Rejoice! It's finally not illegal to rip CDs

The Hargreaves review finally makes UK copyright law suitable for 1998.

The government has announced that it will be implementing the majority of copyright reforms contained in the Hargreaves Review, the commission which reported last year with recommendations for how to bring the UK's intellectual property regime up-to-date.

The top-line change is that the UK will finally gain a format-shifting exemption, meaning that it will no longer be illegal to copy music from a CD to an iPhone (yes, it is technically illegal still) – just in time for the switch to digital purchases to really take-off, of course. But better late than never.

This format-shifting exemption is much more limited than it sounds, however, since breaking digital rights management (DRM) will remain illegal. This is a trick that content producers in the United States, where format shifting has always been legal, have used to get around those laws. DRM is the technology which prevents consumers from copying DVDs, Blu-rays, or most legally downloaded movies.

But much of that copy-protection is just a token lock designed to bring the content under the protection of the law. The system which protects DVDs, for instance, was broken over thirteen years ago; despite this, it remains illegal to transfer movies from DVDs onto computers, a fact which almost certainly retarded technological progression by rendering it impossible for a video equivalent of the iPod to make economic sense.

There is a silver lining, however; if DRM is preventing you from exercising legal rights, you will have the right to complain to the Secretary of State about it. The implication is that they may then decide to grant an exemption, but the BIS spokesperson refused to confirm that that was the case.

Other changes are more useful. The government is planning to introduce a parody exemption, which would allow stuff like the fantastic Newport State of Mind to carry on existing, rather than being taken down over copyright infringement.

The changes also allow far greater flexibility for education, quotation, research and analysis, and grant people with disabilities "the right to obtain copyright works in accessible formats" when there isn't already one available on the market.

Vince Cable said:

Making the intellectual property framework fit for the 21st century is not only common sense but good business sense. Bringing the law into line with ordinary people’s reasonable expectations will boost respect for copyright, on which our creative industries rely.

The Coalition for a Digital Economy, which was founded in response to the last government's disastrous Digital Economy Act, supported the changes, saying:

We are delighted that the Government has now announced their plans for modernising copyright. These measures will help to provide certainty for digital entrepreneurs working with copyright and rights holders alike. The report comes after an exhaustive 16 month period of consultation and the strength of the argument for reform shines through.

These reforms are clearly an improvement on the law as it stands, but they remain mere incremental improvements. Without addressing the questions at the heart of copyright and intellectual property – chiefly, whether the protections exist to encourage the production of copyrighted works, or to allow the owners of copyrighted works to extract as much value a possible from them – then there will remain problems with the implementation.

And while the changes are more friendly to digital industries than much legislation which affects them, the continued overprotection in a number of areas doesn't do a whole lot to disabuse the notion that the entertainment industry has too much power in this field. Where's the clarification about whether or not you can sell downloads second-hand? And isn't it time consumers were given some rights above and beyond the standard "permanent license which can be revoked at any time" that digital stores offer, despite using the language of buying and selling?

Nonetheless, the implementation of Hargreaves recommendations is to be welcomed. I might just shift some formats to celebrate.

Photograph: Getty Images

Alex Hern is a technology reporter for the Guardian. He was formerly staff writer at the New Statesman. You should follow Alex on Twitter.

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The decline of the north's sporting powerhouse

Yorkshire historically acted as a counterweight to the dominance of southern elites, in sport as in politics and culture. Now, things are different.

On a drive between Sheffield and Barnsley, I spotted a striking painting of the Kes poster. Billy Casper’s two-fingered salute covered the wall of a once-popular pub that is now boarded up.

It is almost 50 years since the late Barry Hines wrote A Kestrel for a Knave, the novel that inspired Ken Loach’s 1969 film, and it seems that the defiant, us-against-the-world, stick-it-to-the-man Yorkshireness he commemorated still resonates here. Almost two-thirds of the people of south Yorkshire voted to leave the EU, flicking two fingers up at what they saw as a London-based establishment, detached from life beyond the capital.

But whatever happened to Billy the unlikely lad, and the myriad other northern characters who were once the stars of stage and screen? Like the pitheads that dominated Casper’s tightly knit neighbourhood, they have disappeared from the landscape. The rot set in during the 1980s, when industries were destroyed and communities collapsed, a point eloquently made in Melvyn Bragg’s excellent radio series The Matter of the North.

