Book Read Free

Jim Baen’s Universe

Page 79

by Edited by Eric Flint


  You can up­lo­ad yo­ur li­fe now.

  The Gutenberg Column

  The History Of Power From The Gutenberg Revolution To The Computer Revolution

  Michael Hart, Gutenberg Foundation

  This pi­ece is a re­sult of con­ver­sa­ti­ons with a num­ber of know­led­ge­ab­le pe­op­le who do not se­em to be as awa­re of the his­tory of po­wer as I ex­pec­ted, with an em­p­ha­sis on the kind of po­wer used in the In­dus­t­ri­al Re­vo­lu­ti­on thro­ugh to­day which I am ho­pe­ful­ly la­be­ling as the Neo-In­dus­t­ri­al Re­vo­lu­ti­on.

  The kinds of po­wer un­der dis­cus­si­on will ran­ge from an­ci­ent wa­ter­w­he­els to an elec­t­ro­nic age that most of us don't un­der­s­tand yet even tho­ugh we are li­ving right in the mid­dle of the In­ter­net Age and com­pu­ters are ubi­qu­ito­us and this will al­so in­c­lu­de se­ve­ral kinds of so­ci­al, po­li­ti­cal and eco­no­mic po­wer.

  Today few of us can deny the po­wer of the In­ter­net, as Dan Rat­her, one of the most po­wer­ful per­sons in the world was in the mid­dle of ef­forts to bring down an even mo­re po­wer­ful per­son, The Pre­si­dent of the Uni­ted Sta­tes, when no one in par­ti­cu­lar, a per­son with a na­me that will not go down in his­tory, po­in­ted out in In­ter­net dis­cus­si­ons, spe­ci­fi­cal­ly in World Wi­de Web dis­cus­si­ons, that Mr. Rat­her's so­ur­ces we­re so­mew­hat sus­pect in so­me too mo­dern form of con­tent that we­re ne­ver ac­tu­al­ly chal­len­ged, yet anot­her tri­umph of form over con­tent that I ha­ve re­cor­ded over the ye­ars.

  This kind of po­wer, the po­wer of a no­body to put an end to the ca­re­er of such a per­son as Dan Rat­her, he­ad of CBS News and to suc­ces­sful­ly re­ta­in Ge­or­ge W. Bush as Pre­si­dent of the Uni­ted Sta­tes is the one kind of po­wer Mar­tin Lut­her used when he bro­ught down the Ro­man Cat­ho­lic Church in Euro­pe, aga­in thro­ugh, as fa­te wo­uld ha­ve it, an un­na­med per­son or per­son who re­pub­lis­hed his words, via the Gu­ten­berg press, the In­ter­net of Lut­her's day.

  The world had hardly be­en awa­re of the Gu­ten­berg press for the half a cen­tury sin­ce Gu­ten­berg's in­ven­ti­on chan­ged the fa­ce of pub­lis­hing fo­re­ver, and to­day the world has hardly be­en awa­re of the Com­pu­ter Re­vo­lu­ti­on for fifty ye­ars. Yet the­se two events, so­me half a mil­len­ni­um apart, both chan­ged the world in the sa­me man­ner, brin­ging in­for­ma­ti­on to the pub­lic that had he­re­to­fo­re be­en only the pro­vin­ce of the eli­tes of edu­ca­ti­on and we­alth and po­wer, tho­ugh they did not al­ways re­si­de to­get­her in the sa­me per­son, fa­mily, or com­pany.

  The Gu­ten­berg press was run by hu­man mus­c­le po­wer and even tho­ugh li­mi­ta­ti­ons of hu­man po­wer we­re gre­at, the abi­lity of only a few pe­op­le to turn out bo­oks that sho­uld ha­ve ta­ken the monks and scri­bes of that era li­fe­ti­mes to pro­du­ce on the­ir own was an as­to­nis­hing event, even from the per­s­pec­ti­ve of fi­ve hun­d­red ye­ars la­ter and be­yond.

  The fact that an­yo­ne, much less an un­k­nown such as Mar­tin Lut­her, chal­len­ging the Ro­man Cat­ho­lic Church, co­uld ha­ve even the re­mo­test chan­ce of suc­cess was he­re­ti­cal at le­ast, and re­vo­lu­ti­onary at best.

