Who Owns An "Idea" Anyway?
It’s been said that ours is a business in which “the idea is king.” As such, millions are paid for ideas, battles are fought over the possession of ideas, and first writers and rewriters bludgeon each other over the precedence and prominence of ideas.
Perhaps we can put some of those struggles behind us with a simple understanding of a basic tenet of intellectual property: no one actually owns an idea.
No One Can Own An Idea
U.S. copyright law is fairly clear on this matter.
Still, before we start talking about what we cannot own, let’s see what the U.S. Copyright Office says copyright does protect, i.e. what is considered ownable intellectual property.
Copyright protects “original works of authorship” that are fixed in a tangible form of expression.
Fair enough. The “fixed” part is easy enough to understand. The work has to be permanent in some regard, or there’s nothing tangible to own. Written words qualify as “fixed form.”
Therefore, if you jot out or type up an idea, isn’t that an original work of authorship in fixed form? What’s wrong with suggesting that Walt Disney Pictures, having purchased the copyright to The Sixth Sense, owns the following?:
A psychologist must uncover the secret of a child who claims to see ghosts.
Well, turns out that “original work of authorship” and “idea” are sort of mutually exclusive in copyright. The statutes state that:
In no case does copyright protection for an original work of authorship extend to any idea, procedure, process, system, method of operation, concept, principle, or discovery, regardless of the form in which it is described, explained, illustrated, or embodied in such work.
Ouch. “In no case.” None. Therefore, the crucial question for those of us who work in the so-called “idea” business is simply this: when does an idea cross the magical line and become an original work of authorship?
Why so crucial?
Consider the following syllogism.
- Our screen credits are granted for authorship as if we still held copyright.
- Authorship only has practical meaning when considered an attribute of copyrightable intellectual property.
- Ideas are not intellectual property. Ergo…
- There ought to be no credit granted for the idea of the movie.
The truth is that M. Night Shyamalan has no more of a legal claim to the above idea than I.
As such, chronology and access become completely irrelevant when discussing an idea. It doesn’t matter who had the idea first. No one ever had the idea in the first place.
Turning to economic ramifications, it becomes clear that “professional writing” (and in Shyamalan’s case “writing worth paying millions for”) is literally the process that either comes after or is created beyond the basic idea.
So, consider this: the producer who brings a logline to you and then suggests down the line that he is a participating writer who has contributed the idea…the very essence of the movie!…is actually demanding credit for something as uncreditable as air or sunlight.
Now that I’ve beaten the tar out of the Almighty Idea, my next article will attempt to answer our crucial question: when is something more than just an idea?
But isn’t there a moral duty to let others’ ideas alone?
I remember I once read in some how-to screenwriting book a tip; to take a familiar idea and put it in a new setting. She gave as an example that an alchemist had to save the world from an alien invasion - in the Middle Ages.
I thought what an utterly BRILLIANT idea for a film - I could just see the sci-fi/mediaeval images juxtaposing - and completely wanted to rip her off and write it, but of course I’d never do that.
Wish she would write it, though. I’d love to see that film!
I don’t think there’s a moral duty to let others’ ideas alone. First, they’re not “others’,” as we understand the word. Secondly, I like watching new interpretations of ideas.
For instance, Leone’s Western versions of Kurosawa’s ideas. Or George Lucas’ versions of Kurosawa’s ideas.
Let’s not forget, most of these stories are versions of prior stories. The Lion, The Witch & The Wardrobe certainly borrows heavily from the idea of the New Testament.
Sure, I wouldn’t reproduce a friend’s idea—until, that is, they either gave up, or got their movie made.