Non-US

Slight increase in BAME representation in children’s books, CLPE report finds

19 September 2019

From The Bookseller:

The Centre for Literacy in Primary Education (CLPE) has revealed that there has been a slight increase in children’s books featuring a BAME (Black, Asian and Minority Ethnic) character – from 4% in 2017 to 7% last year – with a rise in BAME central protagonists, from 1% to 4% in its second annual report on the issue.

The ‘Reflecting Realities: Survey of Ethnic Representation within UK Children’s Literature 2018‘ report was released on Thursday (19th September), with the key finding that there has been an increased presence of BAME characters in children’s books published in 2018, compared to the previous year.  This is the second year the survey has been conducted in the UK, with the aim of identifying and highlighting representation within picture books, fiction and non-fiction for ages three to 11. The document was launched at an event attended by publishers, influencers and media at the CLPE centre in Waterloo, central London.

The report found that the number of BAME protagonists has increased from 1% to 4%, and the number of books featuring a BAME character has increased from 4% to 7% compared to 2017. This equated to 743 books found to have a BAME presence out of 11,011 books. BAME pupils make up 33.1% of the school population in England. Additionally, publishers reported to the CLPE that 42% of the books they published in 2018 featured animals or inanimate objects as main cast characters.

The report adds the survey has “raised important questions for us about what constitutes valid, appropriate and quality presence.”

The 23-page report, which saw the CLPE work with a steering group, also alluded to a sense of progress following the first report last year, and highlighted areas of good practice. “Our findings in the 2018 report – which covered data for the calendar year 2017 – did not surprise us,” the report reads. “What did surprise us, and indeed inspire us, was the range of ways in which last year’s report galvanised others. Our report shone a spotlight on the work of independent publishers like Alanna Max, Knights Of, Lantana Publishing, Otter-Barry Books and Tiny Owl whose commitment to reflecting the realities of young readers was already evident in their work.”

. . . .

However, the CLPE warned that beyond volume, it wished to “encourage quality portrayals and presence” as “Quantity alone will not suffice, particularly if the quality is poor or, worse still, problematic”.

While the authors conceded that “in this second cycle, we found broader, more nuanced relationships within the cast of main characters,” they were still concerned about preventing tokenistic appearances of BAME characters. “This survey has raised important questions for us about what constitutes valid, appropriate and quality presence.”

There were various concerns around ‘Characterisation’ of BAME characters. “It was often the case that characters from BAME backgrounds in the submitted books were less well drawn than equivalent white characters, both in terms of actual illustration and in terms of character development,” the authors wrote. “For example, there were a significant number of books submitted where characters were drawn with exaggerated features that amplified their ethnicity in a way that reduced them to caricatures. We observed instances of colourism, in which there was a direct correlation with the skin tone and the virtue of a character.”

The report also provided 10 “degrees of erasure” which provided specific terms of concern including “Cover Short Change” which saw BAME characters only featured on the cover and not inside the book as well as the “Jasmine default”. The authors wrote: “We experienced a disproportionately high number of female characters named ‘Jasmine.’ The name was, in many instances, the only cue available to suggest that the character was from an ethnic minority background and therefore appears to be the reason the book was submitted for the survey.”

. . . .

BAME characters “need to be well developed and authentically portrayed”. The report’s authors went on to say that these characters “should not be predominantly defined by their struggle, suffering or ‘otherness’” but should instead be “central to many narratives”.

Aimée Felone, co-founder of inclusive publisher and bookshop, Knights Of, welcomed the report. She told The Bookseller: “The CLPE report shines a light on troubling and problematic features in kids books  – overuse of background BAME characters, characters that are ethnically ambiguous and hair as a single, insufficient cue that characters are from a BAME background.

“Many of the books published are still inadequate and rather alarmingly dangerous in their depiction of characters that are from BAME backgrounds.”

