Piracy_ The Intellectual Property Wars from Gutenberg to Gates - Adrian Johns [1]
This case of a doppelganger multinational does indeed seem to mark some kind of culmination. It is hard to imagine a more spectacular act of piracy, unless perhaps one could conjure up a fake World Intellectual Property Organization. And in fact the venture came to light almost exactly on cue, just as impersonation of this kind had been identified as a growing piratical trend, set to succeed hacking and pharming as the mode of digital banditry du jour. "Brandjacking," it was called. It had even been singled out as a looming problem by the CEO of International Riskwho, not coincidentally, was a longtime veteran of the Hong Kong police experienced in tackling human kidnappings. Such piracy, he had cautioned in public speeches, was fast becoming a fact of life for the electronics and pharmaceuticals industries, with a recognizable modus operandi. An episode generally began when a legitimate company licensed a factory to manufacture its goods; the brandjackers who stood behind the factory would then take the documentation involved in the license, duplicate it, and redeploy it in order to recruit other plants. These other operations often remained blissfully unaware that theywere dealing with impostors. After all, the outlaws helped themselves to the very devices-affidavits, bills, forms, contracts-that are supposed to guarantee legitimacy in modern capitalism. Especially hard to fight were brandjackers who operated across national boundaries, particularly the strait separating Taiwan from mainland China. The authorities in the People's Republic might well prove reluctant to prosecute local businesses that could plausibly claim to be acting in innocence. All of these vulnerabilities were exploited to the full by NEC's evil twin.3
NEC's discomfiting experience throws into sharp relief the sheer range of phenomena that fall under the term "piracy" as it is nowadays used. They extend far beyond the piecemeal purloining of intellectual property. They reach, in fact, to the defining elements of modern culture itself: to science and technology; to authorship, authenticity, and credibility; to policing and politics; to the premises on which economic activity and social order rest. That is why the topic of piracy causes the anxiety that it so evidently does. Ours is supposed to be an age of information-even of an information revolution. Yet it suddenly seems as though enemies of intellectual property are swarming everywhere, and the ground rules for an information economy are nowhere secure. Universities find themselves havens for countless devotees of file-sharing software, making blithe use of services that the recording industry condemns flatly as piracy. Biotechnology companies, testing genetically modified organisms in Indian cotton fields, accuse local farmers of being "seed pirates" when they use part of one year's crop as seed for the next. And Hollywood executives make front-page headlines when their companies join forces to sell movies online, having been spurred into rare cooperation by their mutual fear of losing control of their intellectual property So serious has the prospect of piracy become for them that in the United States the Digital Millennium Copyright Act has even outlawed the promulgation of algorithms that might be used to disable or circumvent copy-protection devices. Agraduate student coming to Nevada to present a technical paper can be arrested, not for pirating anything himself, but for divulging principles that might allow others to do so. In today's global economy, there are not just pirate books, CDs, and videos, but pirate jeans, pirate motorcycles, pirate pharmaceuticals, pirate aircraft parts, and, of course, pirate Pokemon. One recent novel mischievously imagines the ruin of the entire U .S. economy after the source code of major proprietary software is released en masse onto the Net. "The Chinese never liked `intellectual property,"'