We've had many, many debates around here over the question of whether or not "intellectual property" is actually property. So it seems like many of you might enjoy this article, sent in by johnjac, where some attorneys with way too much free time on their hands discuss whether or not superpowers possessed by super heroes should be considered property or not. I will give you just this short snippet as a taste, which I assume will make you rush over to read the whole thing:

If Superman uses the power of a blue sun to bestow superpowers on another person, is that a taxable asset transfer?  Who would want to try to collect?

If two superheroes marry, share a power, then later divorce, could one be forced to give up the power during the division of assets?  Does it matter who had the power originally?  Even though the shared power may be a non-rival good, one of the two superheroes may still have a claim to exclusivity.  Perhaps the power is a trademark ability of one character, or maybe they signed a superhero pre-nuptial agreement that determined the disposition of any shared abilities.

If one superhero lends a power to another (or to a normal person), does that superhero have an implied right to its return?  In other words, is a bailment created?  I think the answer here is yes.

Enjoy.

For years, we've pointed out how rather insidious it is to refer to copyright and patents as "property," as it leads to those who support traditional property rights to default to supporting these government-granted monopoly privileges as if they were property. Stewart Baker, over at the Volokh Conspiracy, does a nice job suggesting that some folks' brains seem to shut off once they see something called "property," even when it has little that makes it "property." He's specifically addressing conservatives and libertarians, but on this debate, I think the traditional labels don't really apply. I've seen liberal/progressives argue on exactly the same lines. For better or for worse, copyright/patent debates don't seem to fall along traditional political lines. Considering that most of the American political spectrum (despite what you might hear...) does believe in basic property rights, calling copyright "property" gets lots of people to agree that it must be important to support, without having them think through the details:

Viewed up close, copyright bears little resemblance to the kinds of property that conservatives value. Instead, it looks like a constantly expanding government program run for the benefit of a noisy, well-organized interest group -- like Superfund, say, or dairy subsidies, except that the benefits go not to endangered homeowners or hardworking farmers but to the likes of Barbra Streisand and Eminem.

It looks like Superfund in other ways, too. Copyright is a trial lawyer's dream -- a regulatory program enforced by private lawsuits where the plaintiffs have all the advantages, from injury-free damages awards to liability doctrines that extract damages from anyone who was in the neighborhood when an infringement occurred. ... It's asbestos litigation for the Internet age.

Conservatives -- and especially libertarians -- seem like a cheap date on this issue. You'd think libertarians would have been in the forefront of objecting to governmental intrusions into our lives at the behest of a special interest -- let alone the creation of a new class of quasicriminals, defined as more or less everyone who entered high school after 1996, who can be investigated and prosecuted whenever the government or some member of industry decides that they are too troublesome.

Where it gets fun is that Baker points out that you could pull the same trick elsewhere, by calling other non-property things property. For example, he tries to explain how property rights supporters could be taught to like the TSA's security procedures if we just noticed the "property rights" inherent in the discussion:

Come to think of it, maybe I can persuade readers here that TSA's new enhanced security measures are just fine -- as long as we enforce the rules by giving all the passengers on the plane a "property" right not to travel with people who refuse body imaging and enhanced patdowns. Instead of relying on oppressive government regulation, we’d just let the passengers collect millions in "statutory damages" from noncompliant travelers.

And that's kind of the point. You can create all kinds of fake "property rights," if you want to distract from what's actually going on. But it doesn't make the underlying issue property.

Lawyer Terry Hart, who we linked to last month for his discussion about whether or not it was okay to call infringement theft has now written another piece arguing that those of us who point out that copyright is not property may also be making a mistake. Specifically, he points to a recent paper by Christopher Newman, which suggests that the problem might be that we don't treat copyright enough like property, and that if we treated it even more like property, many of the problems with copyright law, specifically in the area of derivative works, would be more efficiently handled. In many ways, Newman's paper is quite similar to the argument of Bessen and Meurer in the patent realm. Their research details how much the patent system is hindering innovation, and they chalk up the problem to the fact that patents are not enough like property, in that the boundaries are not clearly defined. Newman appears to take a similar position, with a few more specifics having to do with copyright.

