(19) Lury, 1993: 27 quotes Rosalind Krauss.
(20) Interview
with Rob Scholte, De Groene Amsterdammer, 18 December 1996
(21) De Volkskrant, 4 February 1998
(22) Janine Jaquet, Cornering Creativity, The Nation, March 17,
1997
(23) Anthony
Seeger, Ethnomusicologists, archives, professional organizations,
and the shifting ethics of intellectual property, in Music, Media,
Multiculture: Musikaliska akademien, Stockholm 1998. See as well:
Malm, 1992: 32, 184,5, 235,6.
(24) Ibid.
(25) Emery Simon, The Integration of Intellectual Property and Trade
Policy, Alai Conference, Geneva, 27-28 June 1994
(26) Follow-up to the Green Paper on Copyright and Related Rights
in the Information Society, Commission of the European Communities
1996: 5
(27) Jeremy Rifkin, The Biotech Century. Human Life as Intellectual
Property, in The Nation, April 13, 1998
(28) See: Gary
Schwartz, 7 March 1998: Gary.D.Schwartz@let.ruu.nl
|
|
4. the common cultural
good and the future of the arts
James Boyle claims that, for a set of complicated reasons, 'we are
driven to confer rights in information on those who come closest
to the image of the romantic author, those whose contributions to
information production are most easily seen as original and transformative.'
He argues that this image of the romantic author 'is a bad thing
for reasons of both efficiency and justice; it leads us to have
too many intellectual property rights, to confer them on the wrong
people, and dramatically to undervalue the interests of both the
sources of and the audiences for the information we commodify. If
I am right,' he continues, 'this unconscious use of the author paradigm
has wideranging negative effects, with costs in areas ranging from
biodiversity and the production of new drugs to the shape of the
international economy and the structure of the computer industry
(1996: X, XI).'
In this part
of this article on intellectual rights related to the arts the quite
remarkable statements by James Boyle are the issues which should
be dealt with indeed. Let's start with the romantic concept of the
author, the genius who creates a completely original work out of
nothing and which has lead us in a "culture of originals"
(19). First we must mark that this notion of authorship is a relatively
young concept which came up with individualism in the western culture;
in many other cultures it was and still is an unknown concept. James
Boyle: 'As authors ceased to think of themselves as either craftsmen,
gentlemen, or amanuenses for the Divine spirit, a recognisably different,
more romantic vision of authorship began to emerge. . . . in this
vision the author was not the journeyman who learned a craft and
then hoped to be well paid for it. The romantic author was defined
not by the mastery of a prior set of rules, but instead by the transformation
of genre, the revision of form. Originality became the watchword
of artistry and the warrant for property rights. . . . It is the
originality of the author, the novelty which he or she adds to the
raw materials provided by culture and the common pool, which "justifies"
the property right . . . (1996: 54,5).'
One may wonder,
however, whether this originality should not be seen in a broader
perspective. On the idea that a genius creates a work out of nothing
but his or her creativity, Krister Malm comments: 'This is of course
not the case (1998: 24).' Here we are confronted with a contradiction.
We are aware that someone creates a work of art, which we may appreciate
very much, and which may look new to us now, from our contemporary
perspective. However, in our present culture we are inclined to
forget that the author or performer has used many sources - language,
images, tonality, rhythms, colours, movements, meanings, humour,
and so on - which belong to our common domain, the intellectual
commons.
There is no
poem without former poems. This makes it understandable that there
exists not really a justification to claim such an absolute right,
more or less a monopoly, on an expression as we allow authors in
our present societies. Dutch painter Rob Scholte claims that 'copyright
does not exists in postmodernism, on the contrary there exists the
right to reproduce all. All is from everybody. This does not mean
that all hereby has turned gratuitous. That would be an error of
reasoning. People still make something for the first time, the authenticity
continues to exist, and certain images keep their power of expression.
As a postmodernist, however, I fight the idea of originality, of
intellectual property, of copyright. Copyright is the notion of
god that's what it's all about nowadays. I am in favour of the free
right to portray all.' (20)
There is always
a cultural debt, mostly a considerable debt; this should be valued.
