Choosing a license for one’s work sometimes opens up a can of worms. It forces one to consider questions beyond just sticking a CC icon at the bottom of the page.
Questions like: Does it matter that others might make money off my work without remunerating me? Does the fear of future enclosure by commercial entities surpass the desire to share as widely as possible? Why do I care about getting credit for my work? How much control do I wish to retain ? Given the inspiration gathered from various sources all along my life, can I honestly claim originality and ownership over ‘my’ work?
An apparently straight-forward choice of license, guided by deceivingly simple questions (do you want to allow derivatives? etc), launches you on a personal journey to look into these dilemmas and really start digging into the nature of creation, your own motivations for sharing, your fears.
Not everybody ends up documenting what I call the ‘qualms of licensing’ or the story of how they came to make certain trade-offs. Christina Hendricks did it at length on her blog. I recommend reading her successive positioning on non-commercial, share-alike and attribution which led to her licensing the texts of her blog under CC BY: you get the feeling that a lot of soul-searching went into these posts.
CC is non-commercial, right? Wrong!
But while we weigh our priorities against the reality of sharing online and compare the merits of the various open licenses, other dilemmas come to haunt us.
The whole point of open licenses is to enable downstream users to understand what they can and cannot do with a given piece of work. Yet confusion is rife and we too often see all the licenses lumped together, assimilated to non-commercial. In fact, it would be interesting to carry out a poll to find out how many people down your street know about creative commons. Out of those who declare an awareness of creative commons, how many think it only has to do with non-commercial activities? How many know the meaning of all the symbols?
Confronted with this issue around her film Sita sings the blues, Nina Paley went for a more radical expression of her desire to share. She waived all her copyright over the film using a CC0 license (no rights reserved) which, to her, is a way of refusing to let the law come between her and her audience:
CC-0 is as close as I can come to a public vow of legal nonviolence. The law is an ass I just don’t want to ride.
Here, openness is very much about letting go.
Copying is an act of love
In an attempt to keep the spirit of sharing alive beyond the legalese characteristic of licenses, Nina Paley went as far as to create her own license, called copyheart. Reasoning that the answer to legal problems does not lie in legal answers, she turned the problem on its head by speaking another language, the language of love:
Although we appreciate and use Free Licenses when appropriate, these aren’t solving the problems of copyright restrictions. Instead of trying to educate everyone on the complexities of copyright law, we’d rather make our intentions clear with this simple statement:
♡ Copying is an act of love. Please copy.
Could it really be that simple?