At a first glance, there is definitely something compelling about this argument (in both the patent and copyright realms). The lack of clear boundaries in either is, certainly, part of the problem because it allows the copyright and patent holders to try to expand their ability to exclude well beyond what many people feel is reasonable or economically justifiable. So, the argument goes, if the boundaries could be more properly calibrated, and clearly stated, it would do away with the worst abuses of each system.

In the end, though, I find neither argument convincing. Both are predicated on the idea that property rights, when properly defined with clear boundaries, lead to the more efficient allocation of resources. This is, of course, the fundamental rationale behind economics and property rights. The problem? They leave out an important condition: property rights are about the efficient allocation of resources in the presence of scarcity. The real reason for property rights was to handle the allocation of scarce resources. And, in fact, property rights do a pretty efficient job of that. The problem is that when the resource isn't scarce, allocation is not the problem any more. Putting property rights on non-scarce items doesn't make it more efficient, it makes it less efficient. It's telling, then, that Newman's paper makes no mention of either abundance or scarcity.

That's not to say the analysis provided in both Newman's paper or Bessen and Meurer's book isn't interesting and worth reading, but the fundamental error of not recognizing the different fundamental issues when dealing with scarce goods and abundant goods means that the solutions presented in each seem to be answering the wrong question, set up by a faulty assumption concerning the nature of property rights.

The reason that we point out that copyright and patents should not be considered property is not because we believe, as Hart implies, that thinking that way only papers over the problems of copyright, but that, fundamentally, copyright and property rights serve exceptionally different purposes. Could clearer boundaries improve things at the margin? Perhaps, though I doubt how effective it can really be. But, focusing on property rights as a "solution" is tackling the wrong problem. We don't need more efficient allocation of creativity -- it can already be allocated perfectly efficiently, since you can never run out of a particular (digital) work. So aiming for a better property rights regime, by definition, can only serve to limit that efficient allocation and make it less efficient.

While there was a recent argument being made (weakly) that all property is intellectual property, reader Kerry Kaye recently pointed out a discussion of the opposite point of view, saying that intellectual property is actually a violation of the concept of real property. I have to admit that, while I had hoped to find the article compelling, I actually found it to be lacking in substance. At points it seems to go around in circles without clearly making a point. You could, potentially, make a case that intellectual property tries to limit what you can do directly with the output of your own mind, and that is antithetical to the concept that you have the right to make use of the output of your own brain -- which could violated basic property rights, depending on your definition of property rights. In fact, this is the part that I find most troubling about intellectual property laws (especially patents): that it effectively tells you that even if you come up with something entirely on your own, others can stop you from making use of those ideas.

Perhaps a much more compelling (though, I'm sure not to strong believers in intellectual property) discussion on a similar topic is a recent piece by Vedad Krehic, (pointed out by Michael Scott) that discusses how intellectual property laws turn IP holders against their own customers. In it, he makes a similar, but much clearer argument like the one above:

If a friend, however, lends me a music CD and if I then make a copy, so that I can listen to the music without having to borrow the disc again in the future, nobody is harmed. It is possible that I could, for example, have made an agreement or contract with him when I borrowed the disc stating that I cannot copy it. If I were to do it anyway, I'd be in violation of a private agreement. If not, who is harmed by my act of duplication? I used my own tangible property (CD drive, computer, and hard drive or blank CD) to fashion a duplicate of the data on the CD. The original CD is still my friend's property. I return it to him, and while he is no better or worse off than he was before, I am now better off. The imprint of the music on my tangible property makes that property marginally worth more to me, as I can enjoy its use to a greater extent than previously.

Was anyone harmed at any point here?

Yes -- if you choose to believe the consumer entertainment industry. They claim there was a third party here that was being harmed. Can you see the third party? There was me, and there was my friend. There was my property and that of my friend. I don't see the third party anywhere in that process. I suppose my friend could have been in a contract with the person or organization he purchased the CD from not to copy it, but I wouldn't have been bound by that contract. Either way, I did nothing wrong.