'How should we understand "value" in the information society?',
James Boyle wonders. 'Whose contributions will our system recognize
and reward, whose will it ignore, or genuinely fail to see? . .
. How does one break the grip of a rethoric of entitlement that
systematically obscures and undervalues the contributions of one
part of the population and magnifies those of another part of the
population? (1996: 177).'
This has far
reaching consequences, James Boyle argues. 'An authorfocused regime
that makes the contributions of sources "invisible" is
unlikely to reward those contributions . . . Sources may become
a "commons" whose exploitation is justified or obscured
by an author theory . . .' Partly the problem is the denial of creations
of the past which have contributed to the artistic creations and
performances in our present time. But the problem reaches also to
the future. 'In developed nations too, the blindness of an authorcentered
regime to the importance of the public domain can also lead to overly
expansive intellectual property rights that deny future creators
- novelists, scientists, programmers - the raw material they need
to make new products. The tendency to undervalue the public domain
is a worldwide phenomenon (1996: 130).'
Interesting
is the contradiction James Boyle signals: 'if one truly worships
Great Artists or Inventors, one is under an obligation to concede
that the current system can make their lives a lot more difficult.
The tendency of the current system to undervalue the importance
of the public domain can deprive the truly creative among us of
the raw material necessary to create their next transformative artifacts
(1996: 165).'
This is exactly
what might hinder the television screening of a work by the Belgian
artist Johan Grimonprez, which has been shown already on the Documenta
1997. The title of his tape is Dial History, and that is what it
really is. He crisscrosses through history and completely different
aspects of society; 80% of the film consists of archive materials.
As a work of art the use of those materials was not really important
for rightholders, for the time being. For television, however, it
is impossible without asking permission and paying lots of money.
(21)
The strict system
of copyrights raises a problem for new creations. James Boyle warns
that intellectual property rights may become 'so expensive that
they make it much harder for future independent creators actually
to create (1996: XIII).' It is even worse, Ronald Bettig notifies.
'With few exceptions, copyright is based on an owner's ability to
have exclusive control over the use of his or her product. This
exclusive control is what protects the exchange value of the copyrighted
work in the intellectual property marketplace (1996: 151).' Bringing
intellectual properties - monopolistic rights - in a free trade
context - GATT/WTO - is turning the world upside down (Amin, 1997:
29).
The reason why
this all could happen is that an appropriation has taken place.
Cultural value became property value, as Michel Foucault notes,
summarized by Celia Lury. 'In the secularised ritual of Romanticism,
the uniqueness of the cultural work itself was more and more displaced
by the empirical uniqueness of the creator or his (and once again
the use of the masculine pronoun is not accidental here) creative
achievements. . . . it was through the authorfunction that cultural
value became a thing, a product and a possession caught in a circuit
of property values. What was at stake in this circuit was the limitation
of reproduction; it was through the constitution of cultural works
as intellectual property, and the allocation of limited rights in
reproduction, that the potential instability inherent in reproduction
made possible by modern technologies of culture was contained (1993:
23).'
In a way this
may be understandable, without forgetting that the author concept
has romantic traits, but at the present moment we are entering a
completely new stage, according to Ronald Bettig. There is underway
an expansionary logic of capital which infiltrates the vast ranges
of human labor and activity, including intellectual and artistic
creativity. 'Thus when it comes to the domains of information and
culture, the logic of capital drives an unending appropriation of
whatever tangible forms of intellectual and artistic creativity
people may come up with, as long as this creativity can be embodied
in a tangible form, claimed as intellectual property, and brought
to the marketplace (1996: 34).'
The examples
are manifold. In 1997 a Zürich based company, called Techno
Tanz Veranstaltungsverwertung Zürich GbR, claimed that she
has the authors right on techno dance. She urged a Berlin disco
that copyrights should be paid. In the Netherlands PTT Telecom got
the copyright on the specific colour green which some telephone
companies happened to use. Also in Holland ABN/Amro Bank makes publicity
with saying that they are The Bank. They got the exclusive right
on the combination of the words The and Bank. Just normal forms
of movement of the human body, words, colours are ripped off from
the public domain and become the exclusive property of private interests.
