Copyright v. Attribution Based Economics

(A fable, co-written with Bard.)

The courtroom was hushed, anticipation thick in the air. Today, the case of Copyright v. Attribution-Based Economics (ABE) would be heard, a battle with the potential to reshape the very fabric of software development.

On one side stood Copyright, a formidable figure draped in the tattered robes of tradition. His voice, though once authoritative, creaked with the weight of years and the changing tides of technology. He argued for the continued protection of intellectual property, insisting that only through exclusive rights could creators be assured fair compensation and innovation be incentivized.

But against him stood ABE, a young upstart whose youthful energy crackled in the courtroom. Dressed in the vibrant colors of collaboration and open access, ABE challenged the status quo. She spoke of the limitations of copyright, its inability to adequately address the realities of modern software development and the collaborative spirit of the digital age.

“Copyright is a relic of a bygone era,” ABE declared, her voice ringing with conviction. “It fails to recognize the contributions of countless collaborators, prior efforts, and the community at large. It erects walls around knowledge, hindering access and stifling innovation.”

She painted a bleak picture of a world where paywalls locked away essential software, where fear of legal repercussions stifled collaboration, and where the rewards of creation flowed disproportionately to a select few.

“But there is a better way,” ABE proclaimed, her voice rising. “Attribution-Based Economics offers a new paradigm. It rewards creators and contributors based on their specific contributions, ensuring fairness and recognition for all. It fosters collaboration by tearing down legal barriers and promoting the free exchange of knowledge.”

ABE spoke of a future where software development thrived, fueled by open access, collaboration, and a fair distribution of rewards. A world where innovation blossomed, unchained from the shackles of outdated legal frameworks.

Copyright listened intently, his facade of certainty beginning to crack. He recognized the flaws in his own arguments, the growing irrelevance of his outdated methods.

The judge, a wise and impartial figure, surveyed the scene. As the arguments unfolded, a stark contrast emerged. Outside, a chorus of voices chanted slogans, their fervor driven by unseen forces. Within the courtroom, however, the reaction was different. Attendees, having listened intently to both sides, began to exchange thoughtful glances. ABE’s passionate arguments resonated with them, sparking a quiet fire of understanding.

But a dissonant hum pierced the courtroom’s tense silence. Outside, some voices chanted louder than before, their words carried through the thick walls. Corporate lobbyists, well-compensated and fervent, pushed their agenda. The judge’s gaze was drawn towards the unseen crowd, a flicker of uncertainty clouding their previously unwavering stance.

ABE faltered, her voice losing its strength, and in the courtroom, a palpable fear took root. Will the judge crumble under the pressure of vested interests? Who will stand with ABE, who will stand with the promise of a new era?

The muffled chanting was met only with silence as ABE attempted to recover her balance. Then, a ripple started amongst the courtroom attendees. Suddenly, a lone voice in the back erupted, “Attribution, not ownership!” The room held its breath. Then, another voice joined in, and another, until a chorus of impassioned voices filled the courtroom, echoing ABE’s rallying cry.

ABE, her flagging courage replaced by a fierce determination, met the judge’s gaze. The judge, visibly irritated, slammed their gavel. “Order in the court!” The chanting gradually subsided, but the energy in the room remained electric. The attendees, their eyes locked on the judge, understood the weight of the moment.

The judge recovered their stoic composure and absorbed the arguments. They knew the verdict they were about to deliver could have far-reaching consequences. The fate of software development, the very foundation of the digital age, hung in the balance.

As the gavel fell, silence descended upon the courtroom. The judge spoke, their words echoing through the halls of justice: “The court finds in favor of Attribution-Based Economics. The age of copyright is over. A new era of open access and shared creation has begun.”

A wave of relief and excitement rippled through the courtroom. Developers, creators, and users alike rejoiced, knowing that a new dawn had arrived. The future of software development was bright, and it belonged to no one.