And this is where the trouble comes in for intellectual property versus real property:

Can anyone please explain to me how someone can be a just owner of something, yet not be allowed to exercise his or her ownership rights over it? He can throw rancid tomatoes at the painting, but not duplicate the pattern that makes the painting a painting, rather than just canvas and paint? Or, to use a different type of copyrightable pattern, how can someone own their own brain yet not own the part of it containing a song they memorized?

The logical conclusion is that the natural right of property and the idea of copyright, and of intellectual property in general, are fundamentally incompatible and conflict sharply. You cannot own something and have someone else dictate to you what you can and cannot do with it, without that being an element voluntarily arrived at through contract. In absence of a contract, the dictating party is initiating aggression against the just owner of an item. Intellectual property is an assault on tangible property.

And that's the problem that we keep pointing out around here that troubles us so much. There are many -- especially in copyright debates -- who insist that those who don't agree with copyright law should just avoid supporting those who do. But they ignore how copyright law is used, regularly, to limit what should be fundamental property rights of individuals to do as they please to products they legally purchased.

In fact, Krehic then takes this further, and notes that much of the entertainment industry's troubles today may be traced back to the fact that it has aggressively tried to use copyright law to stop people from doing what they want with their own property, and it's that mistake (which they keep compounding) that has resulted in customers defecting, rather than any issue of "piracy." Again, it's easy to predict that intellectual property supporters will scoff at this and dismiss it as ridiculous, but there is growing evidence to support this position. As we've seen over and over again, content creators who learn to embrace file sharing and the power of new technologies, while connecting with fans, and providing a smarter business model, have been thriving. It's not piracy that's causing harm, it's bad business model choices, and many of those bad business model choices are driven by an over-reliance on the "crutch" that intellectual property provides, which gives firms the ability to take away property rights from individuals.

Mockingbird writes "I've posted the full text of Lord Kames's opinion in the important Scottish Sessions case of Hinton v. Donaldson from 1773. This was the case that rejected for Scotland, by a vote of 11-to-1, the theory of "common law copyright", that authors (meaning, in practice, publishers) had a perpetual copyright, at common law, of their writings. It was followed a few months later by the English House of Lords's decision in Donaldson v. Beckett, in which the English Lords rejected just as forcefully the claim that authors had perpetual copyright under the common law of England.

Of the twelve Sessions Lords who decided the case, ten issued opinions. Lord Kames's is one of the longer ones, and one of the most famous. Kames builds his case on principles of common law, property law, and commercial law, and finds the claim of "common law copyright" to be inconsistent with the principles of all these areas of law:

this claim, far from being founded on property, is inconsistent with it. The privilege an author has by statute, is known to all the world. But I purchase a book not entered in Stationer's hall; does it not become my property? I see a curious machine, the fire engine, for example. I carry it away in my memory, and construct another by it. Is not that machine, the work of my own hand, my property? I buy a curious picture, is there any thing to bar me from giving copies without end? It is a rule in all laws, that the commerce of moveables ought to be free; and yet, according to the pursuer's doctrine, the property of moveables may be subjected to endless limitations and restrictions that hitherto have not been thought of, and would render the commerce of moveables extremely hazardous. At any rate, the author of avery wise or witty saying, uttered even in conversation, has a monopoly of it; and no man is at liberty to repeat it.

