copyright and inheritance
May. 21st, 2007 09:16 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
jfbSo far, this is my favorite response to an essentially dumb article in which Mark Helprin argues for an infinitely extended copyright term.
Which reminds me: For the most part, I seem to be opposed to inheritance--not just the extension of copyright to a creator's kin, but material property as well.
It's not an absolute. I understand a moral argument for inheritance when a dependent is unexpectedly bereft, and a practical argument that inheritance is a gift, and you can't really stop people giving each other things.
But when the argument is that, say, Dickens's great-some-grandchildren somehow deserve to benefit from his genius, I just don't get it. Why? Moreover, this kind of appeal is always made in the abstract--in defense of anonymous "heirs," a framing that deprives them of their own identity and value. Each of these heirs is an individual human being; let them stand on their own accomplishments. (I feel curiously conservative as I write this--although not the kind of conservative that fights estate taxes.)
Mariel Hemingway is a talented actress; she's done good work and made a life for herself; she doesn't need to be "a Hemingway heir". Maybe Ernest's other grandchildren haven't done so well (I don't know, except for Margaux), and that's fine; neither have millions of other grandchildren.
Paris Hilton has no talents that have so far been identified, and she's already benefited immensely from the wealth and fame of her family. Let her sink or swim on that; she doesn't need to own hotels when Barron passes. (Maybe Conrad Hilton agreed with me; his will left nothing to his children, but a court overruled it.)
Aside from whatever financial worth an inheritance of intellectual property has, there's also the issue of stewardship; an artist's heirs have the right to determine how and whether the artist's work will be published, performed, displayed, adapted, etc. There are probably noble examples of this, but mostly what you hear about are descendants like Stephen Joyce, who allows literary criticism only by scholars he likes, who prevented Ireland from staging Ulysses readings on the hundredth anniversary of Bloomsday, the day on which the novel is set.
But what do I know? So far my inheritance from relatives is some tablecloths and a couple of kitchen items. I might see things differently if I discover a rich and gifted uncle.
Which reminds me: For the most part, I seem to be opposed to inheritance--not just the extension of copyright to a creator's kin, but material property as well.
It's not an absolute. I understand a moral argument for inheritance when a dependent is unexpectedly bereft, and a practical argument that inheritance is a gift, and you can't really stop people giving each other things.
But when the argument is that, say, Dickens's great-some-grandchildren somehow deserve to benefit from his genius, I just don't get it. Why? Moreover, this kind of appeal is always made in the abstract--in defense of anonymous "heirs," a framing that deprives them of their own identity and value. Each of these heirs is an individual human being; let them stand on their own accomplishments. (I feel curiously conservative as I write this--although not the kind of conservative that fights estate taxes.)
Mariel Hemingway is a talented actress; she's done good work and made a life for herself; she doesn't need to be "a Hemingway heir". Maybe Ernest's other grandchildren haven't done so well (I don't know, except for Margaux), and that's fine; neither have millions of other grandchildren.
Paris Hilton has no talents that have so far been identified, and she's already benefited immensely from the wealth and fame of her family. Let her sink or swim on that; she doesn't need to own hotels when Barron passes. (Maybe Conrad Hilton agreed with me; his will left nothing to his children, but a court overruled it.)
Aside from whatever financial worth an inheritance of intellectual property has, there's also the issue of stewardship; an artist's heirs have the right to determine how and whether the artist's work will be published, performed, displayed, adapted, etc. There are probably noble examples of this, but mostly what you hear about are descendants like Stephen Joyce, who allows literary criticism only by scholars he likes, who prevented Ireland from staging Ulysses readings on the hundredth anniversary of Bloomsday, the day on which the novel is set.
But what do I know? So far my inheritance from relatives is some tablecloths and a couple of kitchen items. I might see things differently if I discover a rich and gifted uncle.
