But this impulse is essential to the very creation myth of the Internet, from the early days of idealistic hackers and academics who saw it as a great open digital commons. And even now, the free software movement, which believes in sharing and building on code instead of profiteering, has provided the kernel for much of this largesse. As they see it, money is not the only thing — the desire for recognition and reputation, the urge to share what you’re passionate about, are also powerful drivers of our behaviour.

In many ways, the Internet unexpectedly granted a long-held countercultural dream. For instance, back in the sixties, an anarchist artistic movement called the Situationists tried to live this heady philosophy. Abbie Hoffman, leading figure of the movement, wrote a playful, provocative book called Steal This Book outlining an entire philosophy that rejected commodity culture, idealising the tribal ‘gift economy’.

The scope and scale of the Web, along with this surrounding culture of sharing and collaboration collides dramatically with the ka ching! of the entertainment industry, which results in the familiar panic attacks over digital piracy.

The free culture answer to this would be that ideas and creative works aren’t exactly private property — they don’t spontaneously spring from between the brows of an artist alone. Artistic and intellectual achievements build on the past, borrow, pick and mix, from a broth of influences. And a copyright regime that clamps down on content as the author’s sole property and views all sharing and remixing as theft ultimately impedes the free flow of ideas.

... contd.