  Yet most of us, even half a mil­len­ni­um la­ter, ha­ve he­ard of Mar­tin Lut­her and the Pro­tes­tant Mo­ve­ment of which he was the fat­her.

  What we don't of­ten he­ar is that we only know of him be­ca­use his fri­ends to­ok his words to the lo­cal Kin­ko's du jo­ur and ma­de co­pi­es, co­pi­es they then sent to in­f­lu­en­ti­al pe­op­le aro­und Euro­pe. The rest, as they say, is his­tory.

  From the­se small be­gin­nings as far as print shops go, hu­ge be­gin­nings, as far as the ef­fects of tho­se print shops go­es, co­mes the en­ti­re pub­lis­hing his­tory that is one of the ma­j­or su­bj­ects we are con­si­de­ring.

  Another kind of po­wer is the kind that po­we­red the Gu­ten­berg pres­ses as tho­se evol­ved in­to mo­re and mo­re ad­van­ced forms of pub­li­ca­ti­on such as ste­am and/or elec­t­ri­cal­ly po­we­red prin­ting pres­ses. In­te­res­tingly eno­ugh, I ha­ven't fo­und any re­fe­ren­ces to wa­ter po­we­red prin­ting pres­ses, even tho­ugh eno­ugh wa­ter po­wer had al­re­ady be­en har­nes­sed for the ma­king of pa­per in wi­der por­ti­ons of the world long be­fo­re Gu­ten­berg. Per­haps any of my re­aders who can find such a re­fe­ren­ce to wa­ter po­we­red prin­ting pres­ses wo­uld ad­vi­se me.

  Most his­to­ri­ans pretty much ig­no­re the ef­fects of the Gu­ten­berg Re­vo­lu­ti­on in any ot­her as­pect than di­rectly re­la­ted to pub­lis­hing, con­cen­t­ra­ting on me­rely-if the word "me­rely" can be used on so­met­hing so im­por­tant-on the facts that mil­li­ons of bo­oks, per­haps as many as abo­ut twen­ty-fi­ve mil­li­on, ac­cor­ding to so­me for whom this is a to­pic of scho­larly ex­per­ti­se, we­re pub­lis­hed using the pres­ses fol­lo­wing the mo­del of the Gu­ten­berg press by the end of the 1400's. So­me, in the­ir scho­larly wis­dom, even gi­ve Gu­ten­berg cre­dit for star­ting what be­ca­me that his­to­ri­cal pe­ri­od known as the Sci­en­ti­fic Re­vo­lu­ti­on.

  But no­ne of them se­em to gi­ve Gu­ten­berg cre­dit for what even­tu­al­ly be­ca­me the In­dus­t­ri­al Re­vo­lu­ti­on, even tho­ugh he ob­vi­o­usly in­ven­ted the first exam­p­le of what la­ter be­ca­me known as "mass pro­duc­ti­on."

  In Gu­ten­berg's shop, two ex­pe­ri­en­ced prin­ters co­uld turn out work that sho­uld ha­ve be­en over a de­ca­de's work by an ex­pe­ri­en­ced scri­be and do it in one day, with each pa­ge iden­ti­cal to every ot­her pa­ge. It sho­uld be no­ted he­re that a scri­be didn't al­ways try to ke­ep the sa­me words on the sa­me pa­ges, nor did it se­em re­aso­nab­le to ex­pect that every word wo­uld be spel­led exactly the sa­me.

  Two hun­d­red fifty pa­ges an ho­ur, at le­ast ten ho­urs a day, tho­usands of pa­ges per day…

  Mass pro­duc­ti­on.

  By the end of the 1400's the­re we­re as many print shops in Euro­pe as the pa­ge co­unt from a day's la­bor by tho­se two man print te­ams.

  2500 prin­ting pres­ses each pro­du­cing 2500 pa­ges per day equ­als 6,250,000 pa­ges per day, pre­su­ming only a 10 ho­ur wor­k­day (short for the ti­me) and no press im­p­ro­ve­ments.

  Truly mass pro­duc­ti­on. Mo­re bo­oks we­re prin­ted with the­se Gu­ten­berg press print shops that had be­en prin­ted in all pre­vi­o­us his­tory. 30,000 tit­les.

  However, let's not pre­su­me that the­re was no re­ac­ti­onary po­li­tic­king on the su­bj­ect of this pub­lis­hing re­vo­lu­ti­on.

