Pity poor Cliff

Some surprising people are standing shoulder-to-shoulder with the record industry

It’s hard to feel sorry for Sirs Cliff Richard and Paul McCartney, and very easy to dismiss the call this week for copyright on music recordings to be extended from 50 years to 95 or even 'life plus 70 years'. The poor things have been at it for so long that their early recordings are starting to fall out of copyright, which means they will soon begin to miss out on some royalties.

I have blogged about this issue before, in connection with internet file-sharing, and come out firmly in favour of keeping the law as it is or, ideally, reducing the term to as little as 10 years. In my view it is only a good thing that classic recordings from the early days of rock and soul will soon be free to be reissued or remixed by anyone who appreciates them.

A campaign led by the record industry last autumn, in which they placed a full-page advert in the Financial Times naming 4,500 artists who supported an extension, seemed to have failed when the Treasury's independent Gowers Review was published in December and recommended keeping the status quo.

That seemed to have settled the issue, but now the campaign has hotted up again. It’s good to see intellectual property law moving up the political agenda, but many elected representatives seem to be joining the wrong side, teaming up with the record industry against the interests of the public.

Emotively citing the plight of the widow of Lonnie Donegan, whose recordings from the 1950s will soon stop paying her what amounts to a small pension, MP Michael Connarty has tabled an Early Day Motion in Parliament which has attracted 77 signatures so far, including some surprising names such as Jeremy Corbyn, John McDonnell and Dennis Skinner.

How come these defenders of the common man are lining up to help add a few zeros to Sir Cliff's future pay cheques? I wouldn’t for a minute suggest that these sane and sensible public figures had been influenced by the free CD of golden oldies sent to MPs by Phonographic Performance Limited, who collect royalties on behalf of record companies. They do, however, seem to have fallen for the image of the artist struggling in old age, living on royalties from recordings of their youth.

The House of Commons Culture Committee has also come to a similar conclusion, citing the fact that 7,000 musicians will lose royalties from recordings made in the 50s and 60s over the next decade and saying “Given the strength and importance of the creative industries in the UK, it seems extraordinary that the protection of intellectual property rights should be weaker here than in many other countries where creative industries are less successful.”

Think again about that statement. We have a stronger creative industry than countries with fiercer copyright laws. What then is their argument for an extension? The Gowers Review in fact concluded that if works were protected for longer, not only consumers but also ‘follow-on creators’ would be disadvantaged. It said, “the estates and heirs of performers would potentially be able to block usage rights, which may affect future creativity and innovation… Thus extending term may have negative implications for all creators.”

There is also plenty of evidence that the people who really gain from long copyright terms aren’t artists and performers at all but the record companies leading the campaign for more control. The Open Rights Group, who are opposed to the abuse of digital rights and campaign for copyright reform and greater access to knowledge, has detailed how most innovation in the UK music scene comes from independent labels that are not dependent on long-ago hits, and that only a tiny minority of artists receive the bulk of royalties. Less than half a percent of artists receive anything that could be called a ‘pension’ and most receive nothing at all beyond their original advance. In reality, it is only the record companies who are making money, as they take their accumulated share of royalty payments from the large catalogues they control.

Record companies love being able to reissue the same set of recordings in 'new' combinations, as it brings profits for very little investment. But it is still only a small minority of past hits that benefit from this. Hackneyed old floor-fillers require much less promotion to bring a return than either lesser known re-releases or new talent. New artists in particular need everything from risky tours to high-cost videos to make their name, so why not cut the creativity and milk another 15 years out of their back catalogues. Why not? Because the public have paid for these recordings many times over, and it would be much better for our music industry if it was forced to find new artists to turn a profit.

I think this campaign sounds like a stuck record. The post-cassette era has been well-established for decades now and the internet has changed irrevocably most people’s attitudes to what is reasonable to copy, mix up and share. The rest of us need to start writing to our confused, out of touch MPs and point out that this debate should have ended a long time ago.

Sian Berry lives in Kentish Town and was previously a principal speaker and campaigns co-ordinator for the Green Party. She was also their London mayoral candidate in 2008. She works as a writer and is a founder of the Alliance Against Urban 4x4s
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How “cli-fi” novels humanise the science of climate change

The paradox is that the harder climate-fiction novels try, the less effective they are.

