4

By Robert Nagle

In the recent Tools of Change conference Tim Oreilly has been talking about the free economy (aka “other F-word“). Here are other thoughts by Kevin Kelly in his provocative essay Better than Free. The condensed version: In an economy where reproduction is free and easy, there is still profit potential from Immediacy, Personalization, Interpretation, Authenticity, Accessibility, Patronage, Findability. Kelly writes:

These eight qualities require a new skill set. Success in the free-copy world is not derived from the skills of distribution since the Great Copy Machine in the Sky takes care of that. Nor are legal skills surrounding Intellectual Property and Copyright very useful anymore. Nor are the skills of hoarding and scarcity. Rather, these new eight generatives demand an understanding of how abundance breeds a sharing mindset, how generosity is a business model, how vital it has become to cultivate and nurture qualities that can’t be replicated with a click of the mouse.

In short, the money in this networked economy does not follow the path of the copies. Rather it follows the path of attention, and attention has its own circuits.

Careful readers will note one conspicuous absence so far. I have said nothing about advertising. Ads are widely regarded as the solution, almost the ONLY solution, to the paradox of the free. Most of the suggested solutions I’ve seen for overcoming the free involve some measure of advertising. I think ads are only one of the paths that attention takes, and in the long-run, they will only be part of the new ways money is made selling the free.

These 8 Generatives are good statements and good ways to analyze the business case for free. But except for Patronage (which I covered once upon a time), doesn’t all this sound a lot like marketspeak? Are we talking about creative works or toasters? Note how there is little effort to link market value to the idea of pleasure or wisdom — as though consuming an ebook or mp3 were an unpleasant necessity akin to getting a oil change. Perhaps it is worthwhile to ask how creative expression can find remuneration, but isn’t it more important to ask whether they elevate or console the psyche?

Ultimately, the values described by Kelly’s value scheme seem dependent on technology (and in fact, technology seems to be the crucial value-adding tool). The syllogism goes like this. You can’t sell content unless you sign onto a platform (and, btw, DRM, RIAA, etc). If you do this, success becomes tied to some company’s marketing budget and a platform’s viability (deduct a few percentage points from royalties). Suddenly, we reach a point where 10-20% royalties seem acceptable and where the cult of personality starts to matter more than creative pursuits for their own sake. And when some wacko hits upon a successful formula, suddenly (thanks to Random House and MSM outlets), everyone starts to market their wares like Ann Coulter.

J.K. Rowling may not be a literary great, but overnight she spawned an empire of products ranging from videogames to films. The same happened with Baum’s Oz books, Disney’s Mickey Mouse cartoons and a certain Liverpool foursome. Notice a pattern here? Technology played little or no role in initially elevating these works to public consciousness (technology played a part only later). Critics, on the other hand, did play a part in initial success; so did audiences and fan clubs and individuals searching for spiritual or sensual meaning.

That is why I do not share Kelly’s confidence that technological exploitations provide solutions (and opportunities) for the problem of value. Technology simplifies some tasks, complicates others. Maybe in fact it provides tangible benefits to creators down the road. But when considering market and technology questions it’s easy (and regrettable) to overlook the aesthetic ones.

 
4