Calls are growing in the Wikimedia community to oust newly appointed Wikimedia Foundation Board of Trustees member Arnnon Geshuri, due to his involvement in the High-Tech Employee Antitrust Litigation controversy (see previous Signpost coverage). On January 20, Fæ called for a vote of no confidence on Meta, which proposes that "in the best interests of the Wikimedia Foundation, Arnnon Geshuri must be removed from his appointment as a trustee of the Wikimedia Foundation Board." The vote has attracted 70 support votes in just over 24 hours. Two current and former members of the board have already participated. Current trustee Guy Kawasaki was the first to oppose, doing so with a newly created Meta account. He has not yet provided the rationale for his vote, despite calls to do so from other participants. Former chair of the board Florence Devouard was the 16th support vote and linked to a statement on the Wikimedia mailing list that read, in part:
“ | Learning the whole story about Arnnon was a disappointment to me as it means the board selection process is not working as it should be (for a mature organization as WMF ought to be by now). If the screening process had been done properly, I believe the board would have refrained from selecting him, or at least would have taken the time to address the issue before any appointment announcement. ... Either the board is completely paralyzed and no more able to make any decision as to what they should do. Or the board has decided not to provide any feedback, which I consider completely disrespectful to the community and unhealthy generally. | ” |
On Sunday January 24, Trustee Alice Wiegand (Lyzzy) published a blog post in German entitled "Silence" (translation). The post shows signs of strong disappointment at the way in which the Board has handled the recent upheavals ("we're not currently having a good run"). She writes: "There has been widespread incomprehension, frustration, helplessness, and anger, culminating recently in a no-confidence vote. And the Board of Trustees is silent." In a metaphorical passage, she speaks of the effect that silence can have: "It paralyzes, irritates, and harms".
“ | While the community quickly judged the situation on the mailing list, the Board had to reflect on the situation. What facts did we have, what does Arnnon say, why was this matter not considered in the selection process? Would it have been different if the committee had known about his background? Could we have published a short message at that stage with a note that we're following the [community] discussions, reflecting on the issues, but still need some time before we can make a statement. Yes, we could have done so, and we should have. | ” |
Although Wiegand writes there is much about the ongoing community discussion that she doesn't agree with, to her, it "clearly demonstrates how sensitive the community is to our decisions, how strongly it fears that major changes are being pushed through without its input, and how big the loss of confidence in the Board as an institution has become. Some of it is rooted in misguided ideas about the methods and extent of the Board's decisions. Once again it shows that we’ve still not managed to communicate [with the community] our self-conception as a Board of Trustees, our tasks and our ideas in a clear way."
Wiegand says that the Board is preparing a statement on the Geshuri appointment that she plans to contribute to personally. "Most of all, we have to stop self-centered introspection, and tackle the actual questions around free knowledge."
Every day, Wikimedians on projects such as the English Wikipedia and Wikimedia Commons debate and decide whether specific pieces of content such as images should be kept and used, or should be deleted. Most of these discussions are routine and not of interest to more than a handful of people, but there are exceptions. In this column, which I have adapted and updated from my comments in a recent deletion discussion on Commons, I discuss such an exceptional case in which our collective decision whether or not to keep and widely use a set of images has been broadly publicized, and I challenge the decision we have thus far reached.
In 2011, the wildlife photographer David Slater traveled to the Indonesian habitat of a group of macaque monkeys. He set up a camera to photograph the monkeys, but then stepped away from the camera for awhile, during which time one of the monkeys pressed the photo button several times. (I had been under the impression that a monkey's pressing the button was inadvertent on Slater's part, but I see that our mainspace article indicates Slater allowed this deliberately.) Some of the resulting photographs of the monkey looking directly into the camera, christened by some as the "monkey selfies," have become iconic. Extensive discussion has followed both on- and off-wiki of whether Slater has legal or, at least, moral rights to the photographs, or whether he is without rights because he is not the one who pressed the button. In the Wikipedia context, the question becomes whether the "monkey selfies" can be freely used on-wiki, and equally important, whether they should be.
When the question "who owns the monkey selfies?" first arose, I perceived it as just an interesting parlor-game, or perhaps as something suited for my "final exam for wikilawyers", but I did not pay too much attention, because I doubted that the issue's practical importance were worth the energy being spent debating it. My view shifted more recently as I learned more about the person behind the photograph, who is deeply unhappy with Wikimedia, and who has asserted in the press, though not (yet?) in court, a very real claim of rights.