Link to the rest at The Bookseller

Level the Playing Field for Books in Translation

13 September 2019

From Publishers Weekly:

(PG Note – The author is a Slovenian publisher)

Nowadays, when everything is just a click away, people around the world have come to expect the latest installment of great TV series such as The Handmaid’s Tale or Game of Thrones to be delivered to their screens more or less simultaneously with the original release, together with corresponding subtitles in Croatian, Macedonian, Serbian, Slovenian…. There are many people involved with the production, and the security risks are extremely high, but still—the magic happens.

It is therefore somewhat surprising that in book publishing we’re witnessing a discriminating practice that has become increasingly common in recent years. In fact, this is now a sort of a status symbol, which divides major from merely big or important authors. At my Slovenian publishing company, Mladinska Knjiga, we still receive Mr. Barnes’s or Mrs. Hawkins’s or Mr. McEwan’s or Mr. Nesbø’s or Mr. Walliams’s new novels way ahead of publication (Mr. Nesbø even kindly provides the complete English translation for those who are not translating from Norwegian!), whereas this is not the case with authors (brands?) such as Dan Brown, John Green, or J.K. Rowling. Even Harper Lee’s second novel, Go Set a Watchman, was strictly embargoed until publication of the English edition. And now Margaret Atwood’s The Testaments faces the same issue.

The reason given is always the same: security. We were told by Atwood’s agency: “If this manuscript leaks, the consequences are huge, and therefore we have to have a strategy that minimizes the risk.”

A strategy? Some (well, most) of us are obviously not trustworthy. But there’s more. Initially a universal practice, this “strategy” is not without exceptions now. For example, the German version of The Testaments is scheduled for simultaneous publication with the original—so is the Spanish one and the Italian one. Is this then just a variation on a good old theme of “paying more” ? (One wonders how much of this is known to authors themselves, all fine people, who are usually sincerely grateful to each of their publishers from all around the world.)

The Booker shortlist was just announced, and it includes The Testaments. This is great news. It means that the book is good. But what it also means is that the jurors were given the manuscript ahead of publication, too. How did security procedures work in this case? I would rather not speculate, but let me just say that this only made us even more furious.

. . . .

In the case of The Testaments, we were particularly disappointed because we had initially been promised the manuscript in March (just enough time to publish more or less simultaneously), only to later be told that we’ll have to wait until September 12.

Why is this so crucial? We will lose the global promotional momentum and lose face in the eyes of our readers, booksellers, and librarians: the book is published, so where’s the Slovenian version? Most of them will think that the publisher is rather sloppy and slow.

The bottom line: we will sell less. And this is as important for German publishers as it is for Slovenian, Slovakian, and Icelandic publishers. Literary bestsellers are extremely rare. Therefore, one must seize every selling opportunity, and publishing simultaneously with the original edition is an especially effective one.

Sure, there are those houses that will hire multiple translators to finish the translation in two weeks, enabling the hasty publisher to publish the book just in time for the Christmas season. But would you really want to see or read the result? Margaret Atwood is a very fine author, one of the best. Her books deserve a committed translator and proper editorial dedication. And this takes time. So here is another factor that speaks against this strategy—the author’s reputation is at stake.

Link to the rest at Publishers Weekly

PG suggests that large publishers are almost religiously attached to their superannuated ideas about how to promote and advertise the books they release. Based upon shared folklore that the world is breathlessly awaiting the next release from OldPub in New York, they believe that a relative handful of chosen bookstores and an exclusive review in The New York Times will move the sales needle like it did before most people buy books online and the Times print circulation is plummeting.

New York Times Print Circulation – Monday-Friday – Wikipedia

Top 10 culinary memoirs

11 September 2019

From The Guardian:

When I was writing about the dinners I had with my elderly friend Edward, I made a decision early on not to include any recipes. Edward, an accomplished cook, rarely wrote down any instructions for, say, his oysters Rockefeller or chicken paillard. While the food we ate was certainly important, the book was not meant to be a cookbook, but instead a memoir about the nature of friendship.

