Tag: IPhistory

A Curious Copyright Footnote of 1938 Proceedings of the American Society of International Law at Its Annual Meeting

Image from here

Bonjour,

I found something today, not that dazzling or dramatic (like I found before), but perhaps a useful little footnote at the very least.

While the postwar shift in U.S. copyright policy—from pirate nation to IP policeman—is hardly news, it is still striking to see it stated so plainly on record by Richard C. De Wolf, then Law Officer of the U.S. Copyright Office. There are, of course, other sources that point in the same direction, but having lit upon this one, I thought it worth flagging for further scrutiny. I came across the remark while leafing through the 1938 Proceedings of the American Society of International Law. There is nothing revolutionary here … but only the sort of archival soupçon that lends a scholarly piece a sharper, more serviceable footnote.

Source: Wallace McClure & Clement L. Bouvé, International Law of Copyright, 32 Proceedings of the American Society of International Law at Its Annual Meeting 44–62 (Apr. 28–30, 1938). https://www.jstor.org/stable/25656973

At page 56, De Wolf remarks:

The question is always coining up: Why is it that the United States, which has long been a party to other conventions for the protection of intellec tual and industrial property, should have so long remained outside the Con vention for the Protection of Literary Property.

I think a little reflection answers that question. We have been, in regard to inventions, a creating or producing nation. Our inventions have gone abroad and our interest has been to see to it that an American inventor was protected in foreign countries without too much difficulty. On the other hand, until quite recently the United States has been a consuming country with regard to the creations of the mind in the narrower sense, that is, works of literature and art. Therefore, the interests of the exploiters of literary property have prevailed in this country over those of the producers. But now the shoe is going onto the other foot. Since the advent of American motion pictures and a certain type of popular music, Europe has come to be much more largely a consumer of American products of these kinds than it was in earlier times. Consequently we are beginning to think of the interests of our own creators of literature and art in foreign countries and we are asking the question why should we have to go to thirty or forty different foreign countries and perform formalities in those different countries in order to be sure that these works of ours are protected there. 

Something seems inherently wrong and repugnant to logical thinking in the idea that a man, having written a book?and I presume among all of this audience there is no one who has not done it or has not thought of doing it? should have to go through a lot of burdensome formalities in order to have that work copyrighted in every different foreign country. Of course this was the aspect of the thing that was present in the minds of the people who for mulated the International Copyright Convention. Each country, of course, preferred to legislate for itself; each country had a certain national policy with regard to what should be done to protect copyrights and, of course, wanted to adhere to that with regard to the works of foreign authors. 

But after a while the system broke down. An Englishman writing a book had to attend to formalities in twenty-five or thirty foreign countries, and a Frenchman likewise. The formalities became so burdensome that every body got together and said, “Here, we will all make some sacrifices. We will sacrifice our national inclinations so far as the citizens of other countries are concerned and, in return, they will sacrifice their inclinations so far as we are concerned, and we will all get together and wipe out the formalities. And the fact of the matter is that the system has worked, and I am sure they would not think of abandoning it. Yet, as Colonel Bouve has pointed out, each country is left with a wide latitude with respect to its own citizens and also with respect to the assertion of protection in the courts of the country. 

It seems to me that the time has now come when the United States must take up this question seriously. In fact, it has been taken up seriously for some time past. When I first came to the Copyright Office thirty years ago I met Thorvald Solberg, who then and for many years afterwards was Register of Copyrights and whom you know as a persistent advocate of the adherence of the United States to the Copyright Convention. I am frank to say that I imbibed these views from him, and I hold them now. I think that really will be the next and greatest advance in the field of copyright law which is now open to the United States.

Okay. That’s it from my end today. See you in the next post.

Thanks

A Quick Note on Archival Research at the British Library

Image from here

Salam/Namaskar,

A few months ago, while working at the British Library in the UK for my PhD research, Akshat suggested that I put together a short note, a quick guide, of sorts, on conducting archival research there. I must note at the outset that I remain a novice in this space, learning as I go, and understanding the rhythms of the British Library’s reading rooms. What follows, therefore, is not a definitive directive but a modest, even meandering reflection on my own experience.

1. Registration and Access: Access to the British Library begins with getting a Reader Pass. To do this, you must: Provide a valid identification document with proof of address. Importantly, anyone from anywhere in the world can register, provided they have a valid address and the required documentation. See here for more information.