Lastly, I shall consider a perpetual monopoly in a commercial view. The act of Queen Anne is contrived with great judgement, not only for the benefit of authors, but for the benefit of learning in general. It excites men of genius to exert their talents for composition; and it multiplies books both of instruction and amusement. And when, upon expiration of the monopoly, the commerce of these books is laid open to all, their cheapness, from a concurrence of many editors, is singularly beneficial to the public. Attend, on the other hand, to the consequences of a perpetual monopoly. Like all other monopolies, it will unavoidably raise the price of good books beyond the reach of ordinary readers. They will be sold like so many valuable pictures..... [the] booksellers, by grasping too much, would lose their trade altogether; and men of genius would be quite discouraged from writing, as no price can be afforded for an unfashionable commodity. In a word, I have no difficulty to maintain that a perpetual monopoly of books would prove more destructive to learning, and even to authors, than a second irruption of Goths and Vandals. "

Let's play a little hypothetical. Let's say that someone had discovered a way to automatically -- without any additional cost -- create all the food that the world's population needed, and automatically have it appear wherever and whenever needed. Think of it like the "replicator" device in Star Trek, where you can just walk up to it, and it'll create whatever food you want. The entire issue of hunger and worries about the "scarce resource" of food would go away. Who, in their right mind, would want to break such a machine, and force this newly abundant resource back to being scarce?

Yet, that seems to be exactly what's happening in the music world. A whole bunch of folks have sent in this positively ridiculous attempt by some guy named Paul Sweazey to get the IEEE to endorse a new standard to make content act more like physical property by allowing it to be "stolen." It's basically a weird DRM system that would allow the content to be fully "taken away" from the original holder. I've read the article a few times, and I have to be honest, that I don't quite get it. Those who get the content would still be able to share the actual content with whoever they wanted, however many times they wanted it -- but there's a separate "playkey" and someone can "take" that away, such that those who had it before can't use it after. But why would anyone "take" the playkey, other than to be a jackass?

But the bigger issue is why bother in the first place? Why purposely try to limit an abundant resource by making it scarce? Sweazey claims:

His answer is that such freely-copiable goods breaks the basic business model of human commerce by making goods nonrivalrous; it no longer has aspects of a private good, and this makes it difficult to sell.

But, this is wrong. It shows an out-of-date understanding of economics. While it may mean that you can't directly create a (paid) market in that private good, it opens up and enables many more markets. Going back to the food analogy: if you had many more people in the world who weren't hungry, and didn't have to spend all their money on food or food production, would that be good or bad for the economy? It seems rather obvious that it would be good, as money could be spent on higher level things that expand the economy.

Taking an abundant resource and actively working to make it act like a scarce resource makes no sense. It limits progress and the wider economy, and it's the last thing that a group like the IEEE should be supporting.

I've long had trouble with the idea that "property rights" make sense in virtual worlds. After all, the entire purpose of property rights is to efficiently allocate resources in the presence of scarcity. If there's no scarcity, there's no question of efficient allocation (everyone can get as many copies as they want). However, for whatever reason, there's been a big push to create "property rights" within virtual worlds. Slashdot points us to an excellent paper that goes through the arguments for assigning property rights in virtual worlds, and even models out some scenarios based on them. In the end, it finds no compelling reason for assigning property rights in virtual worlds. Here's just a snippet, from a look at whether or not property rights make markets more efficient in a virtual world:

Extending property rights to virtual resources does not make more efficient markets for those resources. The qualified approach to virtual resource property rights provides no reductions in the search costs of a buyer since the legal rights and attributes of those resources mirror those granted by the virtual world's code-based regulations. Worse, a carte-blanche approach will increase search costs by requiring a buyer to determine where the code-based rights and attributes of a resource deviate from its legal rights and attributes.

Therefore, the efficient market justifications for virtual resource property rights can not be satisfied under either the carte-blanche or qualified approach to virtual resource property rights. The only way this justification may be satisfied is if legislatures and courts reach into the virtual worlds and mandate what specific rights and attributes virtual resources can take.

One of the regular discussions we get into around here is over the question of whether or not things like copyright and patents are really property. The IP lawyers who insist that it's just like property focus on a rather simplistic (and wholly inaccurate) explanation of why it is property: which is that if it's a bundle of rights that can be transferred, then it is property. But that's misleading. Because it mixes up a couple of key elements that make this definition quite inconvenient. The key among them is that those who hold IP rights rarely sell them (yes, it does happen, but it's a rare transaction when it does). Instead, they mostly license the rights. And that's rare with real property. Again, it does happen sometimes, but not very frequently -- and, when it does, it's always represented quite clearly as a rental or a lease rather than a purchase. It's not even thought of in the same framework. So, you have a major difference right there.