  The Sta­ti­oners Gu­ild, the or­ga­ni­za­ti­on of se­cu­lar scri­bes on the or­der of Bob Crat­c­hit of Dic­kens' A Chris­t­mas Ca­rol fa­me (tho­ugh Mr. Crat­c­hit al­so did arit­h­me­tic on his pa­ges) was not ple­ased to see its pre­vi­o­usly per­ma­nent mo­no­poly lost to this sin­g­le in­ven­ti­on that tur­ned the en­ti­re idea of "bo­ok­ness" up­si­de down.

  Indeed, tho­se who had bo­ught lib­ra­ri­es of bo­oks be­fo­re the Gu­ten­berg press had so­me aver­si­on to the ad­di­ti­on of the­se new kinds of bo­oks to the­ir lib­ra­ri­es, as they might de­va­lue the enor­mo­us cost of the pre­vi­o­us col­lec­ti­on.

  For the­se pe­op­le it was ob­vi­o­usly not the con­tent of the bo­ok that was of the gre­atest con­cern for de­ter­mi­ning its va­lue, but so­me ot­her fac­tor[s]. To­day, in my own ef­forts to bring elec­t­ro­nic bo­oks to the world, I of­ten see much the sa­me sort of thing.

  After all, why wo­uld an­yo­ne want a one po­und lib­rary that con­ta­ined as many bo­oks as the ave­ra­ge pub­lic lib­rary down the ro­ad? As well as ha­ve that lib­rary at ho­me and easily se­ar­c­hab­le?

  Obviously, su
ch pa­ra­digm shifts ta­ke much lon­ger for tho­se he­avily in­ves­ted in the pre­vi­o­usly exis­tent pa­ra­digm, as has be­en exem­p­li­fi­ed in so many ways.

  As al­ways, the­se pa­ra­digm shifts se­em to co­me fas­ter and fas­ter as ti­me go­es by, and even­tu­al­ly so­me co­me to the po­int of "Fu­tu­re Shock."

  It to­ok two hun­d­red fifty ye­ars for the Sta­ti­oners Gu­ild, la­ter re­na­med Sta­ti­oners Com­pany, to fi­nal­ly re­ga­in the­ir mo­no­po­lis­tic con­t­rol over the pub­lis­hing in­dustry, at le­ast in Gre­at Bri­ta­in, as the num­ber of tit­les ava­ilab­le for UK re­aders fell from 6,000 to 600 over­night, thus be­gin­ning the tra­de in il­le­gal bo­oks from a per­s­pec­ti­ve of both cen­sor­s­hip and scho­lar­s­hip.

  Going back to the Gu­ten­berg Re­vo­lu­ti­on, it do­esn't ta­ke much re­se­arch to find exam­p­les of bo­oks be­ing ta­ken out of pub­li­ca­ti­on by the Cat­ho­lic Church via a pro­cess of bur­ning the pub­lis­her at the sta­ke.

  The po­wers and for­ces at work he­re, both se­cu­lar and re­li­gi­o­us, are po­wer­ful, ama­zing in that they ha­ve go­ne lar­gely un­re­por­ted thro­ug­ho­ut his­tory, and are still en­ga­ged in the sa­me kind of be­ha­vi­or to­day.

  Perhaps the re­ason that they are so lar­gely un­re­por­ted is that the very ones we wo­uld rely on to con­vey them must go thro­ugh the very pub­lis­hing in­dustry that wo­uld cen­sor what they ha­ve to say.

  Here are a few exam­p­le in light of the kinds of po­wer dis­cus­sed he­re:

  The first pub­lis­hing re­vo­lu­ti­on was ob­vi­o­usly that of Johan­nes Gu­ten­berg and the re­ac­ti­onary po­li­tic­king of the sta­ti­oners ma­na­ged to stif­le or ta­ke over all of the pres­ses in Gre­at Bri­ta­in via "The Sta­tu­te of An­ne" in 1709-1710: the first suc­ces­sful cop­y­right law as we know it to­day.

  I say "first suc­ces­sful cop­y­right law" be­ca­use the sta­ti­oners at­tem­p­ted with even har­s­her cop­y­rights at le­ast back to 1557, and pro­bably even ear­li­er.