However, if there should be any payment, let them pay the public
domain because they are using elements of the common cultural heritage!
The extension
of rights concerns also the new digital communication tools, roads,
environments, and infrastructures, as if it is selfevident. No shadow
of doubt was amidst the G7 Conference held in Brussels on 25 and
26 February 1995 which 'confirmed the need for high standards of
legal and technical protection for the creative content which will
be disseminated via these infrastructures (Commission of the European
Communities, 1995: 13).' This was endorsed by the Commission of
the European Communities which stated in its 1995 Green Paper on
Copyright and Related Rights: 'Those seeking to operate in the new
environment must not find themselves hemmed in by legal constraints
arising from a fragmented market (Ibid.: 29).'
Information,
culture become commodities which may be exploited. In this philosophy
the concentration of knowledge in the hands of a few is nothing
absurd. Moreover, this is exactly what western states make possible,
or even promote, by legislation and the application of copyright
laws, including the hunt on piracy and unauthorized use. T. Koopmans,
a former judge at the European Court, reminds the idyllic scenes
depicted in the handbooks from the hard working and gifted artist
who sees his efforts rewarded with exclusive exploitation rights.
'Those rights have turned into "business" (1983: 454).'
In this business
the stakes are high, Janine Jaquet reports in The Nation. 'The trouble
is, no one really knows which technologies will be worth having
in the Information Age: Maybe it will be cable, maybe satellite
TV, maybe the Internet, maybe none of these. Those companies that
invested in the wrong "hardware" will be the losers. But
those that invested in what will be delivered by the new technology
- the winning sort of "content" or "software"
- will emerge with a valuable commodity.
"Content,"
says Derek Baine, an analysist at Paul Kagan Associates, "holds
its value." If content is king, synergy is still the power
behind the throne, the rationale for media conglomerates' snatching
up as much copyrighted material as they can. Today's mergers aren't
just about grabbing more of the market share by buying yet another
record label or movie studio or book imprint. They're also about
acquiring the rights to music, movies and books. It's an investment
in intellectual capital, i.e. creative expression, the twentyfirst
century's most valuable commodity.' (22)
Viacom makes
money on its "content". The German Leo Kirch owns at least
15.000 films and 55.000 hours serials, shows, concerts, operas,
documentaries, and so on (Renner 1994: 159,160). One of the United
States' largest exports is entertainment "software" films,
television, recordings, and computer software. Ideas and their expressions
are big, big business, and even U.S. foreign policy is influenced
by considerations of intellectual property, according to Anthony
Seeger. 'One result of these changes is that knowledge of all kinds
is increasingly coming to be dealt with in market terms. Many forms
of knowledge and wisdom have become "intellectual property."
. . . Copyrights on music and dance increasingly determine who gets
wealthy and who does not in the performing arts.' (23)
Without being
nostalgic, he is being right to show that there is a remarkable
difference. 'If, at one time, members of communities performed for
one another in a face-to-face way, today, in most parts of the world,
these performances are mediated by, and to a very large extent shaped
by, legal considerations. What an audience today hears, and what
it may not hear, is partially determined by copyright and money.
For example, some radio stations may favor recordings by longdead
composers over those by living ones for whose music they would be
obliged to pay royalties; some festivals or clubs may insist that
performers not play songs "owned" by one or another collection
company; and some educational software developers may decide to
use only music whose copyright has expired.' (24) And who owns the
catalogues of music, images, texts, and performances will put pressure
on all different channels and other outlets that his "products"
will be used.
One of the consequences
of this private appropriation of knowledge and works of art may
be that much information, once purchased, is then removed from the
public view - or more likely never permitted to be seen - precisely
because it is privately owned (Webster, 1995: 93). The unhampered
use of cultural creations does not seem to be in the interest of
intellectual right owners of those forms of communication. They
decide what will be on the market. All what may distract attention
from what they are pushing at a certain moment will be withheld.
A market "overcrowded" with an enormous diversity of artistic
creations is considered not to be favourable for profit making.
Intellectual rights make it possible to steer the availability -
and the non-availability - of artistic creations on the market.
More research should be done how and in how far this works, and
what kind of contradictions are rising.
