Is DRM Really CRAP?

Some time ago I emailed Cory Doctorow at Boing Boing and suggested an Internet movement to (pardon the marketing-speak) re-purpose the acronym DRM from its presently understood, copyright-monopolist definition of "Digital Rights Management" to the more appropriate, consumer-oriented "Defective Retail Merchandise." He referred me to David Berlind, an editor at ZDNet, who was working on just such a project. Berlind mentioned my idea in a blog entry but thought something catchier was needed. He ultimately chose the new acronym CRAP -- for "Content Restriction, Annulment, and Protection" -- which he explains in this video.

Flushing a Common Culture Down the Toilet?

Berlind's description of CRAP is fine as far as it goes, but it really only touches ever-so-slightly on the reason why the proliferation of DRM-laden media and devices is a problem. As I and others have written, this problem goes far beyond mere inconvenience and even consumer fraud. Proliferation of DRM and laws to enforce its use will lead eventually to what Lawrence Lessig calls a "permission culture" that stifles or even punishes non-approved forms of creativity. It's the sort of "culture" that would accept and allow, to take one ludicrous example, the Donald Trumps of the world to trademark certain uses of "You're fired," as if no one prior to the existence of his stupid TV show ever used those words.

I call this sort of behavior "corporate pissing" because it reminds me of the way dogs pee on existing objects to assert their territory. My feeling is that dogs can pee on whatever they want -- they are dogs after all -- but it still doesn't mean they own anything they piss on.

But DRM is an attempt to leave the pee stains of the alleged "owners" all over things that people have already paid money for in the quite reasonable belief that they thereby become the owners of what they have purchased.

What Is This CRAP?

I'm sympathetic to the concerns Berlind raises about sticking with the DRM acronym. But I don't think I like CRAP for a few reasons:

It's rather infantile. I know, that sounds rich coming from someone who just compared trademark claims to dogs urinating. But I worry that the silliness of the acronym belies the seriousness of that which it is attempting to describe.

It's easily mistaken for the actual word. Berlind writes, "People will want to know what you mean when you say 'No, really, the technology in there is CRAP.'" Will they, though? They can't see the caps in your voice. It seems more likely people will just think you mean it's, well, crap and leave it at that. (If you said "It's DRMed," however, might they not want to know what that meant?)

The words behind it are lacking. Content? What if you're speaking of a device with DRM technology embedded in it? Annulment? The first thing that comes to mind is "Catholic divorce" (not an accurate description of Catholic doctrine on annulments, but that's another blog entry). Will anyone relate that rather uncommon and legalistic-sounding word to the media or device they've purchased? Protection? I have a problem with the way this word is used in relation to these issues. This quote from Richard Stallman gets at why it bothers me: "Describing [DRM] as 'copyright protection' puts a favorable spin on a mechanism intended to deny the public the exercise of those rights which copyright law has not yet denied them."

Stuck with DRM for Now

When I worked in communications in the public policy world, I expressed frustration at sometimes having to use politically loaded terms that folks with an ideological axe to grind developed to describe the beliefs, trends, behaviors, groups, laws, etc. that they opposed (and sometimes, though not always, that we advocated). The reason was that sometimes the politically loaded term was already established in the public mind and to coin a new, alternative term would mean only confusing people. As my boss used to say, "They got there first."

I think it might be either too late or too early to try to replace DRM with another term. Too late because a lot of people are using "DRM" and will continue to do so. Too early because it's true most of those people are technoweenies with a specialized interest, vs. members of the general public. (However, I should note I'm familiar with the term and I'm not exactly a tech savvy dude. Heck, I don't even have an iPod.)

Once more and more DRMed products make their way into the market and Joe Consumer realizes he's been had when he "bought" that new song or media player or whatever, he'll want answers. That's when the technoweenies will need to be ready with a snappy, quick, easy-to-understand explanation that places the blame squarely where it belongs.

I don't know what the answer is for now. Berlind might be right in the long run. Or he might not. As with so many other things in life, only time will tell.

I Hope They Stock Thunderbird

I noticed* a big spiffy new vertical sign for "Vinology" on the long-under-construction Mayer-Schairer building whilst I was strolling down Main St. today on my way to get my ears lowered. Upon returning home, I did a little research (thanks, Google) and discovered:

1. It's going to be a restaurant, wine bar, and wine retailer -- 8,000 square feet of winos wine connoisseurs!
   
   
2. It's a partnership between Kristin Jonna, daughter of the Merchant of Vino's founder, and Jon Carlson, the guy responsible for Grizzly Peak's existence, and some other "unnamed" partners. Wine mafia?
   
   
3. I'd still rather drink beer.

I also noticed some construction that closed off the sidewalk by Conor O'Neill's and the Ark, but I can't guess what that's about.

