One of the most common responses I get when I try to discuss copyright issues with friends (aside from their eyes glazing over) is what I call the c’mon defense. As in “C’mon, isn’t all this hoo-ha about freedom really just a bunch of pirates trying to keep the copyright cops off their backs?” Or a slightly more nuanced response, like “I understand the idea of ‘fair use’ but, it’s not like we’re headed towards some sort of Orwellian nightmare. I mean, jeez, you guys are acting like the sky is falling or something. C’mon! It’s just a bunch legal mumbo-jumbo that applies mainly to big corporations.”

The c’mon defense is hard to defeat. If you play it too subtly, you risk devolving to the eyes-glazing-over phase, which is insurmountable. If, on the other hand, you start to spin dire tales of crippled cell phones and camcorders, of banned Xerox machines and VCRs, of Big Brother closing all the libraries, then you are going to be quickly spotted as a zealot, and your conversation mate will be thinking more about how to get out of the room than how to respond to your arguments. Either that or he/she will reveal him/herself as the other sort of zealot: “Copyright must be protected at all costs! My employer, Microsoft, told me so!” Now you’re the one looking for the exit.

Even if you manage to play the middle ground and have a reasonable debate, you must constantly be aware of the potential for the c’mon defense to return. “Okay, I see your point about fair use, but c’mon, how are we going to deal with these pirates?”

A lot of copyright activists have noticed that part of the problem is that the deck has always been rhetorically stacked against them: it’s “copyright” against “pirates.” Who can argue against a right? Isn’t protecting our rights the American Way?

Yet try to redefine the terms — use the more accurate “copy restriction,” for example — and now you’re some kind of commie pinko radical. My least favorite term of all in this debate is “intellectual property” — what it describes is nearly always not intellectual and is never property. The idea that someone can “steal” “intellectual property” is not just ridiculous, it’s impossible.

What we really are talking about is not “intellectual property,” it’s rewarding creativity. Imagine how the debate would change if instead of talking about “my” property or “your” property, we talked about how to best to compensate those who create ideas. Isn’t the point of all this for artists, scientists, and inventors to be rewarded for their work? Isn’t creativity the thing we want more of, not “property”?

If we’re discussing how to reward creativity, then deciding whether to extend Disney’s copyright on Mickey Mouse another 20 years becomes a no brainer. That creativity has already been well-compensated. If we want to encourage more creativity, it’d be better served by moving Mickey into the public domain so others can use him in as-yet undreamt ways — just as Disney itself has done with other public domain characters like The Little Mermaid or Aladdin.

This doesn’t mean that all copyright laws should be overturned, just that the reasoning behind them should be approached from the standpoint of rewarding creativity rather than protecting property. Does restricting playback on my TiVo reward creativity? It certainly doesn’t reward the people who created the idea of TiVo, and its benefits to the people who created the TV programs I want to watch are marginal. But if we view the TV programs themselves as “property,” then why shouldn’t the shows’ creators be able to decide what happens to them?

Similarly with the case of Google Print. From a pure copyright perspective, Google Print is wrong — after all, Google is copying entire books without the “owners’” permission. But from the perspective of rewarding creativity, the issue becomes more complex. Google’s idea of indexing all books in print is certainly creative. Others can use Google Print for creative purposes, too — to find ideas that inspire them to create even more. Does it hinder new authors from writing books? Only to the extent that those authors believe that if anyone in the world could read a few sentences of their writing, then they would decide not to buy their books. Google Print doesn’t allow people to read entire books for free — just short snippets. Since people can do this (and more) already, in bookstores, or waiting in line at the grocery store, or at the library, and yet still authors write books, it’s doubtful that Google is doing anything at all to hinder creativity. Google Print is a good idea — just one that may be illegal according to current copyright laws.

The c’mon defense doesn’t work very well against redefining “intellectual property” as “encouraging creativity.” I mean, c’mon! who in their right mind is against encouraging creativity?