Today I’m honored to share a guest post from longtime friend and inspiration Charles Dunbar. Charles is an academic who writes and speaks on anthropological topics in anime fandom. Like a lot of us, Charles has been thinking considerably about anime’s piracy problem. He decided to weigh in on the discussion taking place on Otaku Journalist recently. It’s a long story, but one I think is very timely and significant.
Talk about piracy and IP protection has been a part of my life for a very long time.
I worked in the music industry from 2000-2009, and was part of both late Napster and the rise of iTunes. I remember the moral and legal debates being thrown around while I sat behind my desk at a music promotions firm, and a lot of the hopeful dialog about how P2P sharing would save the music industry as we knew it.
This was, of course, before all the record stores started closing, thereby ruining my Friday night browsing binges after work, and completely removing any need for me to visit Times Square ever again. Piracy, at least from my standpoint, did eventually save music for the artist, but completely crippled the business model for major labels, and cost me my job when the indie label I worked for moved to California to set up a music placement firm when sales dried up.
Piracy in anime follows a lot of those same lines I was privy to way back when. Fearing lost revenues, companies are downsizing and less willing to take risks. This bothers the fan in me.
Hearing how sales of 1000-3000 box sets is the benchmark for a successful release bothers me as well —1000 was also the benchmark my former label set for a successful album, right before the end. And yet, sometimes, when I’m sitting in on discussions and panels relating to anime and new media, I can’t help but compare the ideas and concerns voiced by both sides in this never-ending debate.
I like to frequently relate a tale of a con long ago, when I witnessed an industry person rip into a fan who downloaded anime. Said fan was stating that he downloaded early episodes to verify that he would like the series, and therefore be more comfortable spending $60-80 on the full release. Rational, if it bit morally gray.
It was an argument I heard quite frequently back in the Napster days. “Why spend upwards of $20 on an album with a single good song and 11 tracks of filler meant to justify it? Downloading was so much easier, cheaper, and instantly gratifying.” That was the argument that ended up spurring on digital singles, and would eventually force bands and labels to seriously scrutinize their product, limit filler tracks, and provide quality albums for a discerning consumer.
It would eventually elevate the quality of the product, and create an entirely new revenue stream. All because people decided to “try before you buy” and make educated, informed purchases. Still morally gray, but even more rational given the state of the current economy. Box sets are far more expensive than albums were, and therefore require more investment, more capital, and often fan’s higher standards of entertainment attached to them. So this would hardly have been considered a “big deal” to the average attendee in the room, probably leaning more toward “better safe than sorry” than a massive violation of IP laws, especially if said fan was using it to screen his future purchases.
But it was the industry rep’s reply that shocked an entire room of people. The rep proceeded to yell at him that he was the problem with anime fans, that he was why anime was dying and companies were closing, that he should buy series regardless of whether he liked them or not to support the industry, and that if he could not afford to, then he should stop watching anime or calling himself a fan.
His reply: “Okay, then I guess I won’t.” And he walked out of the room, muttering under his breath.
The panel essentially ended at that point. The uncomfortable atmosphere sent a lot of people outside very quickly, though a few of us stayed behind to talk with the panelists. The industry rep was still fuming, but some of the staff and attendees were pointing out the flaws in the rep’s reaction. Not the rep’s message, but how it was conveyed:
- Attacking a consumer for exercising caution in making large purchases.
- Blaming the entire mess of piracy and IP violations on a single person.
- Demonizing him for being frugal, despite the fact that he did purchase releases when he could afford to, and being careful about where he spent his money.
- Dictating when and how someone can call themselves a fan, and excluding them for violating said arbitrary “rules.”
It was quickly pointed out that the rep’s reaction likely just cost the industry a customer, who would now choose to stop purchasing entirely because of being singled out and blamed, rather than starting a dialogue on how to better sample series legally. Bear in mind, this was before legal streaming was a thing, before Funimation and Hulu posted entire series for consumers to experience absolutely free, and before fans had multiple ways to discover new shows they might eventually fall in love with.
This fan wasn’t a bootlegger or someone who takes advantage of the community for profit. He was a fan looking to get the most value for his dollar. And he was excoriated for it.
The reason I bring this story up now is because since then a lot has changed with regards to viewing anime legally online. Funimation’s SAVE program has allowed for cost-conscious viewers to acquire series for a fraction of the cost, requiring only a bit of patience in exchange for dollars. Fansubbing still exists, but it is not the only option available. Like Lauren said in her recent post, fans do want to support creators, especially new fans or fans with strong ties to the fandom.
I also bring this up because such antagonistic tendencies might have caused more harm than good. Obviously the industry works hard, and they deserve compensation for their efforts. But at the same time, the old adage of luring flies with honey has an application here—if you attack your consumer base, and blame them for the greater problems with piracy, how often will that fan consider your words and decide to go legit?
Or consider the following: how many consumers who download anime do so simply because they can, and wouldn’t watch the series otherwise? Talk of lost sales and stolen properties can get very muddied at times. Every download does not equal a lost sale, but driving off a consumer because they were verbally berated at a con does.
But what if that industry rep had chosen a different tactic? What if they had addressed the fan’s comment with concern, but also explained how they disagreed and why? What if they started a dialogue with the room, asking about how many people exercised those practices when choosing which shows to watch, then talked about alternative options? That would not only have prevented the uncomfortable fallout, but also kept customers in the fold. We know that one person walked out, but how many others kept silent only to decide it wasn’t worth buying because they did the same thing as well?
I will confess that at the time I also downloaded episodes of prospective series for the same reasons as that one fan did: limited funds, and a desire to make educated purchases. Because I had worked in entertainment for so long, I could see the rep’s point of view and even respect it to a degree. This was their livelihood and the future of their career, so of course they wanted to protect and defend it.
It’s just that the tactic used, and the resulting climate in the room, might have been more dangerous than simply acknowledging the practice and talking about it. Because that one fan was made out to be the enemy, and in return the industry lost a customer.
I’ve been sitting on this story for a long time, mostly out of fear and concern. When I got back to my hotel room following the panel, I actually “walked into” an online discussion about scanlations, and I relayed what I had just witnessed to those on the forum about it. All of them expressed shock and concern that such a heavy-handed approach thrown at the fan, along with some comments about “biting the hand that feeds.” So I wrote this instance down for future reference, and promptly forgot about it.
The main reason is because I have strong positive emotions about fandom and participatory culture. Readers of my own site, and attendees at cons know how much I love this community, and I try my hardest to avoid talking about topics like this. I still am wondering if it was even a good idea to send this to Lauren in the first place, mostly because I don’t like “rocking the piracy boat” when there are so many other topics worth broaching.
But at the same time, I think this is worth at least talking about. Education and dialogue are more effective means of regulating behaviors than antagonization. At least, I would like to think so.
Instances like this are rare, but what cost would it be to the industry if even a single one happened? Serial pirates are unlikely to ever stop what they do, regardless of whether or not they are yelled at. But the average fan, if made to feel like a victim or scapegoat, has the potential to go elsewhere for his passions, which harms everyone involved, from the industry to the fans themselves.
Photo of Charles Dunbar via himself.
