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the various and sundry creations of sylvus tarn
So how long was ``Historical Copyright''?
Or, how long should it be mine, mine, all mine?

The letter writer to whom the editor was responding suggests that if others teach what she does, both she and the beadstore with whom she shares proceeds of the class will suffer. Let's look at this supposition a little more carefully, shall we?

Though not universally the case, typically someone teaches a specific project in this sort of setting, often accompanying it with written instructions—possibly even a kit. Copyright law in the US states that copyright happens as soon as the creative work is made—in this case, her project, and any instructions she creates to teach it. Thus, if I come along and take her class, I am not only ethically but legally prohibited from teaching a class of that exact project with those exact instructions.

But the editor notes “it isn't illegal to teach someone what you've learned in a class” so she's not talking about that—presumably, she's talking about the methods (which, by the way, are not copyrighted, or even copyrightable—this too is spelled out clearly in US law:

USC-17§ 102(b) clearly states:

(b) In no case does copyright protection for an original work of authorship extend to any idea, procedure, process, system, method of operation, concept, principle, or discovery, regardless of the form in which it is described, explained, illustrated, or embodied in such work. (Thank you groklaw specificially, thank you Tsu Dho Nimh, who posted this on Wednesday, December 03 2003 @ 09:18 AM EST at the above site.)

Beadwork's editor goes on to clarify the standard by which the action becomes unethical: “Are my actions taking income directly out of someone else's pocket?” Seems straightforward, doesn't it? Well, it ain't.

Firstly, if I take a class, it's to learn something. Historically, students were not only allowed but encouraged to share their learning with new insights being most particularly valued. This sort of synergy is the reason classes, bead societies, and conferences are so popular in the first place: because they foster the free flow of ideas. How many times have you taken a class for precisely that benefit? Of, if not you, then other beadworkers of your acquaintence? To prohibit me from sharing the fruits of my learning counters the whole classroom experience. It is unfair because it cheats the students, who have a historical and legal expectation to be able use their new education.

The real difficulty is that in beadwork, as with all other walks of life, there are grey areas between the copyrighted work—which belongs the creator for about a century or so—and broadly held knowledge presumed to be held in common (how to do flat peyote). The letter writer to the magazine felt it was wrong for one of her students even to teach another without using the teacher's instructions. Again, let's look the student's rights: she has the right to show the project herself to anyone she pleases. She has the right to share the knowledge of how she made it. These rights are protected by law and custom. I would say the student is within her rights ethically as well, because any teacher worth the name must be aware that beginning students need a start point—that's why they pay teachers, to give it to them. Advanced students are going to go their own way, and thus should not be a problem.

Where the ethics get a tad stickier is when money comes into play. Certainly the student can be barred from selling any but one piece created in the class—although I suppose the teacher could force the student to sign a contract prohibiting even that. However, having paid for the right to make one piece by taking the class, and by law that piece (though not the design) belonging to the student, the student should have the right to dispose of the project as she wishes, including selling it.

I think what really blows these teachers’ gaskets is the idea that other, less-skilled beadworker/teachers will take their classes, and then turn around and teach the material. For money. And it cheeses ’em off.

Well, I have news for you. This issue has been around for a long time; and people have been attempting to lock out such competition via licensing, guild membership and the like. Don't know about you, but I'm glad I don't have to belong to a guild in order to make or sell my lace, or embroidery, or beadwork, as was once the case. Again, I say, historical and legal precedent allow your students to teach; they must write up their own materials, and create their own projects; and ethically they must either develop projects substantially different from their teachers’, or be prepared to defend the project as one that not original.

And, folks, I can tell you from personal experience that though you think your project is absolutely unique, it may not be. Two of my friends and I, who were sharing a booth, all came to the show with nearly an identical earring design—because we'd all just incorporated into the hoop earring styles then in vogue some new (to us) 16mm triangle beads. Some projects simply look a lot alike, fostered by (you guessed it) the writhing sea of ideas and technique already out there.

But you know what? It doesn't matter. I think any teacher worth the name should not only be prepared to accept that others will disperse the fruits of her labor (even making money in the process) but should encourage it. Copying a teacher's materials and projects is vulgar and illegal; but even more distasteful is the idea of teacher's ringing around their teaching with prohibitions. It defeats the very purpose and value of teaching.

It's also counterproductive. After all, there are millions of beadworkers just in the US of A alone. No one person could possibly teach ’em all. On the other hand, supposing a bunch of folks had classes or casual demos from students of Loren Stump, who shares everything he knows with a profligrancy that positively exhausts his unwitting vic—I mean enthusiastic students—do you think they'd jump at the chance to take from the master? For those of you not into glass sculptural beads, let me give you a hint: this man never has a problem filling his classes. But, you say, you're not the best in the world at what you do?

If your voice is truly unique, no-one will be able to imitate it; and a taste of it (from your own students) will only whet the appetites of new students all the more. For you, the original. Indeed, I've begun to notice a trend amongst popular authors to release older works for free download—precisely to build up interest for newer works that they then sell. A similar approach, it seems to me, would work with teaching projects. And if your ideas are similar to others’, then you owe it to everyone—the “creative commons” from which we all spring—to recognize this is a two-way street, and be willing to share. We hold technique, method, and creative impulse in common; if you wish to teach, building upon these gifts, then you must be prepared to do it better than everyone else—just like the rest of the commercial world.

Oh, and to answer the question posed in the title? Well, originally, 14 years. That's right. And as the big corps go to congress to ever-lengthen those copyrights so that their cash cows stay under their control, the commons that that fostered them are ever shrunk. Think Mickey Mouse is that unique? Check out the animation of the era when Steamboat Willie was first created, back in ’28. You'd be surprised.


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[rantsraves]