To date, Wikimedia and Wikipedia have taken the position that the photographs are in the public domain and thus that they may, and will, be freely used on our projects for any purpose. I challenge that outcome and suggest that we change course, not merely because of legal uncertainty but because respecting the human photographer's rights in these photographs is the right thing to do. If we respect the intellectual property rights of photographers in general, as we must, then I believe our approach to this particular set of photographs cannot be justified.
It is undisputed, because Slater disclosed it (if he had not no one would know), that the monkey pressed the button on the camera. It appears to be equally undisputed that the monkey did not make any creative or substantive decisions relating to the photographs. In particular, it certainly was not a crested macaque monkey who (1) acquired a camera, (2) studied photography and become a photographer, (3) decided to use the camera to take photographs of wildlife, (4) decided to bring the camera to a particular location in Indonesia on a particular date, (5) selected a particular image or creature to be photographed, (6) set up, configured, or adjusted any of the settings on the camera, (7) had any knowledge that if he pressed the button, the result would be a photograph, much less (8) had any knowledge that if he pressed the button, the result would be a photograph of himself, or even (9) knew what a camera is, what a button is, or what a photograph is. It was Slater who did, or had, or knew, each of these things.
I thus have little difficulty in recognizing Slater as the intellectual parent of these photographs, at least to the extent of not wishing to see them used on-wiki without his consent, and indeed over his express and deeply felt objection. Historically, Wikimedia projects have taken a fairly strict view of what constitutes potentially copyrighted material, which either should not be used at all or may be used only in limited circumstances and with a clearly stated fair-use rationale. Over time, this strictness has resulted in some unnecessary deletions, based on purely notional or theoretical copyright claims that were never realistically going to be pressed by any rightsholder in the real world. In that context of bending over backwards to honor borderline copyright claims, we should think long and hard before we insist on continuing to use a particular photograph over the express objection of an individual who, at the least, has a colorable and reasonable argument to be both the practical and the legal author and owner of the material.
Although I am a lawyer, I do not find it helpful to view this primarily as a legal question. The legal background here is actually a bit absurd. Last year, an animal-rights group brought a lawsuit in the United States District Court for the Northern District of California (San Francisco) seeking a declaration that the photographs were copyrightable and that the copyright belongs to the monkey (See previous Signpost coverage). That lawsuit predictably went nowhere. Indeed, a defendant's brief in the case put it beautifully: The words "a monkey, an animal-rights organization and a primatologist walk into federal court to sue for infringement of the monkey’s claimed copyright" belong in a comedy sketch, not a copyright action; and "monkey see, monkey sue" is not good law.
That outcome did not, however, resolve the more serious question of whether the images, under US law or any other law, belong to Slater or are in the public domain. The US Copyright Office has not ruled on the copyrightability of these specific images, but has issued guidance, perhaps with this dispute in mind, describing "a photograph taken by a monkey" as uncopyrightable. I don't think, however, that anyone at the Copyright Office delved into the extent of human contribution and creativity in the creation of these particular images, nor am I sure that the Copyright Office's interpretation here is right—and let's not even get started on the choice-of-law issues that might be involved. Enough with the legalities: at a minimum, I believe Slater can make a reasonable and defensible claim that the copyright is his, and more importantly, that it should be his.
"Free content" projects such as Wikimedia should not be in the business of perpetuating bizarre and unnecessary disputes over rights ownership, challenging the rights of persons who either are the owners, or in good faith make a defensible claim that they are the owners and are certainly the intellectual creators, of a set of images. Now, to be sure, this principle can be taken only so far: there are times, such as in certain freedom of panorama disputes, or where attempts to recapture large categories of public domain images ("reenclose the common"), or other types of overbroad intellectual property claims would significantly decrease freedom of expression, that taking a stand will be justified. But such cases have been rare, and this is not one of them. The factual scenario underlying this image is a bizarre one, unlikely to recur, certainly unlikely to recur with frequency. Any loss of intellectual freedom that would be associated with our choosing to delete these images or at least to minimize their use would be very slight.
It certainly would reflect questionable priorities for Wikimedia or Wikimedians to expend either scarce legal resources or our goodwill on litigating such an issue if, as is reportedly possible, Slater were to assert a claim. Sometimes, of course, we must spend money and resources and goodwill to defend an important principle, and we have collective resources devoted to precisely that endeavor, to be put to use if and when we need them. But defending the dubious principle that "if a photographer sets up a shot but somehow an animal presses the button, we will ignore the intellectual property claims of the photographer" is not such a case. And, significantly, it is not the case that we must use every image that we legally may, or arguably may; surely we are free to consider what is fair and ethical, and not merely what is lawful, in making these decisions.