In this pursuit, I was inspired by a rich literature of culinary writing in which food is a central motif, but is held together by the story of its preparation and the fellowship that comes from sharing a meal. So many writers – from MFK Fisher, who wrote lyrically about the pleasures of dining alone, to New York chef Gabrielle Hamilton, who documented her hardscrabble upbringing through family meals – use food as a catalyst for memories and loving nostalgia.

While I’m still a big fan of a good recipe book – anything by Jamie Oliver, Yotam Ottolenghi and Julia Child – it’s the stories in beautifully rendered memoirs that stay with me longer than any recipe. It’s Nigel Slater using burnt toast as a metaphor for his mother’s love, and Anne Fadiman getting drunk as a teenager when she tries to please her vintage-wine-obsessed father. Below, are what I consider some of the best culinary memoirs.

1. The Wine Lover’s Daughter: A Memoir by Anne Fadiman
Fadiman’s most recent book about her father, the American author and radio personality Clifton Fadiman, is a deftly written memoir – a coming-of-age story written around her father’s oenophilia. He was “a lousy driver and a two-finger typist”, she writes, “but he could open a wine bottle as deftly as any swain ever undressed his lover”.

. . . .

5. Consider the Oyster by MFK Fisher
WH Auden called Fisher “America’s greatest writer”, which is my excuse for choosing a second book by her. It’s easy to see why the poet so admired her, in this slim 1941 volume – an ode to the gastronome’s prize treat. “An oyster leads a dreadful but exciting life,” she begins. Fisher tells you everything you ever wanted to know about this bivalve mollusc and writes brilliantly about such unfamiliar ingredients as Herbsaint.

6. My Life in France by Julia Child, with Alex Prud’homme
A great account of the Childs’ life in Paris after the second world war. Working with her grandnephew Alex Prud’homme, the great chef reminisces about meeting her husband Paul in what was still Ceylon while both were working for the Office of Strategic Services, the precursor to the CIA. When Paul took a job in Paris, Julia immersed herself in French cooking. Her description of eating sole meunière for the first time at a restaurant in Rouen is mouth-watering: “It arrived whole: a large, flat Dover sole that was perfectly browned in a sputtering butter sauce with a sprinkling of chopped parsley on top.”

Link to the rest at The Guardian





I Spent the Night at a Library in Wales, and You Can Too

7 September 2019

From Smithsonian:

Hidden behind a grove of trees in Hawarden, Flintshire, a small village in north Wales located about 25 miles south of Liverpool, sits Gladstone’s Library, the only prime ministerial library in Great Britain. Named after four-term Prime Minister William Ewart Gladstone (1868-74, 1880-85, 1886, and 1892-94), the 117-year-old stone building is home to the late statesman’s personal collection of 32,000 books—part of the library’s extensive collection of 150,000 written works focused on everything from history and politics to theology and literature.

Not only does the library house one of the most comprehensive written collections on the island, but it also offers something the average library does not: overnight stays. As a self-proclaimed bibliophile, spending the night at a library curled up with a good book sounded like a dream come true. And I’m obviously not alone in my sentiment.

Gladstone’s Library welcomed its first overnight guests on June 29, 1906, right around the same time the library opened the doors of its current building. (The library’s history actually dates back to 1894, when it was housed inside the “tin tabernacle,” a corrugated metal structure located near the library’s current site.) Now, more than a century later, the library’s onsite 26-room B&B still draws guests from around the United Kingdom, Europe and United States who’ve dreamt of sleeping in a library for the night.
. . . .

[A]s a writer I couldn’t think of a better place to stay the night than a library. (Is experiencing writer’s block even possible inside a library?) After getting my room key and dropping off my bags in my guest room, I descend down the building’s wooden staircase to the main Reading Room. The only noise is the sound of the wood floorboards creaking beneath my feet. The sweeping, two-story room with its massive windows and arched ceiling feel like a scene pulled straight from fiction. Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry immediately comes to mind.

