A perspective on indie art and piracy

Independent. Discrete. Free.

Indie is a term best known for its use in music culture, describing a breed of artists who have striven for recognition while refusing to ally themselves with the industry or 'mainstream'. The given reason for this is that the industry strangles creative freedom and smothers artistic material in the pursuit of making money from it.

The term has come into usage in other artistic spheres, including literature and electronic gaming. I myself am involved with the latter. These, too, have corporate control structures which direct the artists in question, and distribute copies of the work. These, too, have Indie.

Artists, writers, musicians and otherwise--we'll call them creatives--generally enjoy what they do, particularly when given free reign. They imagine, they express and they craft. The work (we'll make the assumption that it can be duplicated at little cost) is then possible to distribute among the masses. As a creative, I believe I speak for my brethren when I say I'd rather anyone inclined to experience the product of my labor could. But alas, I need to eat. If I am to dedicate all my time to my work then I must make money from it. For a long time, the means of duplication and distribution have been out of the reach of creative individuals. Creatives needed to ally themselves--at the cost of losing control over their work--with publishers.

Publishers are not creatives or individuals. They are collectives serving a common interest and as such will do so efficiently. In the name of efficiency, works are often modified so as to reap greater profit. It's been known to occur that these modifications castrate the work, deriving it of its character or most significant ideas. In the name of making the work appeal to a more general audience, censorship and other such warpages are imposed. These cannot be forced, but the other direction--starving artistdom--is threatening. Many notable writers (Mark Twain, Ayn Rand) had to try several publishers before finding one who would accept a reasonable semblance of their work.

Often this flexibility--choosing publishers after the work is complete--is not available. Many writers are in the constant employ of publishing companies. Game developers at large are subservients to game development companies run by businessmen rather than creatives. Musicians' agencies make alterations to lyrics and scrap songs they dislike. To defy these entities in such a situation is to cut one's self from one's work.

The dilemma is this: As a creative, I wish to create. I wish to do so as I will, and I'd love to give my work freedom rather than tying chains to it or leaving it to rot in obscurity. But again, horrid practicality compels me to make a living. To join a collective is to sacrifice my creative freedom and the freedom of my work. To stand alone is to be a creature of little means and doom my work to obscurity.

The former and latter choices have been about for a long time. Patrons would sponsor artists in the past, though as individuals they often allowed more freedom to their beneficiaries. Bohemianism, a cultural movement which glorified the starving artist, took the latter path. As the corporate distributor has come into existence these two cultures have separated more, to the division between prostitution and obscurity which exists in the present day.

But the tide has shifted. The means of distribution in the present day (largely, over the internet) are easily available to the individual today. This has altered the free path into something stronger. Those artists who distribute their work for free may do so at little cost, and even make money in indirect ways, such as advertising. Those who sell it, assuming they can get a start on the work, no longer need to be allied with controlling entities. Rather, digital distribution services facilitate this at the cost of a percentage of revenues.

Indie can be, now more than ever before. Creatives can operate freely, and ideas--glorious ideas!--can be exchanged and distributed, intact and on the creator's terms.

Additional forces are at work, nipping at the heels of the aforementioned controlling entities. Piracy makes light of the fact that such entities are making a profit selling information--information which can be duplicated at virtually no cost. The statistics regarding piracy are staggering! 60% of Europe's web traffic is peer-to-peer file transfer, and most of that (arguably) is illegal downloading.

Creative product, increasingly, cannot be sold. And going back again to the creative ideal--to see my ideas and work distributed freely--I think that's a wonderful thing. On the business side, I concede that it may well be more difficult for me to make a conventional living as an indie game developer in light of all this. (For what it's worth, I don't care much for money. I envision myself working a simple job at a bookstore and developing games by night.) That said, I propose a new 'business model', so to speak, for the indie game developers and other creatives of the glorious new age. If you must make money from your work, either sell it as a service (live performances, shows and social networking in games) or give it away freely and sell a token enrichment.

To explain these 'enrichments', I'll cite a few free games I've played (Dino Run, Chzo Mythos) which are completely free, but also offer simple additions (such as hats or additional backstory) for a small cost or even an arbitrary donation. These additions could be pirated just as easily, or more easily, than a commercial game. And if they are, so be it. However, they are small and made to appeal to those who have already fallen in love with the work. Those who actually desire them will, for the most part, also be willing to throw a bit of money in the direction of an admired Creative. Other examples include selling T-shirts, or print versions of electronic art such as webcomics.


The idea of indie appeals to me more broadly. I dislike collectives in their bland efficiency. I dislike their combination of insincerity and cleverness. I dislike that unlike an individual a collective gains no coherent satisfaction from a prosocial act. This is an idea that I uphold to my core and am speaking in few words here. For this idea I am indie not as a matter of practicality, but fervently! For this idea I am, as you surely have guessed, an anticorporate thinker. Individuals, I'll argue, have orchestrated the greatest acts and the most beautiful things crafted by mankind.

I call myself Indie.