* Big announcement: I finally broke down and ordered a digital camera, which means next time I see something newsworthy I can, you know, actually include a photo with my breaking story. Also it heralds the long-overdue return of the wildly popular Ann Arbor Photo of the Week feature. Oh yeah!

Get Your Zombie On

I accidentally stumbled across this page.

Arrested Development

The "crunchy conservative" blog last week was discussing suburban sprawl, ugly subdivisions, chainification, and related issues near and dear to my downtown-dwelling heart. Bruce Frohnen, a professor at Ave Maria School of Law here in Ann Arbor, addressed why we keep seeing boring, soulless, butt-ugly development:

And it isn't because the free market demands it. Far from it. Only a few cities do not have zoning laws, and almost all those that do make real towns, with main streets of shops that have apartments/condos above them, spiraling out through townhouses and neighborhoods with businesses mixed in, illegal.

He concludes:

It's actually a fairly clear problem with a fairly clear solution, but first people have to admit that a few big developers do not a free market make, and that we need to change the laws so that entrepreneurs and communities can come together to make something decent for all of us.

I don't really understand the point of zoning laws. Ann Arbor is zoned out the yin-yang, and yet that fails to prevent a perfectly good old building from being razed to make way for a nine-story tower of yuppies to be plopped down in an old, established neighborhood where no existing building is higher than two stories. If zoning laws aren't about preserving the integrity of a community, what are they for? (I realize this is probably an extremely naive question.)

And Rod Dreher quoting an emailer on the subject of dying downtowns really caught my attention:

Downtowns are dead or dying all over the country, and have been for over a generation...

Go to any county se[a]t in any county, and the downtown is the courthouse, banks, lawyers' offices, and the town newspaper office. This provides the unholy alliance to "revitalize" downtown...

The symbol for smalltown decline — a karate studio on Main Street. As soon as a karate studio moves into an old furniture store or clothing [s]hop, throw dirt over your downtown, because it is dead, dead, dead.

Dreher says his correspondent is "Dave from Georgia," but it sounds to me like this guy must live in Ann Arbor. Courthouse? Check. Banks? Check. Lawyers' offices? Check. Town newspaper? Check. Karate on Main Street? Seriously, this guy is in Georgia?

Lost Weekend

So here it is, another Sunday and me wondering where the whole weekend went. Things seem to go pretty quickly when you start drinking Friday at 9 in the morning. Like, you find out you're completely fucked up by 8pm. Especially after the ill-advised Dogfish Head 120 Minute IPA at Ashley's. Then there's the inevitable but too-late food binge at the Fleetwood, followed by the stumble home and the obligatory 12-hour sleep-off. Next morning/afternoon, it's the many hours of waiting for the headache to go away so you have the gumption to shower and get dressed. To go to a keg party.

Lather, rinse, repeat.

Neo-Noir Done Right

Woody Allen is finally back. In Match Point, his latest, which I finally saw at the State Theatre last night, he leaves behind his usual New York City locale for Merrie Olde England with results that are really quite smashing, old chap.

It's hardly a secret, even to his most die-hard fans, that Woody Allen has been on autopilot for many years. The neurotic New York shtick has gone from stale to actively rotting, his bumbling on-screen persona from tedious to downright irritating. It's his switch from the (overly) familiar that helps make Match Point seem much fresher.

But is it a new or original story? Not really. Thematically, it echoes an earlier Woody film, the underappreciated Crimes and Misdemeanors. Plotwise, it ironically (being set in London) owes a lot to Dreiser's An American Tragedy, by way of its best cinematic treatment, A Place in the Sun. I won't go into the story, since you can get details by following any of these links and also because the less you know going in, the more you will likely enjoy it. It takes a while to unfold, and there are many intriguing twists and turns.

The movie's not without flaws (I suspect Brits in particular would pick up on various inaccuracies that are largely irrelevant to the American viewer) and plot holes (there's one gaping one that bugs me in particular that no one else seems to have paid much attention to). But this film, coupled with the promising (though ultimately only slightly above average) Melinda and Melinda, is enough to make me believe old Woody isn't done quite yet. Especially if he continues to wisely eschew the "comedy" that stopped being funny a long time ago.

Also, in fairness, I would be remiss if I failed to mention that the mostly British cast were uniformly excellent.

And if my recommendation's not enough to convince you Match Point's worth watching, here are four words that might: Scarlett Johansson, wet blouse.

Atlantis Revisited

Popular Mechanics undertakes a debunking of Katrina-related myths. Meanwhile, Elizabeth Kolbert, in a recent New Yorker article (not available online, but a guy talks about and quotes from it here), investigates the ongoing disappearance of southern Louisiana as it's swallowed by the Gulf of Mexico.

Maybe I need to rethink my retirement plans.