And, in fact, there's a reasonable argument that when most of the transactions are licenses but are represented as purchases, it's actually very much against the basic principles of property, rather than for them. Martin points us to a fascinating and thoughtful writeup, by Nicklas Lundblad, originally written in Swedish, but the Google translation is quite readable, that discusses how the recent actions by Amazon to delete purchased George Orwell ebooks on the Kindle demonstrates just how anti-property "licensing" is (my own edit of part of the translation):

What is interesting with the time, however, is that it illustrates an example of a conflict that has not been seen very often - between the copyright and ownership of individual copies of a work which we have purchased legally. As noted in the article above, we would probably flinch [if someone] knocked on the door, courteously explained that the publisher who sold us the last part of Harry Potter no longer wants to provide a paper edition, and that therefore they had brought with him a little gasoline to burn up our copy . Most of us would probably shut the door again, put on a little coffee and [laugh]... [if anyone] would try their hand at this. But in the transition to the digital economy it will make it harder for us to protect our own space and our property, as more and more terminals are now sold [with what is] charmingly called a "kill switch". The iPhone will have, like the Kindle and other terminals: an opportunity to, at a distance, without our consent in the case (but we have certainly agreed to it in any agreement anywhere) change the content of the technologies we use.

And that very fact is incredibly anti-property. The idea that something we believe we have legitimately purchased can suddenly be snatched away from us, at a distance, with no recourse is not property. It's the opposite of property. In the comments to our original post, someone pointed out that for all the copyright maximalists who like to refer to infringement as "theft," Amazon's deletion of 1984 was a lot closer to "theft" in that people who had purchased something suddenly found that it was gone. Poof. That is extremely anti-property, and anti-free market -- and that's a problem:

The original article goes on to note that while a contractual agreement is the cornerstone of the free market, a license agreement built on copyright is quite different. It's built with a very strong imbalance, backed up by government protectionism, that changes the free market structure. Lundblad notes:

The license is like a parody of a contract because the contract coordinating effect been eliminated from the outset by a law which gives one party all the bargaining power.

While I have no doubt that this will upset and anger the folks who believe that copyright is absolutely 100% property, it's a rather compelling explanation of how copyright isn't just not like property, but in many ways is anti-property in that it violates some of the basic tenets of true property and true property rights.

We've pointed out in the past why it doesn't make much sense to treat "intellectual property" as "regular property," since it ignores some very important differences between the two. James Bessen and Michael Meurer, who wrote the recent book Patent Failure have always taken a slightly different approach. While they agree with us that the patent system tends to do more harm than good (and they've got a ton of research to back that up), they claim that the problem is that patents don't act enough like property. They say the problem is that the "fuzzy boundaries" around patents mean that there aren't clear rules or "fences" as with real property. So, their prescription is to look for ways to treat patents more like real property.

Eric Goldman points us to a recent paper by well known law professor and patent system expert Mark Lemley on why it's a good thing that patents aren't treated more like property. Lemley is mostly a patent system supporter, but (unlike some around here) he appears to recognize that the system could be improved, and seems open to evidence concerning where the patent system does more harm than good.

This paper makes some important distinctions between patents and real property, and notes that it's probably for the best that in the real world patents actually are not treated like property, because it would slow down innovation if, before anyone invented anything, they had to secure a ton of agreements with patent holders:

