Interesting story of artistic rebellion on the BBC today - in this case, not against the machinery of the state, but against people who are against the machinery of the state and insist on sharing music - for free - via the Internet.
Our poor, destitute pop stars have stamped their collective feet and said, “Enough! No more depriving us of another few quid for our swollen coffers by sharing our music with your mates.” Poor loves.
Does anyone really care whether Pink Floyd’s Nick Mason, Lily Allen or whoever, misses out on a few grand here and there? How bad can file-sharing really be? Well, plenty of lesser-known artists are living on the breadline and depend on every penny they can earn to maintain their career - and they’re the ones who are hit the hardest. So this isn’t really about the big names at all.
I’m not even sure it’s a simple point of legal principle either. Technically, the musicians are right, of course. Intellectual property (IP) law is clear about these things - artists have an established right to be paid for the sale and distribution of the works they have created.
This doesn’t necessarily mean the performers or writers actually own the IP (in the case of musicians, often it’s the label or distributors), but, through custom, practice and performance contracts, they have a right to benefit from it. For people who already have millions, the impact of file-sharing is probably relatively marginal - certainly less than the impact of the contracts the labels impose on them, if Prince and George Michael are to be believed.
For up-and-coming artists, however, it could make the difference between being able to continue an artistic career or giving it up to work full-time in Sainsbury’s. Worst case scenario: our culture is deprived of great works that would have thrilled or inspired millions, because no-one’s prepared to pay for them.
The issue of ownership of artistic works is not one that can be easily defined by law, in my opinion. Who owns Penny Lane, for example? The Beatles, who wrote it? The estate of Michael Jackson, who bought the publishing rights? The old-timers’ band in Frinton who bash out a cover on the Hammond organ? The millions of people who have bought it, listened to it, been inspired to explore more of the Beatles’ work and from there delve into the music of other artists influenced by them - in other words, people whose lives have been culturally enriched by the song?
So, who owns the cultural artefacts that help shape our sensibilities and our feelings about the world? And who benefits from them the most? There’s a strong argument to say that we, the public, do. It’s a liberal, idealistic vision of art and its place in society. Many people think that art should be free. But if we subscribe entirely to this view, how does the artist live?
Until the 19th century, since when the commercial model of art has really taken hold, artists were often dependent on family wealth or a rich patron in order to live and write, paint or play. This model just doesn’t exist as much nowadays - and neither should it. Art is at least as much commerce as it is creativity these days - and we have, to some extent, our own collusion with the artists to thank for this. Think of the rapacious commercialism of Andy Warhol, for example: sure, he was making an interesting comment about the mass production methods of modern society; he was also absolutely raking it in. And we’ve lapped it up.
The point is that artists need money as much as the rest of us (let’s not get into the issue of greed). Whether we like it or not, art is commerce and probably always has been, because people have to live and eat - and we’ve all bought into this idea. This means artists are entitled to the same protection as any other producer. You wouldn’t steal a chair, would you? You may think your emotional response to a piece of art is unique and special and it probably is; but does that give you the right to steal a song?