Pity poor Ted. This one — the one that had an ethical question involving ebooks. Basically, he wants to read an out of print book; he is willing to pay for a legal electronic version, but there isn’t one available; rather than buy a used hard-copy (which would not benefit the author in any way), he has asked his readers whether they believe it would be ethical to download a pirated, electronic version (which also would not benefit the author in any way).

Note, please, that he did not say that he has actually gone and downloaded the book in question. More to the point, Ted’s post seems to be an obvious attempt to engender discussion amongst his readers regarding a serious issue, which surely is no bad thing. In fact, in a follow-up post, he makes his own nuanced  addition to the discussion.

So, it’s kind of a shame that we came to this discussion via a Mobylives post whose title churlishly implies that Ted had, in fact, downloaded the book in question and was therefore guilty of theft.

(Also, Johnson says in that post, "Like many book industry critics on the web, ‘Ted’ does not take full authorship of his writing here —does not identify himself any further than the Stuart Smalley-like title of his blog [...]" So, we assume that the about-box on Ted’s site, which says, "Theodore Ts’o is a Linux kernel programmer who lives in the Boston, Massachusetts area. Some of his passions include computers, Linux and other Open Source Software, cooking, photography, and music," was added some time after the Mobylives post had been written, then.)

We don’t begrudge Dennis Johnson his glib response to Ted’s post, necessarily: If we were publishers who’d just stumbled upon some post that pejoratively refers to other non-ebook-embracing publishers as Neanderthals, which is then followed by 200 or more comments that basically encourage others to steal books, we’d be horrified, too. Or rather, we’d be pissed right the fuck off, actually. We probably would have said much worse.

Still, as a reader, I believe at least that the discussion is justified; and one can’t honestly expect people with whom one disagrees to simply sit out of ethical dialogs, simply because one considers their opinions out of bounds. There must be a better response to the offending comments on Ted’s blog than bitter sarcasm, surely. As Ted points out, these people are readers, therefore potential customers; it might be worthwhile to listen to the ways they perceive the ethics of digital piracy, especially if you want to convince them to buy books (even if they’re out of print, and they have to pay exorbitant prices to rare-book dealers, who, after all, deserve to be protected from the ravages of capitalism — right?).

The fact is, piracy is illegal. Ted knows this, but legality isn’t the point; he’s interested in ethics in question. Then again, posting an ethical dilemma as a discussion prompt on the Internet is like kicking over an anthill: Easy, fun at first, and impossible to reverse, once the little guys start climbing up your pant-leg.

Even though it’s too late, we’d like to just briefly mull over some of the legal matters here. What can a person do if he or she finds him- or herself in a similar situation, and also wants to remain within the law? What if you want to read an out of print book that’s not available electronically, while also respecting its copyright? (Oh boy, here we go. If our meandering hasn’t already sapped your will to live, by all means, continue after the jump.)

Well, you could buy a used copy of the book. However, if none are available (or if you can’t afford or borrow one), you can petition the copyright holder to reprint the text, throwing yourself upon their mercy; or you can simply wait until someone, somewhere decides that it is financially worthwhile to arrange to reprint the thing. Any other option would contravene the law.

In practical terms, the effect here is to obscure a work of art by making it unavailable. Maybe it’s a work of great value that deserves to be read by as wide an audience as possible — but, it failed in the marketplace, and will therefore remain ignored forever, except amongst a community of thieves. This may not be the purpose of copyright, to obliterate books that didn’t sell well from our culture, but that is the effect.

On the other hand, nobody wants an unrestricted proliferation of pirated electronic books either, which would obscure worthwhile books by burying them under gigabytes of always-available, undying trash. (Not to mention what would happen to all those starving authors, publishers, bookstore owners and employees, rare-book dealers, et al., if this should come to pass.) It would be the literary equivalent of a world where nobody ever died. (Except for all those starving authors, publishers, bookstore owners and employees, rare-book dealers, et al.)

Is the former really better than the latter? Probably; current copyright law has certainly made a lot of people a lot of money, over the years. But things are changing (duh), and the system that worked twenty, thirty, or fifty years ago may now be irretrievably broken. Part of it might have to do with the fact that many of the changes made to copyright law over the past few decades have more to do with keeping Mickey Mouse out of the public domain than with protecting small-time artists and their works; there’s been change, just not the right kind, obviously.

Sadly, as you get older, you realize that the world is not changing in your favor. This can be upsetting if all you wanted to do was follow the rules of a money-making tradition and never have to think up brilliant new schemes to get paid. But you can’t just do nothing. Nor can you resolve to be crotchety and bitter, if you expect your situation to improve. Especially not if you’re relying on human beings to change their boorish, inconsiderate behavior.

As my grandmother once said, "Why can’t people just be nice to each other?"

But, as a pseudononymous Internet commentator, I’m just a braying, unaccredited, jackass with no standing. So, um, forget everything I just said.