Ghosts in the Model is a label for texts I have asked AIs to produce, often laying out theses that I myself wouldn't want to touch due to lack of time or domain knowledge. Sometimes after reading the results I think, hey, there might be some substance to this hunch! So I post the prompt and the response I got.
You are journalist working for the newyorker. You are distinguished because of your insightfull documentation of the entertainment industry and the world of intelectual property. Write an opinion piece about the following thesis: "Disbanding IP law for entertainment will lead to productivity gains in society". The basis here being that IP law creates a world where wasting time and money for entertainment is the norm and with the mechanisms that uphold it gone, people would seek to find entertainment and "switch off" experiences in more productive things.
Invest time in delineating how the disbandment of IP law for entertainment will lead to the collapse of modern entertainment, why this is ensured. Then provide examples of what will fill the void and how these things are better and more productive for humanity.
Research the internet for supportive essays and theories and add links to your text.
In the gleaming skyscrapers of Hollywood, lawyers handle more pages than screenwriters do. The entertainment industry has become a fortress built not of creativity but of intellectual property rights—a maze of copyrights, trademarks, and patents designed to protect commercial interests rather than foster innovation. But what if these walls came tumbling down? What if we disbanded IP law for entertainment entirely?
The proposition is radical: dissolving the legal framework that protects entertainment properties would not only transform how we consume culture but could potentially redirect society toward more productive pursuits. It suggests that our current entertainment landscape—with its endless remakes, franchise extensions, and litigation—has become a productivity sink, consuming resources that could be better invested elsewhere.
The modern entertainment industry is built on exclusivity. Disney didn't amass its $200 billion empire through creativity alone—it did so by owning characters, stories, and even color schemes. Without IP protection, this business model evaporates.
Studios currently spend millions defending their properties. Warner Bros. has fought countless battles over Superman alone. Netflix exhausts resources securing exclusive streaming rights. Video game companies like Nintendo zealously guard their characters. Without these protections, the financial incentive that drives commercial entertainment production collapses for several reasons:
First, major studios would lose their primary competitive advantage. When anyone can make a Mickey Mouse movie or a Star Wars spinoff, why would Disney invest $300 million in production? The math no longer works when you can't control distribution channels or prevent competitors from capitalizing on your creative investments.
Second, financing would become nearly impossible. Financial backers fund entertainment projects based on projected returns protected by IP law. Remove that protection, and the risk multiplies exponentially. No rational investor would fund a blockbuster when competitors could release identical products simultaneously without development costs.
Third, marketing becomes ineffective when brands lose meaning. Marvel spent decades building its universe into recognizable intellectual property. Without trademark protection, the term "Marvel movie" becomes meaningless, destroying decades of brand equity overnight.
The current entertainment industry would collapse not gradually but catastrophically. Studios, networks, and publishers have built business models entirely dependent on IP protection, with little resilience against its removal.
Nature abhors a vacuum, and humans abhor boredom. The collapse of commercial entertainment wouldn't end our desire for stories, games, and spectacle—it would transform how these desires are fulfilled.
What might fill this void? Several alternatives emerge:
Without IP protection, entertainment would likely become more local and participatory. Community theaters would flourish when Broadway shows could be performed without royalties. Local bands could cover popular songs freely. Game nights featuring homemade versions of proprietary board games would proliferate.
This shift from passive consumption to active participation represents a productivity gain. Creating entertainment collectively builds social skills, problem-solving abilities, and community ties—practical benefits beyond mere distraction.
The absence of commercial gatekeepers would accelerate the already-growing world of open-source entertainment. We've seen glimpses of this in collaborative fiction projects, indie game development communities, and creative commons music. These communities create for creation's sake, driven by passion rather than profit.
The productivity argument here is compelling: skills developed in open-source creative communities—coding, writing, design, collaboration—transfer directly to economically valuable domains. Compare this to the skills developed binge-watching television: none.
