Open Access and Scholars' Costs of Living

[Since I'm reflecting on copyright law, I will not include any of the images from the surveillance footage of Aaron Swartz entering the MIT wiring closet--you can Google it and imagine it here]

In September of 2010, a software technician working for the digital library JSTOR noticed something highly unusual: more than 200,000 separate “sessions” downloading academic articles from their server, all coming from the MIT library. Three months later, the ‘hacktivist’ Aaron Swartz was arrested for breaking and entering. Swartz had used a connection within a wiring closet to download the articles to his laptop. These charges were later dropped when authorities discovered that 1) Swartz was a Harvard research fellow entitled to access the server and 2) though the closet was supposed to have controlled access, it had been unlocked. However, he was charged with the following federal crimes: wire fraud, computer fraud, unlawfully obtaining information from a protected computer, recklessly damaging a protected computer, aiding and abetting, and criminal forfeiture—crimes with a maximum possible sentence of fifty years. He refused a plea bargain that would have entailed six months in a federal prison, and on January 11, 2013, the 26-year-old hanged himself before his trial could begin.

The story of Aaron Swartz is a tragedy, one that illustrates in the starkest terms the tension explored in chapter nine of Digital Humanities: A Primer: the altruistic impulse to share knowledge as freely as possible, and the need for the scholars working to acquire that knowledge to make a living. Part of Swartz’s legacy is greater attention to the gravity of this problem. There is much in this knot: the commodification of knowledge, the value of the role of gatekeepers and those who maintain digital infrastructure, the question of scholarly independence from the source of their funding, and what just compensation for work even means, just to name a few.

As an educator who has been immersed in economics for more than a year now as part of my job, I was bemused by this line: “[M]ost scholars see their work’s value in hiring, tenure and promotion (HTP) terms, not in terms of the commercial marketplace, and they are quite willing to distribute their work as freely as possible” (157). In brief, digital humanists must consider the big picture—the context to use a favorite word of historians—if they hope to continue to buy groceries and pay their bills through their scholarship. The following passage succinctly summarizes the current moment exactly as a primer should:

The late twentieth century therefore inherited two vibrant models of access to information and knowledge: one the patronage model sustained by individual, institutional or governmental resources and the other the commercial model built on the ability to produce vast amounts of inexpensive print for the broadest market possible. (159)

Space requires a bit of a leap, so I will just say that for me it boils down to the following: scholars need to consider who we want to write for—the general public or a specialized audience? In almost any topic, there are elementary concepts that will be necessary for the general public but tedious for specialists (they already know all this), and highly technical questions that the specialists will find stimulating and the general public somewhere between boring and intolerable. From that observation, it strikes me that the most efficient division of labor requires honest soul-searching of each scholar. If I am not just fluent but enjoy the most esoteric and complex aspects of my topic, I should explore those areas in writing intended for fellow specialists. If I respect these issues but find the language difficult and/or my interest wanes as the analysis gets more abstract, I should write for a popular audience. Both kinds of scholars contribute something valuable, and both kinds of scholars should write with a mind to bridge the gap between the two groups. ‘Minding the gap’ will make the expert’s writing clearer and more accessible, and the popular writer’s writing more accurate.

None of the above solves the problem of open access and vocational compensation, but it is part of the solution. Unless a new model is forged, experts will need to be content with their writing being hidden behind pay walls of various kinds, and institutions like JSTOR taking a beefy cut, and popular writers will need to be content not being featured in the most prestigious journals.

Sources:

Dean, John, and John W. Dean. “Dealing With Aaron Swartz in the Nixonian Tradition: Overzealous Overcharging Leads to a Tragic Result.” Verdict Comments, 14 Mar. 2018, verdict.justia.com/2013/01/25/dealing-with-aaron-swartz-in-the-nixonian-tradition.

MacFarquhar, Larissa. “The Darker Side of Aaron Swartz.” The New Yorker, The New Yorker, 10 July 2019, www.newyorker.com/magazine/2013/03/11/requiem-for-a-dream.