In a purposely provocative blog post, MCM argues that all content is essentially worthless. The crux of the argument is the variation in price that different distributors attach to content — for example, a hardcover book is sold for $25, but a paperback for $10. Is the content within that paperback book really worth $15 less than the exact same content in the hardcover volume? And, if so, how much less (or more) is a digital version worth?
But before we can tackle price, we need to know: who decides *how* value is determined?
Everyone’s a Critic — and an Appraiser
Is value based on quality? Or scarcity? Or on difficulty of production, or of distribution? There’s never been a collective agreement about *how* quality is determined, and now each of those spokes (and others) are being disrupted yet again.
If Stephen King can blog a novel in chapters, thereby cutting out the publisher… what should he charge? What’s his actual work worth? And does he charge according to the time he’s invested, or the difficulty of creation, or according to his own subjective estimation of his own talent?
If Radiohead allows fans to pay them whatever they’d like for an album, how do the fans decide what that album is worth? How does that estimation differ if the listener has to pay in advance vs. paying a week after downloading (and forming a more educated opinion)? Is there anything karmically wrong with considering a free album a gift from the band?
All Things in Their Own Time (and Place)
If I paid $20 for a hardcover novel, at least I physically owned it; an eBook or an MP3 might not be on my hard drive tomorrow if its publisher so decrees. Is the value in content linked to my ability to possess it? Or to the relative quality of its packaging? Should content that “lasts” (like a CD) automatically become more valuable than content that doesn’t (like a live performance)?
Does content become more or less valuable over time, based upon the relative quality of other content? Or based on fluctuations in its own relevance? Jane Austen was underappreciated in her own time, but she’s a literary giant in ours. Does that mean her stories have somehow become better over time, or that our reaction to her as an audience has simply become more amenable? And, either way, how does this more recent fashionability impact the perceived value of her work? (What if she falls out of vogue again next century?)
I happen to think Mad Men is one of the better shows on television these days. Does it mean I think Mad Men is one of the best shows of all time? Or, compared to what I might think the best possible TV show could be, what if Mad Men only rates a C+? Does that mean the show is somehow worse than I thought? And what criteria should I use when comparing it to TV shows from decades past? Quality of acting? Writing? Set design? Pacing? Morality? How does Mad Men stack up against American Bandstand or The Simpsons? Or a book, film or album? Can it even be compared?
Content may be worthless, but before we can even make that argument, we should come to some general understanding of what worth is. Without it, we’re doomed to sell our own great works for pennies on the dollar while overpaying for what *they* say is “worth it.”
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