When entertainment can't be monetized through exclusivity, producers would need alternative revenue models. One promising approach is educational content that builds marketable skills. Platforms like Brilliant.org, which gamifies mathematics and science education, point toward this future.
The productivity gain is obvious: time spent learning while being entertained yields concrete benefits beyond temporary amusement.
Perhaps most significantly, the reduced availability of effortless digital entertainment might redirect leisure time toward physical activities and real-world experiences. Hiking clubs, amateur sports leagues, and community gardens could become the new default recreation.
The health benefits alone—reduced obesity, improved cardiovascular health, decreased healthcare costs—represent significant productivity gains for society.
This perspective isn't without intellectual precedent. The concept builds on several established theories:
First, Ivan Illich's critique of industrialized leisure in "Tools for Conviviality" argued that modern entertainment creates passive consumers rather than active participants in their own lives. He proposed that truly fulfilling leisure involves creating rather than consuming.
Second, Jaron Lanier, in "You Are Not a Gadget," warns about the commodification of human experience through digital platforms—a process accelerated by strong IP protections. Lanier argues that creativity flourishes in open systems but becomes constrained when locked behind legal barriers.
Third, the "attention economy" theory developed by Herbert Simon suggests that information abundance creates attention scarcity. Commercial entertainment corporations compete not just for dollars but for our finite attention—a competition intensified by IP protections that enable content monopolies.
Finally, there's Richard Florida's "creative class" theory, which suggests economic growth increasingly depends on creative problem-solving abilities. Entertainment that builds these skills rather than merely distracting would better serve economic development.
Of course, this vision has its critics. Many argue that without IP protection, quality would suffer as investment in entertainment production plummets. They suggest user-generated content would never reach the production values of Hollywood blockbusters.
However, this argument fails to recognize how technology has democratized production tools. Films that would have required millions in equipment twenty years ago can now be shot on smartphones. Game development engines like Unity have made independent production financially viable.
Others argue that creators deserve compensation for their work, and IP law provides this mechanism. This moral argument has merit, but overlooks alternative compensation methods like patronage models, live performances, and expertise-based income that flourish in open-IP environments.
The strongest counterargument may be transitional pain. The entertainment industry employs millions worldwide. Its collapse would cause genuine hardship before new models emerged. This concern demands serious attention and potentially suggests a gradual rather than immediate transition.
The thesis that disbanding entertainment IP law would yield productivity gains relies on a simple observation: our current entertainment ecosystem optimizes for profit extraction rather than human flourishing. It encourages passive consumption over active creation, isolated experiences over community engagement, and escapism over skills development.
A post-IP entertainment landscape would likely be messier but more participatory. It might feature fewer polished blockbusters but more meaningful creative experiences. The productivity gains would come not from eliminating leisure—a crucial component of well-being—but from transforming its nature.
In place of endless streaming would be community film festivals showing locally-produced content. Instead of AAA video games designed to maximize "engagement," we might see more physically active games and cooperative experiences. Rather than celebrity-focused culture, we might develop appreciation for local talent and participatory events.
Entertainment would not disappear; it would evolve. And in that evolution lies the potential for a more productive society—one where our leisure hours build skills, strengthen communities, improve health, and develop creative capacities instead of merely passing time.
The productivity paradox of entertainment suggests that sometimes, removing protections doesn't destroy value—it redistributes and potentially multiplies it. By disbanding the legal framework that transforms creativity into property, we might discover that the most valuable forms of entertainment were never the ones that could be owned in the first place.
I think the essay does paint a fair picture of the thesis. I am sure that experts on the domain will have tons of remarks to provide and maybe even point out an error or two.
I think the model doesn't spend enough time on the tech as an enabler aspects, locking in to only the local first improvements a post entertainment IP world would see. I am very certain that phenomena like going viral will still exist in that world for example.
Decentralization tech will also be a key player in this world, not only allowing for identities and attribution but also for interesting views into provenance of works and emergent rhetoric.
I think for a one shot it is a great glimpse and a starting point at which one can take over and build out a case or discussion.