Copyrights being
big business, the United States started to look at multilateral
solutions for trade disputes on intellectual property protection,
in any case what they consider as "trade" disputes. Herman
Cohen Jehoram suggests that the WIPO framework would have been the
most obvious context. 'However, this has been dominated by the developing
countries. Thus it became GATT.' (1993: 67) In this context TRIPs,
the Agreement on Trade-Related Intellectual Properties, has been
prepared. Samir Amin wonders about TRIPs whether it may bring the
developing countries 'back to the mercantilistic monopoly practices
of 300 years ago? Even the language used to discuss the topic is
not neutral. We no longer speak of knowledge as the common property
of humanity, but rather of "piracy" . . . (1997: 29).'
Third World
countries will not be the benefitors of the global setup of intellectual
rights, it may bring problems also to small and medium sized arts
initiatives in the western world, according to Ronald Bettig. 'For
such companies, copyright does little to increase their output or
guarantee them income (reward) as theory would hold. Strict copyright
laws, effective means of enforcement, and more efficient marketing
systems may increase both investor confidence in intellectual property
markets and incentive to invest therein. But with the prevailing
high barriers to market entry, copyright laws and related mechanisms
do nothing to enhance independent producers' access to distribution
networks or the public's access to a diversity of informational
and cultural products. On the contrary, to the extent that copyright
permits the accumulation of filmed entertainment rights by a few
companies, it enhances market concentration and inhibits access
to and use of informational and cultural goods (1996: 103).'
After all, who
owns the rights likes to see his "property" exhibited,
performed, registered and distributed as much as possible. This
leads unavoidably to an oligopolistic domination of the cultural
market, by which variety of artistic expressions and diversity of
cultural communication will be pushed away. Obviously, one may contradict
that oligopolistic owners will produce and distribute varieties
of artistic expressions, otherwise they never could explore all
the segmented markets the world over. However, they select; they
decide which variety will be offered, and which one not; and which
cultural ambiances will be created, and which ones never may come
into existence. Real variety can exist only, when the majority of
artistic cultural expressions will come forth from a variety of
independent initiatives, institutes, and individuals.
For all national
states TRIPs has enormous consequences. This was the estimation
of Chakravarthi Raghavan already in 1990, before the negotations
on this treaty came to an end. He got right, not only in the technical
fields he describes but also in the cultural domains. 'The entire
TRIPs negotiations are intended to internationalise what so far
has been in the domestic domain, namely establishment of the norms
and criteria for industrial (intellectual) property protection,
broaden the scope of protection, extend the lifetime of protection
(and thus monopoly rights of the TNC holding the patent), reduce
or eliminate the capacity of the Nation-State to regulate or attack
such monopolies, block technical development, and enhance the enforcement
of rights of TNCs, nationally and internationally (1990: 96).'
Obviously, with
the huge flows of information crossing the world by the digital
information networks, control will be less and less possible. But
the interests are high and the cultural industries do all they can
to strengthen the copyright regimes. Celia Lury sums up: 'Temporary
solution to these problems of copyright under these new conditions
of cultural reproduction include: the spread of compulsory licensing
schemes, of unified collection agencies sharing earnings in a pool,
of governing tribunals, of special taxes on hardware, and the production
of immediate information, such as news and financial information,
before copying can infringe on the rights of its owners. At the
same time, commercial organisations are pressing for further revisions
to the traditional terms of ownership of rights in intellectual
property in ways which will contain the free flow of ideas (1993:
166,7).'
One of the principal
arguments to defend such a system of extensive intellectual property
rights is the supposed innovation it will bring to us. Emery Simon
said it clearly at the Alai Conference in Geneva, June 1994: 'So
we have come a long way indeed. On balance, I believe this integrated
system will provide a boost to both creative and inventive individuals.'
(25) The European Commission expressed the same belief in the 1996
Followup to the Green Paper on Copyright and Related Rights in the
Information Society: 'In line with the "Bangemann report"
on "Europe and the Information Society", the Commission's
action plan identified intellectual property protection as a key
issue given the critical role creative content and innovation will
play for the development of the Information Society.'(26) At the
American side as well the incentive argument is familiar: creators
and inventors should get incentives, otherwise we will not see anymore
innovations and inventions (Boyle, 1996: 44).
