Piracy_ The Intellectual Property Wars from Gutenberg to Gates - Adrian Johns [170]
MONKSWELL'S DEMON
In 1891, the jurist Robert Collier, Baron Monkswell, lamented the state of contemporary copyright law. It seemed, he told Parliament, as though ever since 1709 it had been "the sport of some malignant demon." The same point could have been made of patents in the Victorian period. Indeed, for much of the nineteenth century patents had been in a far worse state than copyright. But what Monkswell's remark equally implied was the extent to which coherence and logical order themselves had come to be seen as virtues intrinsic to sound law. This had not always been the case in these fields, at least. But by now it was reasonable to assert that if there was such a thing as "intellectual property" - and there was - then its legal manifestations should be consistent. Patent and copyright law should be species of this larger body, as too should be design and trademark law. Instead a mischievous sprite had seemingly rejoiced in taking what should have been a logical structure and reducing it to a confused, inchoate, selfcontradictory mess.63 Monkswell's demon was thus the legal antithesis to James Clerk Maxwell's more famous demon of 1871: it produced disorder without any visible expenditure of energy. But in the cosmos of the new, self-consciously modern legal mind, it was equally paradoxical.
This was new. The concept of "intellectual property" was a creation of the decades immediately preceding Monkswell's remark. It took a generation or more to coalesce. Those battles forced defenders of patents to articulate hitherto discrete bodies of legal doctrine as aspects of one deeper concept. They largely succeeded, but the legacy of their success was a perception that, insofar as the branches of intellectual property law and administration were inconsistent, theywere also flawed. Consistency would from this point on be identified increasingly with two kinds of attribute. One was intrinsic: it had to do with the nature of invention, and with the identity of the author, inventor, or discoverer. The other was extensive: it asserted universality, across time and, more emphatically, space. The reason why the invention of intellectual property in the midto late nineteenth century matteredwas that it brought both into contact and insisted on reconciling them.
Asa result, the Victorian patent war mapped out for the first time what remains to this day our range of options relating to intellectual property. Those options extended all the way from the outright abolition ofpatents and copyrights to their confirmation