Link to the rest at Smithsonian

Wikimedia Commons CC0 1.0 Universal (CC0 1.0)
Public Domain Dedication

Enid Blyton had racist views. But I still read her

6 September 2019

From The Guardian:

in 1965 the eminent American science-fiction writer John W Campbell wrote an essay titled The Barbarians Within. In it, he recommended that “the barbarian” – and it was clear he meant African Americans – be injected with cocaine and heroin in order to be kept under control. It was a plan that, he said, “has the advantage … of killing him both psychologically and physiologically, without arousing any protest on his part”. He also claimed that slavery was “a useful educational system”, supported segregation, and argued that “the Negro race” had failed to “produce super-high geniuses”. Black sci-fi writers were unable to “write in open competition” with whites.

Incidentally, Campbell also believed in telepathy, and once argued that there was “a barely determinable possible correlation between cigarette smoking and cancer”. His opinions never got in the way of his success. As the editor of Astounding Science Fiction magazine, he was hugely influential on the genre during the 1940s, 50s and 60s; not just the authors he worked with (Isaac Asimov, Arthur C Clarke and Robert A Heinlein), but also those he kept out. All three of those writers were positive pinkos compared to Campbell; even Robert A Heinlein, who was an anti-communist rightwinger who proselytised the positives of nuclear weapon testing. In 1941, he wrote Sixth Column, a novel based on a story by Campbell, in which “pan-Asians” enslave the US, which fights back with a ethnic-specific ray gun that can kill the “slanty” and “flat face”. Heinlein would later voice his regret over the openly racist novel. Campbell would not.

Last month, while accepting the John W Campbell award for best debut writer in science fiction and fantasy (awarded by the latest editor of the magazine), British author Jeannette Ng called him “a fucking fascist”. Campbell, she said, had set a tone that was “stale, sterile, male, white, exalting in the ambitions of imperialists, colonialists, settlers and industrialists”. Within days, the prize was no longer named after him. It was a lesson in efficiently dealing with the legacy of influential, if morally questionable artists: the prize organisers considered the implications and made a decision.

The same day Ng got on stage it was revealed that, in 2016, the Royal Mint had considered Enid Blyton for the face of a commemorative coin, but decided against it as she was “known to have been a racist, sexist, homophobe and not a very well-regarded writer”. This verdict sparked much blustering about censorship and “political correctness gone mad” in certain pockets of British media. Richard Madeley and Toby Young, for example, lamented the mistreatment of a beloved author who had sold hundreds of millions of books. Young even blasted the decision as “transphobic”, given that Blyton had created George, the short-haired tomboy of the Famous Five.

. . . .

Both English children’s fiction and American science fiction of that era undoubtedly have a reactionary dimension. Just as 1960s sci-fi gave me a particular view of the world – full of cigar-chomping, gun-toting paternalists saving Earth from invading forces – so did Blyton. The baddies were often foreign or Travellers in her mysteries. Her fantasy villains were alternately golliwogs or ugly goblins, depending on whether I was reading her original text or a sterilised, modern edition. The adventures of her polite, white children were affirmative in many ways for me, a child in 1990s Australia who owned a golliwog – and not an old relic “of its time” but a brand spanking new one, given to me by adults who would not have seen much wrong in Blyton’s vision of the world.

When a beloved literary figure from the past is refused some kind of recognition as a result of their personal views, a backlash against modern “culture warriors” inevitably follows. This is understandable to a degree. After all, records of human communication only go back so far; we can only guess what Shakespeare’s opinions on trans people would be (actually he would have loved them, have you seen his plays?). To recognise racism in canonical authors like Blyton and Campbell is not to advocate for a Year Zero approach, blitzing the literary canon until only good-hearted, liberal authors remain.

Link to the rest at The Guardian

PG says it is not unusual, during a stage of their development, for children to regard their parents as clueless/stupid/outdated, etc.

