Google’s Plan for World’s Biggest Online Library: Philanthropy or Act of Piracy A) In recent years, teams of workers dispatched by Google have been working hard to make digital copies of books. So far, Google has scanned more than 10 million titles from libraries in America and Europe—including half a million volumes held by the Bodleian in Oxford. The exact method it uses is unclear; the company does not allow outsiders to observe the process. Why is Google undertaking such a venture B) Why is it even interested in all those out-of-print library books, most of which have been gathering dust on forgotten shelves for decades The company claims its motives are essentially public-spirited. Its overall mission, after all, is to "organise the world’s information," so it would be odd if that information did not include books. The company likes to present itself as having lofty aspirations. "This really isn’t about making money. We are doing this for the good of society." As Santiago de la Morn, head of Google Books for Europe, puts it: "By making it possible to search the millions of books that exist today, we hope to expand the frontiers of human knowledge." C) Dan Clancy, the chief architect of Google Books, does seem genuine in his conviction that this is primarily a philanthropic (慈善的) exercise. "Google’s core business is search and find, so obviously what helps improve Google’s search engine is good for Google," he says. "But we have never built a spreadsheet (电子数据表) outlining the financial benefits of this, and I have never had to justify the amount I am spending to the company’s founders." D) It is easy, talking to Clancy and his colleagues, to be swept along by their missionary passion. But Google’s book-scanning project is proving controversial. Several opponents have recently emerged, ranging from rival tech giants such as Microsoft and Amazon to small bodies representing authors and publishers across the world. In broad terms, these opponents have levelled two sets of criticisms at Google. E) First, they have questioned whether the primary responsibility for digitally archiving the world’s books should be allowed to fall to a commercial company, in a recent essay in the New York Review of Books, Robert Darnton, the head of Harvard University’s library, argued that because such books are a common resource—the possession of us all—only public, not-for-profit bodies should be given the power to control them. F) The second related criticism is that Google’s scanning of books is actually illegal. This allegation has led to Google becoming mired in (陷入) a legal battle whose scope and complexity makes the Jarndyce and Jarndyce case in Charles Dickens’ Bleak House look straightforward. At its centre, however, is one simple issue: that of copyright. The inconvenient fact about most books, to which Google has arguably paid insufficient attention, is that they are protected by copyright. Copyright laws differ from country to country, but in general protection extends for the duration of an author’s life and for a substantial period afterwards, thus allowing the author’s heirs to benefit. (In Britain and America, this post-death period is 70 years.) This means, of course, that almost all of the books published in the 20th century are still under copyright—and the last century saw more books published than in all previous centuries combined. Of the roughly 40 million books in US libraries, for example, an estimated 32 million are in copyright. Of these, some 27 million are out of print. G) Outside the US, Google has made sure only to scan books that are out of copyright and thus in the "public domain" (works such as the Bodleian’s first edition of Middlemarch, which anyone can read for free on Google Books Search). H) But, within the US, the company has scanned both in-copyright and out-of-copyright works. In its defence, Google points out that it displays only small segments of books that are in copyright—arguing that such displays are "fair use." But critics allege that by making electronic copies of these books without first seeking the permission of copyright holders, Google has committed piracy. "The key principle of copyright law has always been that works can be copied only once authors have expressly given their permission," says Piers Blofeld, of the Sheil Land literary agency in London. "Google has reversed this—it has simply copied all these works without bothering to ask." I) In 2005, the Authors Guild of America, together with a group of US publishers, launched a class action suit (集团诉讼) against Google that, after more than two years of negotiation, ended with an announcement last October that Google and the claimants had reached an out-of-court settlement. The full details are complicated—the text alone runs to 385 pages—and trying to summarise it is no easy task. "Part of the problem is that it is basically incomprehensible," says Blofeld, one of the settlement’s most vocal British critics. J) Broadly, the deal provides a mechanism for Google to compensate authors and publishers whose rights it has breached (including giving them a share of any future revenue it generates from their works). In exchange for this, the rights holders agree not to sue Google in future. K) This settlement hands Google the power—but only with the agreement of individual rights holders—to exploit its database of out-of-print books. It can include them in subscription deals sold to libraries or sell them individually under a consumer licence. It is these commercial provisions that are proving the settlement’s most controversial aspect. L) Critics point out that, by giving Google the right to commercially exploit its database, the settlement paves the way for a subtle shift in the company’s role from provider of information to seller. "Google’s business model has always been to provide information for free, and sell advertising on the basis of the traffic this generates," points out James Grimmelmann, associate professor at New York Law School. Now, he says, because of the settlement’s provisions, Google could become a significant force in bookselling. M) Interest in this aspect of the settlement has focused on "orphan" works, where there is no known copyright holder—these make up an estimated 5%-10% of the books Google has scanned. Under the settlement, when no rights holders come forward and register their interest in a work, commercial control automatically reverts to Google. Google will be able to display up to 20% of orphan works for free, include them in its subscription deals to libraries and sell them to individual buyers under the consumer licence. N) It is by no means certain that the settlement will be enacted (执行)—it is the subject of a fairness hearing in the US courts. But if it is enacted, Google will in effect be off the hook as far as copyright violations in the US are concerned. Many people are seriously concerned by this—and the company is likely to face challenges in other courts around the world. O) No one knows the precise use Google will make of the intellectual property it has gained by scanning the world’s library books, and the truth, as Gleick, an American science writer and member of the Authors Guild, points out, is that the company probably doesn’t even know itself. But what is certain is that, in some way or other, Google’s entrance into digital bookselling will have a significant impact on the book world in years to come. Critics remarked that the settlement of the commercial provision could make Google a strong competitor in bookselling business.