2. Choosing the Reading Room: Once registered, the next step is to determine which Reading Room is most relevant to your work. The Library has several rooms, including Manuscripts, Newspapers, Rare Books, and the South Asian reading rooms, etcetera. Please note that materials related to your field may not always be limited to a single room. For example, even if you are working on copyright law, you may find useful material in the Newspaper section, Manuscripts, or South Asian collections. You can search them here.  Personally, I usually begin with the South Asian collections, as much of my research relates to colonial and Indian copyright history.

3. Using the Online Catalogue and Requesting Materials: The British Library website and catalogue are central to the research process. You can find all the catalogues in our collection https://www.bl.uk/collection, which holds over 170 million items–something that grows bigger every day. Speaking of my my, here’s how I do it. I begin with broad search terms (for example: “British copyright law,” “Indian copyright,” or “international copyright”) on this Archives and Manuscripts Catalogue, but you can also check the Main Catalogue.

Once you see a relevant document, you can either submit a request online using your account (you have to create one) or, in most cases, you can use this Request form to access the material. Accuracy is crucial when filling out the request form — particularly when selecting the correct “collection area” or designated reading room. See the image below for what I mean by the collection area. If this is entered incorrectly, the request may be rejected. 

It takes around an hour to receive your requested material, so you must submit the request on time. For example, if you request it in the late evening around 3 PM, you may receive it by 4, but you cannot finish reading it, as you will need to return the material by 4.40 PM, as many reading rooms close at 5 PM. 

Of course, you cannot make unlimited requests. As I was informed, you can make up to 10 requests per day. At any given time, you cannot have more than 30 items requested or in circulation. (But do confirm this …) If it’s your first time, don’t worry. The librarians are extremely helpful, especially if you know: the relevant years, the names of individuals, or the type of document you are searching for. Please know that while photography is generally permitted, in some cases, you may obtain permission from the reference staff, but this is not guaranteed.

Final words

Archival work itself can be demanding. Locating relevant sources is surely difficult, confusing, and even taxing. What I typically do is treat each document as a lead: once I see a name, a reference, a date, or a piece of correspondence, I follow it further. One file points to another, and gradually a network of connections and a story begin to emerge.

To give a concrete example: While researching the history of the Indian Copyright Act of 1847, I encountered references to Lord Hardinge, who was the Governor-General of India at the time. While I have yet to investigate this trail fully, a search of the catalogue for correspondence from 1846 to 1849 reveals that files containing his letters do exist. On my next visit, I plan to check the specific letters mentioned in the copyright file discussions. In doing so, I hope to trace the exchanges more closely and see the history(ies) surrounding the drafting of the Act.

In sum, the key is simply to begin ‘somewhere’ — with a topic, a name, a year, or a letter — and then follow the trail with care.

Okay, that’s from my end for now.

À bientôt, de vous revoir.

An Interesting 1965 Piece: International Copyright and the Soviet Union by Allan P. Cramer

Image from here

Namaskar/Salam

So the other day …. I fell, most unwillingly but quite happily, down a rather curious piece (though I confess I only truly read it now, as one does with the more tempting of intellectual distractions! Alas, life is such).

It was a piece from 1967 in the Duke Law Journal, a slender sixteen-page text … dressed in all the full regalia of the American law review tradition. I mean … the dense, deliberate, and detailedly footnoted text, as though the citations are contesting for attention with the text they adorn.

But there is something else as well that ignites my interest in this piece. For one, there is, I find, something rather beguiling about writing on Soviet copyright discourse. It remains strangely under-visited in English scholarship, or at least, not easily sighted in the usual mainstream historical scholarship. Perhaps it is hiding in some archives acloves, carrying the digital dust … awaiting more patient, more persistent pursuers. At times, I suspect I ought to search more earnestly; there is likely an entire cartography of thought yet unmapped.

Secondly, as I suggested above, I liked the citations of this piece, which detour into forgotten corners, pause for brief historical asides, and occasionally seem to breathe with a life of their own. One begins to feel (at least I did) that the author took greater pleasure in the footnotes than in the main text itself.

(Well … if one were ever inclined toward an IP trivia night, this is the sort of piece one would chip in, quietly and watch the room slowly realise that copyright discourse is far more entertaining than it had dared to assume.)