When the Paris UN Climate Change Conference begins at the end of November, the world’s leaders will review the climate framework agreed in Rio in 1992. For well over 20 years, the world has not just been thinking and talking about climate change, it has also been writing and reading about it, in blogs, newspapers, magazines – and in novels.

Climate change fiction is now a recognisable literary phenomenon replete with its own nickname: “cli-fi”. The term was coined in 2007 by Taiwan-based blogger Dan Bloom. Since then, its use has spread: it was even tweeted by Margaret Atwood in 2013:

It is not a genre in the accepted scholarly sense, since it lacks the plot formulas or stylistic conventions that tend to define genres (such as science fiction or the western). However, it does name a remarkable recent literary and publishing trend.

A 21st-century phenomenon?

Putting a number to this phenomenon depends, partly, on how one defines cli-fi. How much of a novel has to be devoted to climate change before it is considered cli-fi? Should we restrict the term to novels about man-made global warming? (If we don’t, we should remember that narratives about global climatic change are as old as The Epic of Gilgamesh and the Biblical story of the flood.) If we define cli-fi as fictional treatments of climate change caused by human activity in terms of setting, theme or plot – and accept there will be grey areas in the extent of this treatment – a conservative estimate would put the all-time number of cli-fi novels at 150 and growing. This is the figure put forward by Adam Trexler, who has worked with me to survey the development of cli-fi.

This definition also gives us a start date for cli-fi’s history. While planetary climatic change occurs in much 20th-century science fiction, it is only after growing scientific awareness of specifically man-made, carbon-induced climate change in the 1960s and 1970s that novels on this subject emerged. The first is Arthur Herzog’s Heat in 1976, followed by George Turner’s The Sun and the Summer (published in the US as Drowning Towers) in 1987.

At the turn of this century, Maggie Gee and TC Boyle were among the first mainstream authors to publish climate change novels. In this century, we can count Atwood, Michael Crichton, Barbara Kingsolver, Ian McEwan, Kim Stanley Robinson, Ilija Trojanow and Jeanette Winterson as major authors who have written about climate change. The past five years have given us notable examples of cli-fi by emerging authors, such as Steven Amsterdam, Edan Lepucki, Jane Rawson, Nathaniel Rich and Antti Tuomainen.

Creative challenges

Cli-fi is all the more noteworthy considering the creative challenge posed by climate change. First, there is the problem of scale – spatial and temporal. Climate change affects the entire planet and all its species – and concerns the end of this planet as we know it. Novels, by contrast, conventionally concern the actions of individual protagonists and/or, sometimes, small communities.

Added to this is the networked nature of climate change: in physical terms, the climate is a large, complex system whose effects are difficult to model. In socio-cultural terms, solutions require intergovernmental agreement – just what COP21 intends – and various top-down and bottom-up transformations. Finally, there exists the difficulty of translating scientific information, with all its predictive uncertainty, into something both accurate and interesting to the average reader.

Still, cli-fi writers have adopted a range of strategies to engage their readers. Many cli-fi novels could be classified as dystopian, post-apocalyptic or, indeed, both – depicting nightmarish societies triggered by sometimes catastrophic climate events. A future world is one effective way of narrating the planetary condition of climate change.

Some novelists are also careful to underpin their scenarios with rigorous climatic predictions and, in this way, translate science fact into a fictional setting. Kingsolver, who trained as an ecologist, is the best example of this – and Atwood and Robinson are also known for their attempts at making their speculations scientifically plausible. Also, cli-fi novels, particularly those set in the present day or very near future rather than in a dystopian future, tend to show the political or psychological dimensions of living with climate change. Readers can identify with protagonists. To some extent, the global community is represented in fictional everymen or everywomen. Or, often, it is through such characters that science is humanised and its role in combating climate change better understood.

Can cli-fi lead to change?

Could cli-fi affect how we think and act on climate change? The paradox is that the harder cli-fi tries, the less effective it is. Many writers want to inspire change, not insist on it: the line between literature and propaganda is one that most novelists respect. Literature invites us to inhabit other worlds and live other lives. Cli-fi at its best lets us travel to climate-changed worlds, to strive there alongside others and then to return armed with that experience.

In Paris, the UN will seek a global agreement on climate action for the first time in more than 20 years. There is plenty of climate change fiction out there to help provide the mental and psychological space to consider that action.

The Conversation

Adeline Johns-Putra, Reader in English Literature, University of Surrey

This article was originally published on The Conversation. Read the original article.