Thirst Grows for Living Unplugged More people are taking breaks from the connected life amid the stillness and quiet of retreats like the Jesuit Centre in Wernersville, Pennsylvania. A) About a year ago, I flew to Singapore to join the writer Malcolm Gladwell, the fashion designer Marc Ecko and the graphic designer Stefan Sagmeister in addressing a group of advertising people on "Marketing to the Child of Tomorrow." Soon after I arrived, the chief executive of the agency that had invited us took me aside. What he was most interested in, he began, was stillness and quiet. B) A few months later, I read an interview with the well-known cutting-edge designer Philippe Starck. What allowed him to remain so consistently ahead of the curve "I never read any magazines or watch TV," he said, perhaps with a little exaggeration. "Nor do I go to cocktail parties, dinners or anything like that." He lived outside conventional ideas, he implied, because "I live alone mostly, in the middle of nowhere." C) Around the same time, I noticed that those who part with $2,285 a night to stay in a cliff-top room at the Post Ranch Inn in Big Sur, California, pay partly for the privilege of not having a TV in their rooms; the future of travel, I’m reliably told, lies in "black-hole resorts", which charge high prices precisely because you can’t get online in their rooms. D) Has it really come to this The more ways we have to connect, the more many of us seem desperate to unplug, Internet rescue camps in Republic of Korea and China try to save kids addicted to the screen. Writer friends of mine pay good money to get the Freedom software that enables them to disable the very Internet connections that seemed so emancipating not long ago. Even Intel experimented in 2007 with conferring four uninterrupted hours of quiet time (no phone or e-mail) every Tuesday morning on 300 engineers and managers. Workers were not allowed to use the phone or send e-mail, but simply had the chance to clear their heads and to hear themselves think. E) The average American spends at least eight and a half hours a day in front of a screen. Nicholas Carr notes in his book The Shallows. The average American teenager sends or receives 75 text messages a day, though one girl managed to handle an average of 10,000 every 24 hours for a month. Since luxury is a function of scarcity, the children of tomorrow will long for nothing more than intervals of freedom from all the blinking machines, streaming videos and scrolling headlines that leave them feeling empty and too full all at once. F) The urgency of slowing down—to find the time and space to think—is nothing new, of course, and wiser sods have always reminded us that the more attention we pay to the moment, the less time and energy we have to place it in some larger context. "Distraction is the only thing that consoles us for our miseries," the French philosopher Blaise Pascal wrote in the 17th century, "and yet it is itself the greatest of our miseries." He also famously remarked that all of man’s problems come from his inability to sit quietly in a room alone. G) When telegraphs and trains brought in the idea that convenience was more important than content, Henry David Thoreau reminded us that "the man whose horse trots (奔跑) a mile in a minute does not carry the most important messages." Marshall McLuhan, who came closer than most to seeing what was coming, warned, "When things come at you very fast, naturally you lose touch with yourself." We have more and more ways to communicate, but less and less to say. Partly because we are so busy communicating. And we are rushing to meet so many deadlines that we hardly register that what we need most are lifelines. H) So what to do More and more people I know seem to be turning to yoga, or meditation (沉思), or tai chi (太极); these aren’t New Age fads (时尚事物) so much as ways to connect with what could be called the wisdom of old age. Two friends of mine observe an "Internet sabbath (安息日)" every week, turning off their online connections from Friday night to Monday morning. Other friends take walks and "forget" their cellphones at home. I) A series of tests in recent years has shown, Mr. Carr points out, that after spending time in quiet rural settings, subjects "exhibit greater attentiveness, stronger memory and generally improved cognition. Their brains become both calmer and sharper." More than that, empathy (同感,共鸣), as well as deep thought, depends (as neuroscientists like Antonio Damasio have found) on neural processes that are "inherently slow." J) I turn to eccentric measures to try to keep my mind sober and ensure that I have time to do nothing at all (which is the only time when I can see what I should be doing the rest of the time). I have yet to use a cellphone and I have never Twittered or entered Facebook. I try not to go online till my day’s writing is finished, and I moved from Manhattan to rural Japan in part so I could more easily survive for long stretches entirely on foot. None of this is a matter of asceticism (苦行主义); it is just pure selfishness. Nothing makes me feel better than being in one place, absorbed in a book, a conversation, or music. It is actually something deeper than mere happiness: it is joy, which the monk (僧侣) David Steindl-Rast describes as "that kind of happiness that doesn’t depend on what happens." K) It is vital, of course, to stay in touch with the world. But it is only by having some distance from the world that you can see it whole, and understand what you should be doing with it. For more than 20 years, therefore, I have been going several times a year—often for no longer than three days—to a Benedictine hermitage (修道院), 40 minutes down the road, as it happens, from the Post Ranch Inn. I don’t attend services when I am there, and I have never meditated, there or anywhere; I just take walks and read and lose myself in the stillness, recalling that it is only by stepping briefly away from my wife and bosses and friends that I will have anything useful to bring to them. The last time I was in the hermitage, three months ago, I happened to meet with a youngish-looking man with a 3-year-old boy around his shoulders. L) "You’re Pico, aren’t you" the man said, and introduced himself as Larry; we had met, I gathered, 19 years before, when he had been living in the hermitage as an assistant to one of the monks. "What are you doing now" I asked. We smiled. No words were necessary. "I try to bring my kids here as often as I can," he went on. The child of tomorrow, I realized, may actually be ahead of us, in terms of sensing not what is new, but what is essential. In order to see the whole world, the author thinks it necessary to have some distance from the world.