Yorkshire historically acted as a counterweight to the dominance of southern elites, in sport as in politics and culture. Yet today, we rarely get to hear the voices of Barnsley, Sheffield, Doncaster and Rotherham. And the Yorkshire sporting powerhouse is no more – at least, not as we once knew it.

This should be a matter of national concern. The White Rose county is, after all, the home of the world’s oldest registered football club – Sheffield FC, formed in 1857 – and the first English team to win three successive League titles, Huddersfield Town, in the mid-1920s. Hull City are now Yorkshire’s lone representative in the Premier League.

Howard Wilkinson, the manager of Leeds United when they were crowned champions in 1992, the season before the Premier League was founded, lamented the passing of a less money-obsessed era. “My dad worked at Orgreave,” he said, “the scene of Mrs Thatcher’s greatest hour, bless her. You paid for putting an axe through what is a very strong culture of community and joint responsibility.”

The best-known scene in Loach’s film shows a football match in which Mr Sugden, the PE teacher, played by Brian Glover, comically assumes the role of Bobby Charlton. It was played out on the muddy school fields of Barnsley’s run-down Athersley estate. On a visit to his alma mater a few years ago, David Bradley, who played the scrawny 15-year-old Billy, showed me the goalposts that he had swung from as a reluctant goalkeeper. “You can still see the dint in the crossbar,” he said. When I spoke to him recently, Bradley enthused about his lifelong support for Barnsley FC. “But I’ve not been to the ground over the last season and a half,” he said. “I can’t afford it.”

Bradley is not alone. Many long-standing fans have been priced out. Barnsley is only a Championship side, but for their home encounter with Newcastle last October, their fans had to pay £30 for a ticket.

The English game is rooted in the northern, working-class communities that have borne the brunt of austerity over the past six years. The top leagues – like the EU – are perceived to be out of touch and skewed in favour of the moneyed elites.

Bradley, an ardent Remainer, despaired after the Brexit vote. “They did not know what they were doing. But I can understand why. There’s still a lot of neglect, a lot of deprivation in parts of Barnsley. They feel left behind because they have been left behind.”

It is true that there has been a feel-good factor in Yorkshire following the Rio Olympics; if the county were a country, it would have finished 17th in the international medals table. Yet while millions have been invested in “podium-level athletes”, in the team games that are most relevant to the lives of most Yorkshire folk – football, cricket and rugby league – there is a clear division between sport’s elites and its grass roots. While lucrative TV deals have enriched ruling bodies and top clubs, there has been a large decrease in the number of adults playing any sport in the four years since London staged the Games.

According to figures from Sport England, there are now 67,000 fewer people in Yorkshire involved in sport than there were in 2012. In Doncaster, to take a typical post-industrial White Rose town, there has been a 13 per cent drop in participation – compared with a 0.4 per cent decline nationally.

Attendances at rugby league, the region’s “national sport”, are falling. But cricket, in theory, is thriving, with Yorkshire winning the County Championship in 2014 and 2015. Yet Joe Root, the batsman and poster boy for this renaissance, plays far more games for his country than for his county and was rested from Yorkshire’s 2016 title decider against Middlesex.

“Root’s almost not a Yorkshire player nowadays,” said Stuart Rayner, whose book The War of the White Roses chronicles the club’s fortunes between 1968 and 1986. As a fan back then, I frequently watched Geoffrey Boycott and other local stars at Headingley. My favourite was the England bowler Chris Old, a gritty, defiant, unsung anti-hero in the Billy Casper mould.

When Old made his debut, 13 of the 17-strong Yorkshire squad were registered as working-class professionals. Half a century later, three of the five Yorkshiremen selec­ted for the last Ashes series – Root, Jonny Bairstow and Gary Ballance – were privately educated. “The game of cricket now is played in public schools,” Old told me. “Top players are getting huge amounts of money, but the grass-roots game doesn’t seem to have benefited in any way.”

“In ten years’ time you won’t get a Joe Root,” Rayner said. “If you haven’t seen these top Yorkshire cricketers playing in your backyard and you haven’t got Sky, it will be difficult to get the whole cricket bug. So where is the next generation of Roots going to come from?” Or the next generation of Jessica Ennis-Hills? Three years ago, the Sheffield stadium where she trained and first discovered athletics was closed after cuts to local services.

This article first appeared in the 19 January 2017 issue of the New Statesman, The Trump era