  These ear­li­er cop­y­right laws, even when they be­ca­me law, we­re so strin­gent a res­t­ric­ti­on on all rights to all wri­tings for all pre­vi­o­us his­tory, gi­ving a to­tal mo­no­poly to the sta­ti­oners on ever­y­t­hing ever writ­ten, that no one saw them as be­ing worthy of obe­di­en­ce or en­for­ce­ment.

  However, it sho­uld be no­ted that the ori­gin of cop­y­right law da­tes back from be­fo­re the Sta­tu­te of An­ne, and that the Sta­tu­te of An­ne was only a go­od law by com­pa­ri­son to the­se pre­vi­o­us at­tempts.

  Even so, for the first fo­ur­te­en ye­ars of pub­li­ca­ti­on, all rights be­lon­ged to mem­ber pub­lis­hers of the Sta­ti­oners Com­pany, and the only rights for the aut­hor was a pos­sib­le fo­ur­te­en ye­ar re­ne­wal that co­uld only be ma­de by a li­ving aut­hor and was of no va­lue if the bo­ok was al­re­ady out of print or if the sta­ti­oners de­ci­ded a bo­ok sho­uld go out of print when the aut­hor re­ne­wed the cop­y­right.

  This is what hap­pens when you al­low the pre­vi­o­us sta­tus quo to be re­ta­ined a lon­ger pe­ri­od thro­ugh le­gis­la­ti­on.

  Yet the exam­p­les go far and wi­de.

  Most of us ha­ve stu­di­ed ste­am po­wer to so­me ex­tent, from the ta­les of a Mr. John Henry com­pe­ting he­ad to he­ad with a ste­am po­we­red drill to Ful­ton's ste­am­bo­at, to the ste­am lo­co­mo­ti­ve and even the Stan­ley Ste­amer that held an as­sor­t­ment of spe­ed re­cords for many mo­re de­ca­des that one might think. The nuc­le­ar navy is all ste­am po­we­red, when it co­mes down to it.

  The his­tory of ste­am po­wer is qu­ite ama­zing, even down to the ste­am po­wer of har­ves­ters and thres­hers that used to tra­vel the Uni­ted Sta­tes as crops ca­me in and for a re­la­ti­vely small fee wo­uld bring in the crops in much less ti­me and with much less worry abo­ut the we­at­her.

  Yes, the his­tory of ste­am po­wer is most fas­ci­na­ting, and worth a go­od lo­ok.

  But most of us ha­ve ne­ver he­ard of ste­am po­wer prin­ting pres­ses.

  Why not?

  Here is the story.

  The Uni­ted Sta­tes be­ca­me an in­de­pen­dent co­untry and star­ted its cop­y­right in 1790 with only a re­la­ti­vely small num­ber of cop­y­right is­su­ed to start with.

  Nevertheless, when the­se first twen­ty-eight ye­ar cop­y­right pe­ri­ods be­gan to ex­pi­re for tho­se re­la­ti­vely few bo­oks still in print and ma­king a pro­fit, a new pa­tent, for the first high spe­ed ste­am prin­ting press, was is­su­ed in 1830, just ti­me eno­ugh to start re­pub­lis­hing the first ex­pi­ring cop­y­rig­h­ted U.S. ma­te­ri­als.

  Once aga­in a new pub­lis­hing tec­h­no­logy was stif­led by cop­y­right law with the U.S. Cop­y­right Act of 1831, which ex­ten­ded pre­vi­o­us cop­y­rights fo­ur­te­en mo­re ye­ars and thus stop­ped the ow­ners of the new high spe­ed ste­am pres­ses cold.

  The sa­me thing is true of elec­t­ri­city.

  Just as ste­am po­wer was the up and co­ming thing two cen­tu­ri­es, com­p­le­te with new high spe­ed prin­ting pres­ses.

  For the re­cord, it sho­uld be no­ted that they very first elec­t­ric prin­ting press pa­tent was is­su­ed in the sa­me de­ca­de as that high spe­ed ste­am press men­ti­oned abo­ve, but ste­am was the mo­re pre­va­lent form of po­wer for an aw­ful­ly long ti­me, so elec­t­ric pres­ses didn't get much pub­li­city, and sho­uld be no­ted as not be­ing vi­ab­le at all whe­re the­re was no elec­t­ric po­wer.