Ned Flanders Literature

The endings of Tess of the D'Urbervilles, 1984, Wuthering Heights, and other classics are too depressing for many readers, so Ben Macintyre of the London Times proposes some changes. Note: satire.

Reading List Book Report, Vol. I

I've gotten through the first two books on my reading list, Interpreter of Maladies by Jhumpa Lahiri and The Lone Surfer of Montana, Kansas by Davy Rothbart. Here's my quick two cents.

Interpreter was a brilliant collection, well deserving of the Pulitzer Prize it won. Each of the nine stories is deceptively dense; they all read easily yet are intricately plotted. It's the best kind of writing: so carefully layered as to appear effortless. All the stories were good, but my favorites were the title story, "Sexy" (very awesome), and "Mrs. Sen's."

Lone Surfer I wanted to like, and it was all right, but coming after Lahiri's book it left me rather unsatisfied. Rothbart has talent, but most of his efforts read like anecdotes rather than stories. In particular, more than a few of the eight entries in the book seemed to just end abruptly, as if he got tired of writing. If I had to pick favorites, I'd go with "Lie Big," "Elena," and the title story, even though it had a rotten ending.

I'm about one-third of the way through the next book, the novel No Place, Louisiana by Martin Pousson, and I'll be back with another in-depth three-sentence review when I've finished it.

Crunchy Conservatism

First of all, I'm not fond of the term. But when journalist Rod Dreher first wrote about "crunchy conservatives" -- or the more clever "Birkenstocked Burkeans" -- back in 2002, I appreciated his article so much I sent off an email straight away congratulating him on it. Later, I used that original article in this blog as a jumping-off point for talking about and attempting to understand my own sociopolitical beliefs and attitudes (permalinked in the righthand column as "Straight, No Chaser: Who's Dave?").

Now Dreher has fleshed out his ideas in a new full-length book that I happened across while at a Borders in San Diego. Without having read it yet, I'd wager that its longwinded, ridiculous title, Crunchy Cons: How Birkenstocked Burkeans, gun-loving organic gardeners, evangelical free-range farmers, hip homeschooling mamas, right-wing nature lovers, and their diverse tribe of countercultrual conservatives plan to save America (or at least the Republican Party), belies the timely and worthy questions it raises not just about political alignments but also about the larger questions of living a spiritually satisfying life in the relentless face of soul-deadening modernity.

Indeed, I'd guess the book's absurd subtitle was written, or at least heavily influenced by, marketing dorks at Random House because my understanding is that Dreher, like Russell Kirk before him, is attempting to define a particular sensibility, not offer a political program to "save" America, Republicans, the universe, or whatever. That kind of thinking is generally antithetical to what's understood as the conversative tradition.

What's Old Is New Again

Anyway, what is a crunchy conservative? Again in the vein of Kirk, who in his seminal work The Conservative Mind, identified and described six canons (later expanded to 10 principles) of conservative thought, Dreher posits a nine-point manifesto as follows:

1. We are conservatives who stand outside the conservative mainstream; therefore, we can see things that matter more clearly.
   
   
2. Modern conservatism has become too focused on money, power, and the accumulation of stuff, and insufficiently concerned with the content of our individual and social character.
   
   
3. Big business deserves as much skepticism as big government.
   
   
4. Culture is more important than politics and economics.
   
   
5. A conservatism that does not practice restraint, humility, and good stewardship—especially of the natural world—is not fundamentally conservative.
   
   
6. Small, Local, Old, and Particular are almost always better than Big, Global, New, and Abstract.
   
   
7. Beauty is more important than efficiency.
   
   
8. The relentlessness of media-driven pop culture deadens our senses to authentic truth, beauty, and wisdom.
   
   
9. We share Russell Kirk's conviction that "the institution most essential to conserve is the family."

I immediately and enthusiastically agree with a number of these points, and suspect I'll be sympathetic to some of the vaguer-sounding ones once I'm able to actually read the book. This notion of countercultural conservatives reminds me of what Chesterton wrote: "The act of defending any of the cardinal virtues has today all the exhilaration of a vice."

Crunchy Con-troversy

National Review Online has set up a blog for Dreher, its editors, and others to debate and discuss the book. Already, Jonah Goldberg is stamping his foot and saying the sensibility Dreher is trying to identify and describe doesn't actually exist because... well, I don't know, because it would be at odds with contemporary Republican politics, Bushian policy, and the National Review party line. That's what his objections sound like to me, anyway.

Thanks, Jonah, but I'll make up my own mind. In the meantime, here's a review of the book on OpinionJournal.com by George Nash, an astute gentleman I was fortunate enough to once meet and talk with about his book, The Conservative Intellectual Movement in America Since 1945. I'll post my own impressions once I have a chance to read Dreher's opus.

Update 3/2: Jonah Goldberg has posted a (much) longer version of his objections, including his wish to read Rod Dreher out of the conservative movement.