Virtual confetti rains down from my browser’s title bar. I shield my eyes from the garish text flashing rhythmically to the pulse of John Philip Sousa, which squawks with all the pomp and grandeur that a poor little MIDI File can muster. “Congratulations on reading your 500th photography article on the subject of copyright infringement!” it exclaims — further proof that Google knows far too much about my personal proclivities.
I’m not sure exactly what attracts me to this particular genre. Perhaps I’m just endlessly fascinated by human audacity.
The articles divide into three distinct classes. In many cases, the author recounts how some rookie photographer decided to bypass the tedious learning curve by simply claiming the author’s images as their own. Other authors tell of compunctionless corporations who poach photographs from Flickr, and use them in worldwide marketing campaigns for hamster deodorant. Every so often, the articles are outrageous narratives about idea-bereft photographers who painstakingly recreate (rather than appropriate) another photographer’s carefully staged image — thus crossing over into the area of intellectual property theft.
What I find particularly curious about these articles is that, in nearly every case, the image thief rarely recognizes that they’ve done anything wrong. To the victim, it’s a crime. To the perpetrator, it’s “fair use.”
Alas, I’ve learned it’s beyond the humble scope of ULTRAsomething to alter social mores. The best I can do is observe, learn, react and report. As such, my report on copyright infringement might surprise you, but here it is: In the seven years that I’ve published ULTRAsomething, no one (to the best of my knowledge) has ever stolen a single one of my photos.
Intriguing, isn’t it?
You’re probably wondering how I’ve done it. Intrusively visible watermarks? Digimarc registration? High-priced lawyers crafting menacing legalese?
Nope.
My technique is far simpler — I take photographs that no one wants to steal.
It’s important to realize that I’m not advocating crappy photography. Just because someone doesn’t want to steal something doesn’t mean it’s without value. For example, I’d wager more people would bootleg a recording of Beyoncé snoring than would steal, say, a copy of Bernard Parmeggiani’s De Natura Sonorum album. But this doesn’t mean the Parmeggiani album isn’t great, nor does it mean that the slumbering Beyoncé album is. It’s just the inevitable result of the bell curve of popular culture. The more popular something is, the more unscrupulous profiteers it attracts.
At some point, every photographer must choose between two audiences. Either they must satisfy the visual requirements of the world at large, or they must satisfy those of a single individual — themselves. The all-too-human desire for recognition, validation and income makes it rather difficult to ignore the call of the world. But it’s this same call that also attracts thieves, opportunists and copyright infringers.
I’m one of the lucky ones — I chose the “personal” path, and my photographs diverge markedly from public inclination. Occasionally, some less-fortunate photographer will also choose the personal route, only to discover they’re actually in-sync with world sentiment. Granted, this enables them to pursue their passion without having to renounce popularity or earnings, but at what price? The price of being targeted by image thieves, that’s what!
It would be a rare rookie photographer who would recognize the “charm” of my photos — so noobs never steal ‘em. Likewise, their obfuscated and metaphoric appeal means they receive little interest from corporations, who require photographs that register with a mass audience. And, since my photos are almost totally of the “found” (rather than “staged”) variety, there’s no intellectual property to steal, because there’s no intellect involved in their creation.
In general, the more personal your photography and the more intimate your motives, the less likely others will claim your photos as their own. Sure, you’re destined for a life of obscurity. And yes, people might snicker at the fact you only own two shirts, which you’ve worn on alternate days since Y2K was an actual global concern. But it all seems worthwhile when you find yourself kicking back to read another photographer’s tale of copyright woe, rather than settling in to write one of your own.
©2015 grEGORy simpson
ABOUT THESE PHOTOS: “Artistic License” was shot with a Leica Monochrom M (Type 246) and a Leica 50mm f/2 Summicron APO ASPH lens. “Mixed Metaphors” was also shot with a Leica Monochrom M (Type 246), this time fronted with a Leica 28mm f/2 Summicron. “Jack” was grabbed with my little Ricoh GR, while “Abduction” sees the Monochrom M (Type 246) return to action, but now with the Voigtlander 50mm f/1.5 Nokton lens.
REMINDER: If you find these photos enjoyable or the articles beneficial, please consider making a DONATION to this site’s continuing evolution. As you’ve likely realized, ULTRAsomething is not an aggregator site — serious time and effort go into developing the original content contained within these virtual walls.
Beautiful!
Excellent.
I’ve occasionally had someone ask for a print of one of my photos on Flickr, and once had a company contact me to shoot a set for them because they liked what I did with a theme. But mostly I post what I shoot because it’s what I like … and I guess, like you, my general notions are alien enough to the rest of the world’s themes that they just leave mine alone.