  However, by one cen­tury ago, elec­t­ri­city was the ra­ge, and ste­am po­wer co­uld be re­li­ed upon to tran­s­port ma­te­ri­als qu­ickly and inex­pen­si­vely to vast wi­de po­pu­la­ti­ons in are­as that used to be con­si­de­red qu­ite re­mo­te.

  The com­bi­na­ti­on of wi­de ra­il­ro­ad ser­vi­ce with new hig­her spe­ed prin­ting left an ope­ning that Se­ars and Ro­ebuck co­uldn't re­sist and they pub­lis­hed ca­ta­log bo­oks of 768 pa­ges, com­p­le­te with la­vish il­lus­t­ra­ti­on, and ma­iled them via a new Ru­ral Fe­de­ral De­li­very system, to mil­li­ons and mil­li­ons of ho­use­holds at no cost to the re­ci­pi­ent.

  For mil­li­ons of pe­op­le this was the first bo­ok they ever ow­ned.

  Once aga­in, this sort of thing was too much for the old pub­lis­hing in­dustry, as new pub­lis­hers sprang up at re­mo­te ra­il­ro­ad cros­sings, in­s­tal­led prin­ting pres­ses that co­uld fill a box­car over­night, and ship­ped bo­oks far and wi­de-at pri­ces that ga­ve he­art at­tacks to the ol­de bo­ye net­wor­ke pub­lis­hers.

  The re­sult, a third cop­y­right law, aga­in ex­p­res­sly de­sig­ned to stif­le yet an en­ti­rely new tec­h­no­logy of pub­li­ca­ti­on.

  The evi­den­ce of this is still ava­ilab­le at yo­ur lo­cal used bo­ok sto­re.

  Just go in and ask for bo­oks that are abo­ut one hun­d­red ye­ars old.

  You'll find a num­ber of rep­rint ho­uses da­ting back be­fo­re 1909, when the new cop­y­right law went in­to ef­fect, but only a few of them re­ma­ined much af­ter.

  Before 1909, well over 90% of all bo­oks at le­ast thirty ye­ars old we­re rep­rints, simply be­ca­use the­ir cop­y­rights had not be­en re­ne­wed in the­ir twen­ty-eighth ye­ar.

  The ori­gi­nal pub­lis­hers didn't find it pro­fi­tab­le to ke­ep them in print.

  However, with the new tec­h­no­lo­gi­es of prin­ting and dis­t­ri­bu­ti­on, pub­lis­hers of the new va­ri­ety we­re ab­le to ma­ke a pro­fit whe­re the ol­de bo­ye net­wor­kes had be­en too lac­ka­da­isi­cal to in­vest.

  Instead, they in­ves­ted in the Jack Ab­ra­moff lob­byists of the­ir day, just the sa­me way as in the day of the ste­am po­we­red prin­ting pres­ses, and just that exact sa­me way as t
he sta­ti­oners had in­ves­ted in the first cop­y­right laws.

  Thus we now see three in­for­ma­ti­on ages stif­led by this kind of le­gis­la­ti­on, each ti­me pa­id for by the ol­de bo­ye net­wor­ke of pub­lis­hers.

  The fo­urth such in­for­ma­ti­on age was that of the Xe­rox mac­hi­ne, and its very si­mi­lar de­mi­se at the hands of the U.S. Cop­y­right act of 1976.

  The fifth such in­for­ma­ti­on age is the one we cur­rently oc­cupy, and its very si­mi­lar ef­forts by the ol­de bo­ye net­wor­ke of pub­lis­hers via U.S. cop­y­right, as set forth in the "Sonny Bo­no Cop­y­right Act" or "Mic­key Mo­use Cop­y­right," as the U.S. Cop­y­right Act of 1998 is of­ten cal­led.

  Thus we see that the fi­ve ma­j­or steps of the In­dus­t­ri­al Re­vo­lu­ti­on ha­ve the sa­me res­pon­se from the ol­de bo­ye net­wor­ke of the day:

  Let's pass a law to ma­ke our com­pe­ti­ti­on il­le­gal.

  These pa­ral­lels bet­we­en pub­lis­hing and In­dus­t­ri­al Re­vo­lu­ti­ons ha­ve not be­en me­re ac­ci­dents of his­tory, as might be tho­ught due to the fact that his­tory as ta­ught and writ­ten by his­to­ri­ans, has hardly men­ti­oned them at all.

 

‹ Prev