Globalization has hauled us into two major debates about access to and
ownership of cultural products that, despite being remarkably similar
in their stakes, are raging along completely different lines.
First, Google Books has provoked a fight about the world's written texts. Authors and publishers worldwide are raising objections to the free availability of their works, as well as Google's status as the gatekeeper of the world's literary cache.
Second, "antiquities" countries like Italy, Greece, Turkey, China and Iraq have precipitated a struggle over the world's ancient cultural treasures. Using draconian antiquities laws to prevent the removal of archeological finds from their borders, and agitating (sometimes successfully) for the return of ancient booty housed in museums located (for the most part) in former imperialist powers, these countries are raising objections to the availability of cultural treasures outside of the country of their unearthing.
Hugh Eakin's article, "Who Should Own the World's Antiquities?" in The New York Review of Books explores the question, raised by James Cuno in his books Who Owns Antiquity? Museums and the Battle Over Our Ancient Heritage and Whose Culture? The Promise of Museums and the Debate Over Antiquities, "[w]hy should state sovereignty determine ownership?" In other words, why should Greece have ultimate say over what happens to pots dug up in its territory?
Instead of the tyranny of sovereignty, Cuno advocates the creation of an "international trusteeship under the auspices of a nongovernmental agency" to assume control of the world's antiquities and ensure fair and equal access by peoples worldwide to their shared heritage.
Cuno's proposal strikes me as idealistic; in reality, it's likely to manifest as a lumbering bureucracy and to be perceived as an imperialist power grab. Cultural products unearthed in a country belong to that country for the same reason that oil found beneath the land, or lumber harvested from the country's forests, belong to it; forcing deposit of archeological finds into an international trust is not dissimilar from coercing contribution of diamonds mined in a country into an "international mineral fund" for use by the whole world.
Still, this dichotomy between socializing the world's antiquities (Cuno) and isolating them in the countries in which they were found (Italy, Turkey, China, Iraq) is markedly different than the debate over books, which largely turns on money: the vital question there is how will royalties be assessed and apportioned?
There are two principle reasons for this difference. First, the information in books is intangible. After your read ("consume") this blog post, the product ("information") is in no way dimished for the next consumer. Also, a copy of my blog post (in print, on another site, etc.) is as good as the original. This situation is markedly different from that of antiquities. They are tangible; if a Grecian urn is in the British Museum, it cannot also be in the Metropolitan Museum of Art. Similarly, a copy of the Grecian urn is not a substitute; it's a fake.
The second reason is intellectual property laws. Copyright laws apply to many books that have been, are being and will be sucked into the Google Books vortex. No intellectual property laws apply to ancient treasures: they are (legally) in the public domain.
I am not convinced that these reasons are good enough for the difference in outcomes. At bottom, both antiquities and books are necessary for "the promotion of an essential kind of cultural pluralism," as Eakin writes, that "use[s] art as 'a way of creating a new kind of citizen for the world'" (quoting Neil MacGregor in an essay that appears in Whose Culture?).
People living in a globalized world need access to cultural texts and products, old and new, from around the world, in order to make sense of their existences. Why should their access turn on the physical fact of tangibility, rather than the principle of open access? Why should the cultural goods that are supposedly in the "public domain" be less accessible than the texts that are allegedly intellectual property? And why should books be controlled by an entity with a profit motive, while artifacts are controlled by entities with nation-building impulses? In both these frameworks, aren't we losing sight of the overriding principle (and similarity): namely, the human entitlement to live a life enriched by the succor and wisdom of art?
First, Google Books has provoked a fight about the world's written texts. Authors and publishers worldwide are raising objections to the free availability of their works, as well as Google's status as the gatekeeper of the world's literary cache.
Second, "antiquities" countries like Italy, Greece, Turkey, China and Iraq have precipitated a struggle over the world's ancient cultural treasures. Using draconian antiquities laws to prevent the removal of archeological finds from their borders, and agitating (sometimes successfully) for the return of ancient booty housed in museums located (for the most part) in former imperialist powers, these countries are raising objections to the availability of cultural treasures outside of the country of their unearthing.
Hugh Eakin's article, "Who Should Own the World's Antiquities?" in The New York Review of Books explores the question, raised by James Cuno in his books Who Owns Antiquity? Museums and the Battle Over Our Ancient Heritage and Whose Culture? The Promise of Museums and the Debate Over Antiquities, "[w]hy should state sovereignty determine ownership?" In other words, why should Greece have ultimate say over what happens to pots dug up in its territory?
Instead of the tyranny of sovereignty, Cuno advocates the creation of an "international trusteeship under the auspices of a nongovernmental agency" to assume control of the world's antiquities and ensure fair and equal access by peoples worldwide to their shared heritage.
Cuno's proposal strikes me as idealistic; in reality, it's likely to manifest as a lumbering bureucracy and to be perceived as an imperialist power grab. Cultural products unearthed in a country belong to that country for the same reason that oil found beneath the land, or lumber harvested from the country's forests, belong to it; forcing deposit of archeological finds into an international trust is not dissimilar from coercing contribution of diamonds mined in a country into an "international mineral fund" for use by the whole world.
Still, this dichotomy between socializing the world's antiquities (Cuno) and isolating them in the countries in which they were found (Italy, Turkey, China, Iraq) is markedly different than the debate over books, which largely turns on money: the vital question there is how will royalties be assessed and apportioned?
There are two principle reasons for this difference. First, the information in books is intangible. After your read ("consume") this blog post, the product ("information") is in no way dimished for the next consumer. Also, a copy of my blog post (in print, on another site, etc.) is as good as the original. This situation is markedly different from that of antiquities. They are tangible; if a Grecian urn is in the British Museum, it cannot also be in the Metropolitan Museum of Art. Similarly, a copy of the Grecian urn is not a substitute; it's a fake.
The second reason is intellectual property laws. Copyright laws apply to many books that have been, are being and will be sucked into the Google Books vortex. No intellectual property laws apply to ancient treasures: they are (legally) in the public domain.
I am not convinced that these reasons are good enough for the difference in outcomes. At bottom, both antiquities and books are necessary for "the promotion of an essential kind of cultural pluralism," as Eakin writes, that "use[s] art as 'a way of creating a new kind of citizen for the world'" (quoting Neil MacGregor in an essay that appears in Whose Culture?).
People living in a globalized world need access to cultural texts and products, old and new, from around the world, in order to make sense of their existences. Why should their access turn on the physical fact of tangibility, rather than the principle of open access? Why should the cultural goods that are supposedly in the "public domain" be less accessible than the texts that are allegedly intellectual property? And why should books be controlled by an entity with a profit motive, while artifacts are controlled by entities with nation-building impulses? In both these frameworks, aren't we losing sight of the overriding principle (and similarity): namely, the human entitlement to live a life enriched by the succor and wisdom of art?
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