However, it
is not sure whether this innovation argument will wash, James Boyle
remarks. 'To say that copyright promotes the production and circulation
of ideas is to state a conclusion and not an argument. At the very
least we might wonder if, in our particular copyright regime, the
gains outweigh the losses (1996: 18,9).' Ronald Bettig explains
why some doubt is justified. 'The underlying assumption here is
that human beings require economic reward to be intellectually or
artistic creative. The philosophy of intellectual property reifies
economic rationalism as a natural human trait. Yet from our historical
analysis we see that throughout most of human history there existed
no concept of intellectual property rights. Nevertheless, humans
still produced technological and cultural artifacts (1996: 25).'
Therefore he thinks that it 'is questionable whether individuals
pursue careers in artistic and intellectual activities on the basis
of economic motivations when unemployment in these sectors runs
so high. It is more plausible to assume that economic incentive
appeals to the capitalists who invest in these activities and who
would not invest if the potential for a profitable return on investment
did not exist (1996: 171).'
Chakravarthi
Raghavan argues that patents, trademarks and other intellectual
(industrial) property rights are not even natural human rights.
'When European countries began creating patent rights, at the dawn
of the industrial revolution, there were conflicts whether the "monopoly"
to exploit the invention granted to the inventor is natural right
or an exception to the natural right of citizens to the invention.
. . . Patents and other intellectual or industrial property are
thus statutory rights - benefits created by law by the State. Even
to call them "rights" is a misnomer. They are really "privileges"
granted by the State by statute - a form of government subsidy not
unlike tax credits, export incentives etc (1990: 115,6).' Originally
industrial development came because countries copied from each other,
and now the western world says to the developing world you may not
copy.
Will artistic
creations and inventions, necessary for public life, be underproduced
if intellectual property rights would not exist? Based on past experience
and from what we know from other cultures we may believe that human
beings always will continue to create and invent. What we may know
for sure is that the selection of what will get the chance to be
created or will be used and distributed will be different in a system
where intellectual property rights may not exist or may be less
rigid.
Isn't hubris
of the capitalist owners of intellectual property rights that they
think that their selection capacity is the best for all humankind?
That does not sound democratic. It may be even worse, James Boyle
puts forward. 'There are strong reasons to believe that the system
of incentives set up under the current authorcentered vision of
intellectual property will actually impede innovation and scientific
progress, diminish the availability of our cultural heritage, inhibit
artistic innovation, and restrict public debate and free speech
(1996: 124-8).'
The western
world and the poorer countries might be better off with inventions,
which are rooted more in the needs of local people and are based
on century old experiences. Patents on human genes and other aspects
of human life are even immoral, but nevertheless booming business
and protected by intellectual property regimes. As Jeremy Rifkin
sums up: 'Multinational corporations are already scouting continents,
hoping to locate microbes, plants, animals and humans with rare
genetic traits that might have future market potential. After locating
the desired traits, biotech companies are modifying them and seeking
patent protection for their new "inventions." (27)
For some people
the field of the arts may not be such a serious matter as the patenting
of human life, because the arts are considered just as entertainment
or as something which plays a role only in the fringe of individual
and social life. This is a misunderstanding.
Artistic expressions in the fields of music, words, images, body
movements are essential to the development of our sensitivity, our
experiences of pleasure and sadness, what we feel and think about
existential questions, whether we can bear human life or not. Artistic
creation, the spread of the arts and cultural life - the individual
and common experience of the arts - should thus develop in freedom,
related to the huzzzle and buzzle of a given society. This is not
possible anymore when a limited number of rightholders control what
will be made available, under what conditions, and which artistic
values may not be used at all. Such controlled regimes may hinder
artistic developments instead of promoting artistic creation.