I have read through much of what has been written about this subject over the past couple of years and I am disappointed by some editors' insensitivity to what is, at least, a substantial rights claim asserted in good faith. I am also troubled by some comments made over time that, while I would not say they were made for the purpose of bullying Slater, at least have the foreseeable effect of making a show of his powerlessness to control the reuse of images that would not exist but for his efforts, expertise, and expense.
One of the legal memoranda that Slater's lawyer submitted in the federal case is worth quoting as it summarizes his position concisely and well. I recognize that I am quoting an advocate's words rather than from a neutral source, but I find these points persuasive:
“ | Snapping the shutter is something any human or monkey can do; setting up what became a world-famous, award-winning photograph is what professional nature photographer David Slater did. As a non-human animal, [the monkey] is inherently incapable of setting up the photograph at-issue in this case. Slater set up what became the Monkey Selfie in the course of several grueling days in an Indonesian jungle. Developing a keen understanding of their subjects is a critical skill for any professional photographer, and it was vital here for Slater as he slowly built a trustful, friendly relationship with a group of crested macaque monkeys. Only a talented human photographer could have made the artistic choices involving camera lens width, positions and settings (e.g. predictive autofocus, motorwind, and flashgun.... [Slater] made the critical artistic decisions that resulted in a photographic work adored by millions worldwide. |
” |
I understand that there are those who think that this issue is a tempest in a teapot; as I said, I was until recently in that position myself. And frankly, I can imagine that someone else who found himself or herself in Slater's position might have chosen to go along and not make a fuss and to be "a good sport" about the whole thing. He might have figured that the unique circumstances were not going to repeat themselves, and that the attendant publicity might be positive, for his reputation and business and for the causes of nature photography and protection of the wildlife that he adores.
But it is not for me, as a stranger to Slater and to his life's work, to say that he made the wrong choice by reacting instead as he has. I realize that this may seem a harsh judgment, but in my view, we dishonor the cause of free knowledge when, as the largest free-content set of websites in the world, we treat him as we have.
The ancient allegory of the Danse Macabre is there to remind us that, rich or poor, emperor or fool, we must all take the final dance. And there will only be one partner. Death is the great equalizer; the one event we must all share. With so many on the programme in the last few weeks, not only the iconic David Bowie but Alan Rickman, Lemmy, Natalie Cole, René Angélil and subsequently, The Eagles's Glenn Frey, this list, on which Death has always been a welcome guest, has taken on the pall of the dance itself. Bereavement is also often seen as a shared emotion; justifiably or not, we seek to share in the grief of others as if it were our own, whether it be Celine Dion, who lost two loved ones in the space of three days, or Iman, who lost a husband, or Duncan Jones, who lost a father. We feel the need to work through the grief of loss by understanding, and remembering.
For the full top-25 list, see WP:TOP25. See this section for an explanation of any exclusions. For a list of the most edited articles of the week, see here.
