image here, but it Internet" seems to be the question of ownership
would likely be online. Abbate describes the instance in which
an infringement.] ARPA authorities declared "that BBN had no legal
right to withhold the source code [of the IMP programs] and had to make it freely available" (citing others, 71). While the average internet user does not care about IMP source codes or any other source codes, it's a relevant issue. Firstly, web designers care about webpage source codes, which are accessible from (I think) any browser for (I think) any page. Once open, it shows the entire code, which may or may not make sense to the viewer. That this information helps to reinforce the idea that the 'net was made to be open and informative. And, importantly, alterable. What it means for designers is that they have to be wary of how replicable their designs are. While webpage designers have as much of a copyright on their work as a painter, there is no way to copy and paste a painting (unless it's a digital file, but that's the next part of this) like there is a way to copy source code.
For aspiring web designers, there are plenty of copyright-free templates from which to work. And open source webpage codes remain an informative way for young users to learn the tricks of veteran users, in a free-flowing apprenticeship without walls. But I do wonder if it stymies webpage design. In order to get around the issue of people copying their work, many site designers dumb down sites to a series of patchwork images that look like they have more discrete function than they do. Others might hide their work within convoluted and misleading source code that doesn't help a new designer. Or they might use new programs that make it impossible for anyone without commercial grade software to even begin to replicate it. Where's the fun in that? I'm not a web designer, but I do think open source codes have fascinating potential to teach.
What this flows into is copyright for more traditional things, like books and 2D art and music. All of these spring up online in digitized form. Sure, they aren't the original. They're a series of characters and code that lead back to even more zeros and ones, but in the end, it's the same thing (especially for digitized music like BritBrit and books that only come out in eBook form). The internet is an opportunity for sharing information, and ultimately books, art, and music are information, of a sort. And copyright law is complex enough to make Joe QWERTY unsure whether he's downloading legally. Aren't all books educational in some way? So they should all fall under the clause that allows material to be legally downloaded without cost to the end-user. Or shouldn't they? Do you need permission? What if the author/artist doesn't give it? If you buy it, are you buying their permission? What do you own, the digital file, or the one instance of the copy of the artwork?
Artists and authors work hard and deserve money for their work in the same way that anyone else deserves money for the work they do. But perhaps we're coming into a new era of collaborative digital arts, where works are shared and improved (like Wikipedia). I often think that academics should go further in this direction. Some scholars collaborate and some do not. What if we all did? Would it be feasible? Are there some things that cannot be learned by sharing of digital documents? What might happen to those things (e.g. painting, live music, autobiographies, etc.)? Are they rarefied or relegated to the dustbin?
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