Artists make
a mistake when they think they should make themselves dependent
from the present rigid intellectual property rights system for their
living, which does not offer them economically a fair deal, but
hinders also the blossoming of the arts and cultural life. As James
Boyle says on the authorcentered regime: 'It does not even serve
the goals it is supposed to. An authorcentered-regime can actually
slow down scientific progress, diminish the opportunities for creativity,
and curtail the availability of new products (1996: 119).' Why this
is so? Copyright and author rights 'can be used to deny biographers
the ability to quote from or to paraphrase; to silence the parody;
to control the packaging, context, and presentation of information
(1996: 18,9).'
One may contradict
this assertion by referring to the fair use exception in copyright
regulations and authors right systems. The purpose of "fair
use" law was to make sure, that future creators have available
to them an adequate supply of raw materials for making works of
art, and that society as a whole may benefit from what has been
created. Therefore James Boyle concludes: 'From this perspective,
too many "incentives" could convert the public domain
into a fallow landscape of private plots (1996: 38).'
Precisely this
concept of public domain is a residual one, according to John Frow:
'rather than being itself a set of specific rights, the public domain
is that space, that possibility of access, which is left over after
all other rights have been defined and distributed. It has had a
shadowy legal presence through commonlaw principles such as fair
use, through administrative measures such as freedom-of-information
regulations or through statutory protection of free speech, but
its lack of positive doctrinal elaboration leaves it vulnerable
to erosion. It is a concept which is in many ways in crisis (1996:
102,3).'
There is reason
for alarm indeed, according to Gary Schwartz, who reports that at
one American campus after another, university lawyers are issuing
directives about the legal status of the slides used in history
classes, discouraging and perhaps prohibiting slide librarians from
allowing certain slides to be made or used. They do this in order
to prevent that the university will be sued. 'The test they apply
is that of copyright. The lawyers want the librarians to be able
to show proof, before releasing a slide for use, that no provisions
of copyright law are being violated. In the case of a slide made
from a reproduction in the New York Times, for example, of Andy
Warhol's silkscreen portrait of Queen Beatrix, they would ideally
like to see signed and sealed indemnifications covering the rights
of the Warhol estate, the museum that owns the particular impression
illustrated, the printer who made it, the photographer who photographed
it, the Times and the Dutch royal family before allowing the librarians
to make the image available. Needless to say, even the most obedient
and conscientious librarians are unable to produce such documents,
so that the daily reality of arthistory education, with thousands
of slides in constant use, has become a cause for potential criminal
charges against librarians and teachers.'
Amazement all
over the place. 'These legal directives are late in coming. For
a hundred years, art historians have been making photographic slides
from any and all sources, of any objects that they wish to show
to their classes. Until recently, no one dreamed of objecting to
this. It seems as natural as the right of a teacher of literature
or history to read aloud a passage from a book. To my mind it indeed
is.' But Gary Schwartz is not amused that he must observe that this
has changed. 'As publishers and museums and the entertainment industry
invest heavily in easily reproducible content for the Internet,
they are seeking stronger copyright protection for what is known
as their intellectual property. The rethoric they employ in lobbying
for their cause goes far. In the January 26th, 1998 issue of an
American congressional magazine, the copyright lobby placed a fullpage
ad showing a schoolgirl writing on a blackboard the big word STEAL,
under a headline that reads: "Teaching your kids to steal?"
The crime of which the kids are apparently guilty is copying a web
page containing the "intellectual property of creative Americans."'
There is indeed
an enormous pressure, according to Gary Schwartz, which is 'already
making itself felt in the quality and nature of arthistory teaching.
In some universities, where the slide librarian and campus lawyer
are giving to erring on the side of caution, a work such as Warhol's
Queen Beatrix would not projected in the classroom at all. Neither
would an image of the Sistine ceiling after the last cleaning, to
which a Japanese television company owns the right. There are no
clear limits demarking the permissible from the prohibited in this
field. The operative borderline now is the individual's sense of
the absurd.' (28)
It becomes clear
that concepts like common good, the intellectual and creative commons,
public domain and public sphere are worldwide in the defense, or
worse they become wiped off from the living memory. The privatisation
of knowledge and creations as supported by TRIPs is, according to
Vandana Shiva, 'a mechanism for the privatisation of the intellectual
commons, and a deintellectualisation of civil society, so that the
mind becomes a corporate monopoly.' She continues to say: 'Profits
and capital accumulation are recognised as the only ends to which
creativity is put. The social good is no longer recognised (Shiva,
1995: 10,1; Shiva, 1997).'