As prepared by Serendipodous, for the week of 10 to 16 January 2016, the 25 most popular articles on Wikipedia, as determined from the report of the most viewed pages, were:
Rank | Article | Class | Views | Image | Notes |
---|---|---|---|---|---|
1 | David Bowie | 11,772,266 | Contrary to popular belief, chameleons do not change colour to match their surroundings; they change colour to reflect their mood and their relationships with others. From the moment that David Robert Jones changed his name to David Bowie, he proved himself chameleonic in the true sense. His career was a kaleidoscope of reinventions; not just of music and appearance but of persona, profession and gender identity, each time anticipating the reactions of his audience, and usually forcing them to catch up with him. Fiercely intelligent and unafraid to show it, he also anticipated the effects of technological change, releasing Space Oddity five days before the launch of Apollo 11, and using the Internet to interact with fans years before the age of social media. His work as an actor also frequently ran leaps ahead of audiences, whether as an alien in Nicolas Roeg's initially ill-regarded but now lauded The Man Who Fell To Earth, or as Jareth the Goblin King in Jim Henson's Labyrinth, a critical bomb that would go on to become a fixture of children's video libraries, and earn him an entire new generation of fans. But his death this week at the age of 69 may prove his greatest leap ahead yet; while ill with cancer for the preceding 18 months, he refused to publicise his condition and instead used his last time on Earth to compose Blackstar, one of his best reviewed albums in decades. Just as Bowie lived as art, he died as art, and the video for Lazarus, the second single from Blackstar, which featured a suddenly aged Bowie blindfolded on a hospital bed, would become an epitaph to the world. Once again, we had to catch up with him, and the shock of his unexpected death shivered across his pan-generational fanbase, pushing Blackstar to #1 in the US album chart, astoundingly for the first time, and giving him not only the highest single-day tally of Youtube VEVO views ever recorded, but also, incidentally, the first ever eight-figure weekly Wikipedia viewcount. | ||
2 | Alan Rickman | 4,863,327 | This week saw the unexpected passing of two beloved British cultural icons, and had Alan Rickman died at any other time, he doubtless would have claimed the top spot. While Rickman may not have had Bowie's cross-generational hold (he came to stardom relatively late in life, at 42, as Die Hard villain Hans Gruber) his performance as Severus Snape in the Harry Potter film series made him an unlikely sex god to a million Millennial fangirls. His height (he was 1.85 m tall), aquiline features and distinctive voice (a low, deep rumble often compared to the purr of a cat) made him perhaps the most natural British villain since Christopher Lee, though he always insisted he didn't play villains, but "very interesting people". A true romantic in real life (he remained with his childhood sweetheart until his death) he seldom got the chance to play such roles on film, though he did in such films as Truly, Madly, Deeply and Sense and Sensibility. | ||
3 | Iman (model) | 2,515,227 | Rock stars aren't exactly known for successful, stable romantic relationships, and yet this Somali model was by all accounts happily married to David Bowie for nearly 25 years. | ||
4 | The Revenant (2015 film) | 2,186,969 | Alejandro González Iñárritu's Western survival epic starring Leonardo di Caprio (pictured) has earned nearly $100 million in its first 12 days of wide release, and has scored 12 Oscar nominations. | ||
5 | Duncan Jones | 1,939,421 | How do you rebel when your dad's David Bowie? Well if you're Duncan Zowie Haywood Jones and your dad insists on calling you "Zowie Bowie", you stick to the most determinedly normal parts of your name and become a successful mainstream Hollywood filmmaker. Already lauded for his thoughtful science fiction story Moon, Jones will release the biggest film of his career this year, the adaptation of the massively popular video game franchise Warcraft. While there is never an opportune time to lose a loved one, for Jones, it's hard to imagine a less opportune time than now. | ||
6 | Steven Avery | 1,535,415 | Down from #1 and 2 million views last week. Avery is an American prisoner who is the subject of the popular new Netflix documentary series Making a Murderer which was released on December 18. (Episode 1 is available free on YouTube.) Avery served 18 years in prison, from 1985–2003, after being framed by the local police for a sexual assault he plainly did not commit. During his subsequent civil lawsuit for compensation, during a period of explosive depositions, he was charged with the murder of a local photographer, and later convicted. I am in the midst of watching this show and highly recommend it, as does a large swath of the internet. Interestingly, his Wikipedia article was created on November 11, 2005, a few days after his arrest for the murder charge. | ||
7 | Charles Perrault | 1,320,925 | Under the name Mother Goose, Perrault was the originator of the most popular versions of fairy tales like Cinderella, Sleeping Beauty and Red Riding Hood. He got a well-deserved Google Doodle for his 388th birthday on 12 January. | ||
8 | Star Wars: The Force Awakens | 1,254,180 | The reignition of the Star Wars franchise crossed the elite $1 billion worldwide milestone this week. | ||
9 | Leonardo DiCaprio | 1,224,706 | After pushing himself about as far as he can reasonably be expected to go in The Revenant (see #4), the popular actor is building up steam for an Oscar win after a Golden Globe and a handful of critics' awards. | ||
10 | Angela Bowie | 1,169,212 | In a strange quirk of fate that could only happen nowadays, David Bowie's first wife and mother of Duncan Jones (see #5) heard of her ex-husband's death while on the current series of Celebrity Big Brother. |
Three featured articles were promoted this week.
Seven featured pictures were promoted this week.
The world and the Internet have been permanently altered in the last fifteen years: Altavista and Lycos, for instance, were the popular search engines of the day, and “Googling” something had three more years to come about. The concept of social media was nearly non-existent.
