Good morning.
My name is Ariel Katz. I'm a law professor at the University of Toronto, where I hold the innovation chair in electronic commerce. I'm very grateful for the opportunity to appear before you today.
In my comments, I would like to focus on some of the ways in which copyright contributes to or perhaps detracts from the ability of artists and creators to be remunerated for their works.
The idea that copyright is necessary for allowing creators to reap financial rewards from their creations runs deep in our current legal thinking and policy-making since copyright arrived on the scene some 310 years ago. Since the first copyright act, the Statute of Anne in 1709, almost every major copyright reform was based on the notion and promise that copyright will guarantee authors the ability to be remunerated for their works.
For 300 years, the benefit to authors has been the banner that publishers and producers have carried in their demands for ever-increasing powers to legally control creative works. Beloved authors and creators would appear before legislators, describe their economic hardship and support the publishers' demands for more rights and stronger tools to enforce them.
This strategy has been enormously successful over the last 300 years. It even accelerated in the last decades. As a result, copyright has expanded in almost every direction. The subject matter has expanded, the term of copyright has been extended and the geographical reach of copyright has been extended. The type of activity that could constitute infringement has increased, and so have the enforcement tools and remedies available.
However, the vast majority of artists and creators seem to be earning very little from their creations. Last Saturday, for example, Michael Enright, on CBC, cited a recent survey by the Writers' Union that found that the average Canadian writer makes only about $9,000 a year, and the incomes are falling fast. Once again, not-strong-enough copyright is to blame, and “make copyright great again” seems to be the proposed remedy.
After 300 years of asking, “Are we there yet?” and finding that we aren't, maybe it's time to reflect back and acknowledge that the weakness of copyright may not necessarily be the problem and that stronger copyright may not be the solution. In fact, we should even start thinking whether the ever-expansion of copyright is part of the problem. That's counterintuitive, but that might be the case.
Don't get me wrong: Copyright is a very effective legal tool for collecting grants from the use of creative works. The stronger, broader and longer copyright becomes, the more effective is the ability to extract even more rents from the users of creative works. Indeed, copyright does make some corporations—or their shareholders or senior executives—and a relatively few superstar artists very rich. That's why they lobby so hard to protect and enhance it. That's why they have the ability to out-lobby almost everyone else in this legislative process.
If our goal is not to further enrich the rich but to ensure adequate remuneration for the average creator, then maybe it's time to acknowledge that a strategy of more copyright has been a spectacular failure.
I note in brackets that from an economic perspective, it's better to think about the marginal creator, not the average creator. It's not that the person is marginal or that the work is unimportant; I mean a person for whom a change would make a difference. If we make a policy change, how would it affect someone that we want to be affected at the margin? Hence, I say “marginal”. I just wanted to clarify that.
If copyright has not been successful in its stated purpose, why? One possible answer is that we are simply not there yet and that copyright is still not strong enough. We have to continuously strengthen it and eventually we'll get there. In some abstract, theoretical way, this is a plausible answer, but I don't think it's very likely that this is the correct one.
Consider, for example, the recent findings from the Writers' Union survey. Access Copyright and the Writers' Union cite these or similar numbers to support their demands for, for example, preventing educational institutions from relying on fair dealing or in their efforts to make tariffs that are approved by the Copyright Board mandatory in educational institutions. They could basically impose these on educational institutions, despite the fact the Supreme Court held that such tariffs are not mandatary for the users.
Let's assume that our goal is to allow professional writers to make a living off their writing. According to Statistics Canada, the median household income is approximately $70,000 a year. Obviously an income of $9,000, as per the study, is far too low. What would we have to do in terms of copyright if we wanted to quadruple this $9,000 amount to make it half the median income? The writers could earn from copyright not even the median income—just half of the median income. We would need to quadruple the $9,000 figure.
Suppose we go along with Access Copyright's proposal and we abolish fair dealing for education and make tariffs mandatory for educational institutions and so on. We don't need to spend time doing the exact calculation to figure out that if we want this instrument to significantly increase those authors' earnings from copyright, we would need to impose on educational institutions what is effectively an education tax, which would quickly bankrupt them. If that's our goal, if that's the tool we want to use....
Moreover, even if doing that was sustainable, using this copyright mechanism would not only improve payment to low-earning authors whom we might care about, but would simultaneously provide a much greater remuneration to the ones who already make quite a lot of money. That's how copyright works. You don't get it according to your income; you get it according to your ownership. Those who own more, earn more, and tend to get even more.
Here's a simple inconvenient truth: Using copyright to improve the earnings of the average or marginal creators would simultaneously enrich the already rich. Of course, the money would have to come from somewhere. Someone would have to pay for that. It could come from students or taxpayers, or from other expenses that would no longer be available. The money would have to shifted away from other resources. This points to the fact that using copyright to improve the earnings of marginal creators entails a massive transfer of money from the public to the already super-rich, with a tiny portion going to those we might really care about.
I have tried to explain it briefly. I really encourage you to read chapter 2 from a new book by Professor Glynn Lunney, called Copyright's Excess. He makes the point and explains it much better than I did.
I know that he would also be happy to appear before you. He is a U.S. law professor. He would be very happy to appear before you to talk about his new book.
Why has copyright been such a failure for most creators? Why does the great wealth that it creates for some publishers, some producers and some media companies fail to trickle down to creators, even though the creators are the first owners and the supposed beneficiaries of copyright law?
The answer is that while more copyright increases the ability of those who sell content to extract rents from the paying public, how much of those rents trickle down to authors is not a function of the strength of copyright. Rather, it is a function of the competitive structure of the industry and the relative bargaining power of creators vis-à-vis producers.
I'm close to finishing.
Unfortunately, there are some inherent reasons most creators have earned very little from their writings and will likely continue to do so, notwithstanding copyright.
It's also possible that more copyright could make things even worse. Let me explain very briefly. Let's hope we'll have more time later.
Even though copyright makes the creator the first owner of the copyright, most creators cannot really commercialize their works in the market. They need to contract with producers or some other types of intermediaries who have the knowledge, capital and ability to take advantage of economies of scale and scope.
Therefore, they need to enter those contracts, and those contracts primarily determine their remuneration, which would be a function of their relative bargaining power.
There are some reasons that are not fully understood by economists. Creative industries tend to be highly concentrated. At the same time, the market of creative talent tends to be highly competitive.
At the risk of alienating our friends from the Conservative Party, and maybe in the hope of appealing to our friends from the NDP, let me borrow from Karl Marx's concept of a reserve army of labour.
What we have is a reserve army of creative labourers. There is an abundant supply of creative talent. Creative people like to create and are eager to create, and because the market is so competitive among themselves, but much more concentrated among those with whom they have to contract, creators are inherently in an inferior bargaining position with heavy producers. They are often required to sign away their copyright to the producers and to agree to very exploitative terms with publishers.
To make things worse, there are information asymmetries.
I see that I'm—