Shalini Venturelli
directs the attention on the human rights consequences of the new
international intellectual property laws. They will 'turn the information
superhighway into a toll road with the structure of knowledge defined
exclusively by economic criteria and proprietary power. This radical
privatization of the public domain is unparalleled in history, in
effect reversing the direction of modernity from the gradual expansion
of information participation among social groups over time, to gradual
concentration. Not only will public access rights and fair use rights
be cut back, individuals will be denied the right to use information
for associational purposes in order to organize and participate
in society at large.' Gone will be 'information diversity and pluralism
(Venturelli, 1997: 69; Hamelink, 1994: 284,5).' James Boyle stresses
the need to be aware 'that many of the "human rights"
and even more of the "international development" issues
of the twenty-first century will be intellectual property issues
(1996: 171).'
This makes it
important to know more about philosophies which exist in non-western
cultures and societies on knowledge as a common good versus the
private appropriation. Hamid Mowlana claims, for instance, that
throughout 'Islamic history, especially in the early centuries,
information was not a commodity but a moral and ethical imperative.'
And therefore, the crucial question 'for the Islamic societies is
whether the emerging global information communication community
is a moral and ethical community or just another stage in the unfolding
pictures of the transformation in which the West is the center and
the Islamic world the periphery (1993: 396).'
This question
brings us to the old issue of collective rights. In Our Creative
Diversity, the Report of the World Commission on Culture and Development,
published in 1996, the very notion has been mentioned, not for the
first time in the discussions on intellectual property rights, 'that
traditional cultural groups possess intellectual property rights
as groups. This leads to the radical idea that there can be an intermediary
sphere of intellectual property rights between individual rights
and the (national or international) public domain.' This raises
the difficulty what is to be protected. 'The simple notion provided
by an imagined primeval cultural source is obviously inadequate
here: the Navajo rug, for instance, contains influences which can
be traced, though Mexico and Spain, to North Africa.'
The Commission
thinks that it is more promising to suggest 'that the word "folklore"
should be applied to living creative traditions shaped by powerful
ties to the past. It is also been pointed out', according to the
Commission, 'that "intellectual property" is perhaps not
the right juridical concept to be used at all. A case can be made
for a new concept based on ideas inherent in traditional social
rules. This might be more constructive than trying to make the forms
of protection fit within a framework which was never designed for
them and where the existing users and developers of copyright notions
resists strenuously any such development (Pérez de Cuéllar,
1996: 196).'
Krister Malm
describes that in 1996, the same year as Our Creative Diversity
had been published, the question of international copyright protection
of folklore again was put on the agenda by a number of Third World
governments, this time in the context of the preparations for the
World Trade Organization meeting that took place in Geneva in January
1997. 'The move to get the issue onto the agenda of the WTO meeting
failed,' he reports. 'Again the failure was due to resistance from
powerful industrialized countries and the culture industries to
any introduction of "collective" or "cultural property"
rights into the present system of intellectual and industrial property
rights.' By the support of many countries the decision had been
made that a meeting organized jointly by Unesco and WIPO in Phuket,
Thailand in April 1997 should take place.
There was a
great consensus among the participants, namely from the third world
countries, that an international legal instrument ought to be worked
out and how this in principle should be effected. This did not make
the American and British delegates content at all, one could predict
because in their countries the biggest international entertainment
industries may be found. Krister Malm reports that tension rose
'when the U.S. delegate said that since most of the folklore that
was commercially exploited was U.S. folklore and third world countries
would have to pay a lot of money to the U.S. if an international
convention should come about. The Indian lawyer Mr. Purim answered
that that was already the case with existing conventions and by
the way all U.S. folklore except the Amerindian one was imported
to the U.S. from Europe, Africa and other countries. Thus the money
should go to the original owners of that folklore.' In April 1998
Krister Malm noticed that nothing thus far has come out of the Phuket
meeting and his expectations that collective rights will be taken
as a serious issue by the western countries in the next future are
not very high (1998: 26-29).
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