It may be a lonely wilderness out here, but it’s one secure from theft.
G
Hi Egor
Have you ever considered that maybe some of your photographs could have been crop-stolen? Would it be still a theft or an act of intelectual (?) creation?
Ah, yes.. the Richard Prince question.
Curious case that one. I’m still rather surprised that a judge would claim that it’s perfectly acceptable to take a photograph of someone else’s photograph and sell it as your own without bothering to even credit the original photographer. Not sure how I see this as a legitimate example of “fair use” but, as I said in the article, ULTRAsomething is rather powerless to alter social (or, in this case, “legal”) mores.
However, if it were my photos being stolen by Richard Prince and sold for millions of dollars under his own name, I’d certainly make a stab at changing the legal landscape. Fortunately (for me), I don’t believe either Richard Prince, the galleries that carry his work, or the people who purchase it have the slightest bit of interest in the sort of photography I like — which further backs up my “just take photos no one wants to steal” doctrine.
Ha, never heard of this guy until now.
Anyway, here something from my yard (geographically, not profesionally): http://sylwiamucha.fotoblogia.pl/2700,sprawa-plagiatu-zdjecia-slubnego-final .
As it’s only in polish a small resume:
A wedding photographer being at weeding fairs found a stand with a photograph similar to his work. He felt his copyright to the idea has been breached and asked to remove the photo from the stand at fairs and portfolio at www (the original in BW, the copy in color). The response was: no, until you have a court verdict. So a lawsuit has been started and shortly a settlement has been reached: the plagiarists had to remove the questioned photo from their www, apologize the owner of the idea and cover court and lawyer fees. No recompensation for the plaintiff as his only concern was not money the plagiarists earned (or could earn) but only breaching the priniciples (of community life I think, as the plaintiff said only about principles).
Before the case was ended I was sure it would be dismissed (or how it should be called) because such a thing like an idea of a photograph, especially in this kind of photography, couldn’t be protected by copyright.
Mr. Simpson,
I came by your site via your review of the Leica M-A a few months ago – while I was contemplating the purchase of my first Leica camera, this after shooting Nikon film cameras for 25 years. With your article’s help, I ended up with a double stroke M3 that has been de-chromed and has all its brass showing. Needless to say, I’m having a blast.
Since then, I have read through most of your old posts and find your writing both astute and highly entertaining. Having read many passages from your blog to my wife for her bemusement (much of what you say I have been spouting to her for years, just much less humorously) she has insisted that I send you a comment of thanks – something I’ve never done before. So:
Thank you for sharing your photography and thoughts with us and spending all the effort I’m sure that entails. I look forward to many more laughs and inspiration.
And more on point, I implement an even more fool-proof program to avoid plagiarism: not only do I take photos that refuse to take notice of current tastes, I do so on film that I rarely develop and almost never get around to scanning. That’ll teach’em.
Eric.
I am in the same boat as you, Eric, having happened on Greg’s blog several months ago. I, too, have enjoyed his writings as touching some of the same thoughts I have had although less eloquently.
As to copyright issues, Greg, I have only had one photo used without my permission by a corporate entity. Then, knowing they were in the wrong, they paid the bill I sent rather quickly.
I did a Google search of “photographer richard owen” and found my site showed up as the second listing! That is a hoot!
Eric: Thanks for dutifully minding your wife, and commenting. I’m happy to receive each and every comment that comes in, even if I don’t get an opportunity to answer all of them.
Sadly, I’m not sure your system will necessarily be even more fool-proof than mine. Just because you don’t get around to scanning your negatives in this lifetime, doesn’t mean they won’t be subject to copyright battles after your demise. Consider the case of Vivien Maier. She was a practitioner of your technique — it was only after her death that people discovered her negatives, and now all sorts of people are fighting and suing each other over the rights to publish, sell and display them — and these are people she didn’t even know.
Best, I think, to go the Brett Weston route and burn your negatives before you die. Of course Brett was foolish enough to actually PRINT his photos before burning the negs, so even that’s not totally fool-proof.
Maybe the only truly fool-proof means of protecting yourself is to simply look at what interests you, rather than photographing it. 🙂
Greg,
I don’t think anyone writes better about Photographing than you do.
Fred
Thanks for the kind compliment, Fred!
Alas, it’s really just the side-effect of a lifetime spent constantly needing to explain my photographs…
I have to agree with this comment. Creative, engaging, authentic. A completely enjoyable and edifying style. Congrats, Egor
Oh, well, the day somebody starts using images I post I’ll start worrying about it. I’d actually be pleased to find out that maybe just maybe I can finance the replacement of my Monochrom the day it will croak… Just very maybe. Hopefully a good way down the road from here…