It is currently very much in vogue to talk about patent rights as a form of property, and in particular to draw analogies to real property. So let's engage in a thought experiment: what if we took the analogy seriously and actually behaved with patents as we do with real property? Product manufacturers would have to stop ignoring patents. No venture capitalist or bank (or shareholder, should Intel fund the project internally) would give Intel the money to build a new manufacturing plant (or "fab") unless it could demonstrate that it had conducted an exhaustive search for patents it might infringe in manufacturing its chips and had obtained irrevocable or at least long-term licenses to use any patent that anyone might conceivably later assert against the chips or the manufacturing plant. Intel, in turn, would look to a group of "patent insurance" firms that would spring up and that would conduct the search and determine what patents needed to be licensed. Unless and until all of this had happened, Intel could not start construction of its fab, much less make or sell chips produced by that fab. If there were significant disagreement over whether a party legitimately owned patent rights, perhaps Intel could bring a declaratory judgment action to try to clarify those rights, but it would hold construction in abeyance until it got an answer. And since there is no experimental use defense to patent infringement, scientists at both universities and corporations would have to conduct a similar search and wait to get permission from all possible interested parties before they began their research, lest they infringe a patent in the lab.

Would this world be desirable? I'm skeptical. Let's begin with the benefits of such a world. Patent owners would get paid early and often. Patent litigation would decrease, or maybe even disappear entirely, because anyone who wanted to make a product would find the patent owner and enter into a deal up front, or else not make the product. And patent owners who compete in the marketplace, and rely on the patent to preserve exclusivity, would not face competition during the often-protracted period during which the patent is being litigated.

At the same time, these benefits would come at significant cost. First, both research and the manufacture of products would be regularly delayed for years and perhaps decades as potential defendants identified and cleared rights....

Second, a real-property patent system would replace competition with central coordination in a significant number of cases. So far we have assumed that the patent owners will be willing to license their patents. But that is likely not to be true in many cases. Patent owners who compete in the marketplace want exclusivity, and there is no license price an equally efficient competitor will be willing to pay that will compensate for the loss of monopoly rights. Even patent owners who do not compete in the marketplace may find it more lucrative to grant an exclusive rather than a nonexclusive license to someone who does make a product, for the same reasons. Nor will a competing company be particularly sympathetic to efforts by outsiders to engage in research on the invention if the effect of that research will be to design around or improve that core invention. The effect of a real-property or title-search system is to replace competition in the shadow of a patent while it is being litigated with single-firm markets whenever the patentee participates in the market, either directly or by proxy. Researchers who could not obtain a license would direct their scientific efforts into different fields, and potential competitors would do the same, meaning that the owner of a core patent could control who, if anyone, worked on a particular technology. If you believe, as I do, that the evidence suggests that competition is often a better spur to innovation than monopoly, removing that contingent competition is a potentially significant cost.

Third, and perhaps most important, a significant percentage -- maybe as many as three-fourths -- of these patents turn out to be either invalid or not infringed. It is this probabilistic nature that most critically distinguishes patents from real property. Under the current system in patent-ignoring industries, consumers benefit from competition during the time before those patents are invalidated or held not to be infringed. Under a real-property patent system, the owners of invalid patents can capture supracompetitive profits during the time before their patents are invalidated, profits made at the expense of consumers and that they will never have to disgorge. That extra profit, in turn, would create significant incentives to obtain and enforce dubious patents....

Finally, people usually build a house on a single plot of land, while as I have noted, there may be hundreds or thousands of rights that must be aggregated to build a multi-component product. As Carl Shapiro and I have argued elsewhere, this fact exacerbates the patent holdup problem and leads to systematic overpayments by manufacturing companies, because individual patent owners won’t discount the royalty they charge to account for the complementary rights owned by others.

He goes into a lot more detail beyond that, and basically suggests that the current system of companies simply ignoring patents until later is probably better than going to one where patents are fully treated like property.

However, he then suggests a bunch of changes to the patent system that could (he believes) create a more reasonable middle ground: (1) more resources to the patent office to get through more patents faster (2) preventing patent applicants from delaying the process through things like continuations (3) requiring rapid publication of all patent apps (4) allowing peer-review and post-grant opposition to better establish what a patent really covers (5) allow independent invention as a defense against infringement (6) change the rules on "willful infringement" (which currently encourage people not to look at any patents by tripling damages if they find out you even looked at a patent you're later found infringing on) (7) change patent remedy rules to end situations where patent holders can hold up the production of useful innovations (8) require companies to do patent searches to make sure they are not infringing (this, combined with #6 almost flips current willful infringement rules on their head) and (9) require the publication of any patent license terms.

