MANUAL OF ANALOGUE SOUND RESTORATION ... - British Library

3.7 A severe warning
I shall make this point more clearly by an actual example in another field. I started writing
the text of this manual about ten years ago, and as I have continued to add to it and
amend it, I have been forced to keep the same word-processing software in my computer.
Unfortunately, I have had three computers during that time, and the word-processing
software was licensed for use on only one machine. I bought a second copy with my
second machine, but by the time I got my third machine the product was no longer
available. Rather than risk prosecution by copying the software onto my new machine, I
am now forced to use one of the original floppies in the floppy disk drive, talking to the
text on the hard drive. This adds unnecessary operational hassles, and only works at all
because the first computer and the last happen to have had the same (copyright)
operating system (which was sheer luck).
For a computer-user not used to my way of thinking, the immediate question is
“What’s wrong with buying a more up-to-date word-processor?” My answer is threefold.
(1) There is nothing wrong with my present system; (2) I can export my writings in a way
which avoids having to re-type the stuff for another word-processor, whereas the other
way round simply doesn’t work; (3) I cannot see why I should pay someone to re-invent
the wheel. (I have better things to spend my time and money on)! And once I enter these
treacherous waters, I shall have to continue shelling out money for the next fifty years or
more.
I must now explain that last remark, drawing from my own experience in Britain,
and asking readers to apply the lessons of what I say to the legal situation wherever they
work. In Britain, copyright in computer software lasts fifty years after its first publication
(with new versions constantly pushing this date further into the future). Furthermore,
under British law, you do not “buy” software, you “license” it. So the normal provisions
of the Consumer Protection Act (that it must be “fit for the intended purpose” - i.e. it
must work) simply do not apply. Meanwhile, different manufacturers are free to impose
their ideas about what constitutes “copying” to make the software practicable. (At
present, this isn’t defined in British law, except to say that software may always legally be
copied into RAM - memory in which the information vanishes when you switch off the
power). Finally, the 1988 Copyright Act allows “moral” rights, which prevent anyone
modifying anything “in a derogatory manner”. This right cannot be assigned to another
person or organisation, it stays with the author; presumably in extreme cases it could
mean the licensee may not even modify it.
It is easy to see the difficulties that sound archivists might face in forty-nine years
time, when the hardware has radically changed. (Think of the difficulties I’ve had in only
ten years with text!) I therefore think it is essential to plan sound archival strategy so that
no software is involved. Alternatively, the software might be “public-domain” or “homegrown,”
and ideally one should have access to the “source code” (written in an
internationally-standardised language such as FORTRAN or “C”), which may
subsequently be re-compiled for different microprocessors. I consider that even temporary
processes used in sound restoration, such as audio editors or digital noise reduction
systems (Chapter 3) should follow the same principles, otherwise the archivist is bound to
be painted into a corner sooner or later. If hardware evolves at its present rate, copyright
law may halt legal playback of many digital recording formats or implementation of many
digital signal processes. Under British law, once the “software” is permanently stored in a
device known as an “EPROM” chip, it becomes “hardware”, and the problems of
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