It should come as no surprise, then, that when Magnus Manske started editing Wikipedia in 2001, the encyclopedia was a very different place. Its home page in November 2001, now utterly dated, boasts of having 16,000 English-language articles—and the contributors could only dream of getting to 100,000. There were no images on the front page, only black text and blue hyperlinks.
Manske told the blog that he vividly remembers this original front page: “Back in 2001, Wikipedia was the new kid on the block. We were the underdogs, starting from a blank slate, taking on entities like Brockhaus and Britannica, seemingly eternal giants in the encyclopedia world. I remember the Main Page saying ‘We currently have 15 not-so-bad articles. We want to make 100,000, so let’s get to work.’ ‘Not-so-bad’ referred to stubs with at least one comma.”
“It was a ghost town, with just about no content whatsoever.”
Still, humor was not lost on the pioneering editors who were working towards a seemingly impossible and unattainable goal. When the subject of replacing the Wikipedia logo came up—at this time, there was no world-famous Wikipedia ‘globe’ logo; in its place was a quote from Thomas Hobbes’ Leviathan—one contributor referenced the infinite monkey theorem: “A million monkeys. A million typewriters. Wikipedia.”
At that point in time, even MediaWiki—the software that underpins Wikipedia and other wiki sites around the word—didn’t exist. However, the site’s growth posed problems for the original UseModWiki code, as it could not scale up to meet the demand. Manske coded a replacement for UseMod, which he called Phase II. It introduced a number of innovations that Wikipedia editors still use today, such as namespaces, watchlists, and user contribution lists.
However, even Manske’s code had to be rewritten a year later, as Wikipedia was growing explosively. That original goal 100,000 articles would have put Wikipedia in the same category of the Encyclopedia Brittanica; Manske said that based on Wikipedia’s initial growth, they thought they would hit 100,000 in ten years—and “even that seemed overly optimistic.”
In reality, it took only two. “Once we hit exponential growth, it all became a blur; suddenly, the rocket was off the ground. We tried our best to hold on and stay on course. Two months ago we passed five million articles, fifty times the number we hoped for.”
In the succeeding fifteen years, Manske has seen several life changes—in 2001, he was just another a biology student at the University of Cologne. His work on Wikipedia since then has heavily influenced his life. His current job in population genetics actually sprung out of it: “During my PhD, I got an email from a professor in Oxford who wanted to run a wiki in his lab, and he somehow heard that I am the man to talk to. He invited me over to the UK to give a brief talk and answer some questions, which I did. He then realized I was in biology and would be looking for a post-doc soon, and he was starting a group in Cambridge.”
Wikipedia has too. The blog asked Manske for his thoughts on where Wikipedia is today:
While it is fine to grow a little conservative in order to protect our common achievement that is Wikipedia, I think we should be more open and enthusiastic for new possibilities. A prime example is the site itself. People love the site not just for its content, but also for its calm, ad-free appearance, an island of tranquility in the otherwise often shrill web; the calm and quiet of a old-fashioned library, a refuge from the loud and hectic online world.
But we have gone from slowdown to standstill; the interface has changed little in the last ten years or so, and all the recent changes have been fought teeth-and-claw by the communities, especially the larger language editions. From the Media Viewer, the Visual Editor, to Wikidata transclusion, all have been resisted by vocal groups of editors, not because they are a problem, but because they represent change. For these editors, the site has worked fine for years; why change anything?
To some degree, all websites, including Wikipedia, must obey the Red Queen hypothesis: you have to run just to stand still. This does not only affect Wikipedia itself, but the entire Wikimedia ecosystem. Our media handling is antiquated to say the least; video inclusion in article is only now starting to pick up, many years after sites like YouTube have become as ubiquitous as Wikipedia itself. Other great projects, like Wikisource and Wikiquote, remain in their own little niche, hampered to a large degree by the lack of appropriate technology. Wikidata, the only radical new technology in the recent WikiVerse, was spawned by [Wikimedia Deutschland/Germany], not WMF proper, and remains poorly understood by many Wikipedians.
A lot has changed since 2001. Wikipedia is a success. We are no longer fighting with our back at the abyss of failed start-ups; we have a solid foundation to work from. But if we wall our garden against change, against new users, new technologies, new approaches, our work of 15 years is in danger of fading away. An established brand name only carries so far. Ask IBM. Ask AOL. Right now, we are in an ideal position to try new things. We have nothing to lose, except a little time.