It's quite a list... At this point, this post is long enough not to get into whether or not this is a good or bad proposal (suffice it to say, I think some of it makes sense, while other parts are troubling -- and I'd bet that patent system supporters will say the ones I think are good are bad, and the ones I think are bad are good), but wanted to post it up here for discussion.

Jon Healy, whose writing for the LA Times I admire quite a bit, has written up a very balanced discussion concerning whether or not file sharing equals theft. He links to some of my writings on the subject, as well as pointing to the views of two Nobel Prize winning economists, F.A. Hayek and Milton Friedman, who both point out that copyright is not property, and treating it as such causes problems. He then presents the entertainment industry's view, which (of course) is that copyright is no different than traditional property. Then he brings in legal scholar Mark Lemley (of whose work I'm also a fan) who tries to bridge the gap by noting that copyright isn't property, but that infringing it "is wrong, and should be punished." However, Lemley also points out that most people recognize copyright isn't traditional property, and the entertainment industry's insistence that they're the same works against the industry, as most people recognize immediately that this argument is false, taking away credibility.

Healy comes out on the balanced side himself, suggesting that infringement is close enough to theft. He does so by comparing it to "theft of service" for cable companies, and noting that "you're still acquiring something of value without paying for it, and you're doing it without the seller's permission." This is a commonly used argument, and seems reasonable at a first pass, but I'd like to address why it's incorrect. Just because you acquire something of value for free (and without the original seller's permission) it doesn't automatically make it "theft." Let's run through some examples:

• I go to the pizza shop and they offer me a free soda with two slices. The soda has value, but I just got it for free, and did so without Coca-Cola granting permission. I don't think anyone would claim this is stealing or even wrong or immoral.
• My friend lets me borrow a book, which I read. The book has value. I got it for free, without the permission of the book author or publisher.
• I get on a train and pick up the newspaper that a passenger left behind. The newspaper has value. I got it for free, without the newspaper company granting permission. I don't think anyone would claim that's stealing.
• I go to the beach. The people sitting next to me are playing music on their stereo, that I can hear. The music has value, but I just got it for free, without the permission of the record label.
• I go see "Shakespeare in the Park." I get to see something of great value for free, without permission of William Shakespeare.
• Verizon sees that Sprint is going to announce an "all you can eat plan" and decides to introduce its own similar plan. Verizon got that idea for a bundle from Sprint for "free" and certainly without Sprint's permission. Yet, we call that competition, not stealing.

You can come up with your own examples. Now I'm sure people will start picking apart each of these examples. They'll say things like in the pizza/soda example, the pizza shop has implicit permission to resell the soda at any price they deem reasonable, since they paid for it in the first place. But, if that's the case, then we have another problem for those who claim that copyright is real property -- because the same thing isn't true with copyrighted material. Those who insist that copyright is the same as real property break their own rule by also insisting that they retain perpetual rights to the good, even after it's been sold. If copyright were like real property, after the creator sold it, the buyer could do whatever they want with it, including giving it out for free. Yet, it clearly is not like that. Coca-Cola sold soda to the pizza shop and the pizza shop can do whatever they want with it, including giving it out for free. So, if the entertainment industry wants to keep insisting that copyright is just like real property, and therefore infringement is theft, then they should also agree to let anyone who has bought their works do whatever they want with them, including give them away for free.

In fact, each "but, this is different because" explanation for the examples above can easily be turned around to prove the point that copyright is different than real property -- because it applies the same rules differently and deals with fundamentally different types of goods or services. What it really comes down to, yet again, is that this is a business model problem. For years, an industry that relied on artificial scarcity is discovering that it's hard to keep that artificial barrier in place. It can't pretend something is scarce when it's really infinite -- and trying to limit it will only backfire in the long run. What you need to do, instead, is figure out new business models that embrace the infinite nature of the goods, and focus on selling additional scarce goods, preferably additional scarce goods that are made even more valuable by freeing up the infinite good.