But I shall not linger in preamble any longer. Below follows the citation of the piece, and thereafter a fragment of its introduction

Citation: Allan P. Cramer, International Copyright and the Soviet Union, 1965 Duke Law Journal 531-545 (1965). Available at: https://scholarship.law.duke.edu/dlj/vol14/iss3/3

INTRODUCTION (footnotes omitted)

THE COPYRIGHT laws of a country have no extraterritorial application. Nevertheless, practically every nation in the world, by adherence to either bilateral or multilateral treaties or conventions, protects copyrights of foreign nationals. The Soviet Union alone among the major world powers has refused to recognise international copyright and does not adhere to any treaty or convention for the protection of copyrights. As a result, that country’s state-controlled publishing firms have, generally without seeking permission or paying royalties, printed whatever foreign works they felt were suitable for Soviet minds. During the period from 1917-1950, it has been estimated that one billion copies of books protected by foreign copyright were published in the Soviet Union. Among these were more than seventy-seven million copies of 2700 books by some 200 United States authors, including Jack London, Mark Twain, Theodore Dreiser, Upton Sinclair, Erskine Caldwell, Sin-clair Lewis, John Steinbeck and Ernest Hemingway.” Numerous foreign scientific and technical publications, short stories, plays10 and miscellaneous articles¹¹ have also been published in the U.S.S.R. Thus, that country has been characterized as “the world’s most active literary pirate.”This article will consider various reasons for the Soviet Union’s position concerning international copyright. In addition, it will outline some attempts which have been made to change the Soviet view and evaluate future prospects for the solution of the problem.

Do take a look at the piece. Happy reading …

See you in the next post.

A bientôt.

Interesting Reading: 19th Century’s Conference Culture and Belgium’s Soft Power

Image from here


(This post continues a series where I share readings that I’ve found useful or, at the very least, intellectually stimulating. See here and here.)

Salam/Namaskar

The nineteenth century was somewhat a moment for international law. It was marked by a distinctive, I’d say, thought style in which organising international congresses to address perceived “social problems” became almost a thing. Intellectual property (IP) treaties were no exception. The late nineteenth century, as Bentley and Sherman claim, was a period of consolidation of IP laws and the beginnings of IP expertise as a specialised legal field. (Its a must-read book for IP history enthusiasts!)

I recently chanced upon two pieces that speak nicely to this broader historical moment, and I think our readers here may find them both useful and intriguing. Before pasting their abstracts below, let me briefly flag what they offer.

The first piece looks at the international congresses held between 1846 and 1914. ‘Tis a short yet sharp account of the early conference culture of internationalism—mapping not only the sheer proliferation of such meetings, but also the kinds of ideas, aspirations, and even anxieties that circulated within them. It can be a useful piece for someone willing to dig deeper into this topic. For those interested in IP like me, this can turn useful in tracing the genealogy of international copyright law.

Belgium, as is well known, emerges as a key site in this history. Brussels hosted a remarkable number of international copyright meetings, most notably the 1858 Congress, arguably the first serious attempt to forge the foundation of international copyright law, which would later become the Berne Convention. The second piece offers why Belgium came to organise so many international congresses in the first place. These congresses functioned as a form of soft power.

Read together, these pieces help situate international copyright law not merely as a doctrinal or treaty-based development, but as part of a wider nineteenth-century culture of conferencing, expertise-building, and international problem-solving—one where law, politics, and power were deeply intertwined.

Okay, here are the readings:

Christophe Verbruggen et al, Social Reform International Congresses and Organizations (1846–1914): From Sources to Data, Journal of Open Humanities Data (2022)

TIC-Collaborative was a collaborative digital humanities project that focused on transnational intellectual cooperation (TIC) in the long nineteenth century, in particular on transnational connections in the field of social reform. The dataset contains information on over 1650 international congresses and 450 organizations and conference series related to the social question. The project focussed on the Low Countries and a selection of reform areas.

The piece also provides a gripping graph showing how the congresses escalated after 1845, see page 4

“Social reform international congresses and organizations, 1846–1914”

DAVID AUBIN, Congress Mania in Brussels, 1846—1856: Soft Power, Transnational Experts, and Diplomatic Practices, 50(4) Historical Studies in the Natural Sciences (2020) pp. 340-363 (24 pages)

In 1853, the director of the Belgium Royal Observatory, Adolphe Quetelet, welcomed delegates from several countries to two consecutive meetings that have acquired considerable reputation as the first international congresses of, respectively, mete- orology and statistics. This paper examines the local context where several similar international congresses (on free trade, universal peace, prison reform, public hygiene, etc.) were organized in the same decade. It argues that the new Belgian state developed this new form of international conference in order to bolster its soft power in the Concert of Nations. It also discusses tensions between national interests and global beliefs in the efficiency of science, which arose from these congresses.

On a tangential (but highly recommended) note, do check out this beautifully penned piece by my dearest friend Shivam Kaushik, How India Learnt to Stop Complaining and Love Copyright. It pairs rather well with the themes discussed here.

Okay, that’s it for this post! See you in the next post.