In some cases, the children will continue to think themselves correct for the remainder of their lives. In most circumstances, however, the old aphorism, “The older I get, the smarter my parents become,” comes into play.

It is nice to think that, had we lived during an earlier era when some moral evil was prevalent in society, we would not have accepted it and our condemnation of the manifest error of societies of that sort would have been clear to all who knew us or learned of us through our later work.

Had we lived in Germany in 1937, we would have been ardent and unflinching opponents of Adolph Hitler and all he stood for.

Had we lived in Atlanta in 1860, we would have been proudly exiled from society because of our beliefs about slavery.

Had we lived in Britain or the United States in 2019, we would have condemned the totalitarian, self-righteous and childish impulses that lead so many of the students, faculty and graduates of expensive institutions of higher learning to remove books written by earlier authors from libraries and curricula and erase such people from history.

I have read a number of articles and books written in the late 1940s and early 1950s that report the great difficulty of locating any Germans who were supporters of Hitler before or during World War II. Evidently the bombing and shelling by invading Allied armed forces were extremely accurate, only killing committed Nazis, as those militaries overran Germany.

PG finds the intolerance for those who lived and wrote in earlier times when their books were solidly within the contemporary mainstream to be childish. He will also predict that the college-aged youths of 2060 will find a great deal to condemn about the political correctness, accompanying mental rigidity and cowardly fear of societal criticism on the part of those who held such foolish, blinkered and intellectually bigoted beliefs during the ignorant and retrograde early decades of the 21st Century.

The Lion and the Eagle: On Being Fluent in “American”

5 September 2019

From The Millions:

“How tame will his language sound, who would describe Niagara in language fitted for the falls at London bridge, or attempt the majesty of the Mississippi in that which was made for the Thames?”
North American Review (1815)

“In the four quarters of the globe, who reads an American book?”
Edinburgh Review (1820)

Turning from an eastern dusk and towards a western dawn, Benjamin Franklin miraculously saw a rising sun on the horizon after having done some sober demographic calculations in 1751. Not quite yet the aged, paunchy, gouty, balding raconteur of the American Revolution, but rather only the slightly paunchy, slightly gouty, slightly balding raconteur of middle-age, Franklin examined the data concerning the births, immigration, and quality of life in the English colonies by contrast to Great Britain. In his Observations Concerning the Increase of Mankind, Franklin noted that a century hence, and “the greatest Number of Englishmen will be on this Side of the Water” (while also taking time to make a number of patently racist observations about a minority group in Pennsylvania—the Germans). For the scientist and statesman, such magnitude implied inevitable conclusions about empire.

Whereas London and Manchester were fetid, crowded, stinking, chaotic, and over-populated, Philadelphia and Boston were expansive, fresh, and had room to breathe. In Britain land was at a premium, but in America there was the seemingly limitless expanse stretching towards an unimaginable West (which was, of course, already populated by people). In the verdant fecundity of the New World, Franklin imagined (as many other colonists did) that a certain “Merry Old England” that had been supplanted in Europe could once again be resurrected, a land defined by leisure and plenty for the largest number of people.

. . . .

Not yet an American, but still an Englishmen—and the gun smoke of Lexington and Concord still 24 years away—Franklin enthusiastically prophesizes in his pamphlet that “What an Accession of Power to the British Empire by Sea as well as Land!”

A decade later, and he’d write in a 1760 missive to a one Lord Kames that “I have long been of opinion, that the foundations of the future grandeur and stability of the British empire lie in America.” And so, with some patriotism as a trueborn Englishmen, Benjamin Franklin could perhaps imagine the Court of St. James transplanted to the environs of the Boston Common, the Houses of Parliament south of Manhattan’s old Dutch Wall Street, the residence of George II of Great Britain moved from Westminster to Philadelphia’s Southwest Square. After all, it was the Anglo-Irish philosopher and poet George Berkeley, writing his lyric “Verses on the Prospect of Planting Arts and Learning in America” in his Providence, Rhode Island manse, who could gush that “Westward the course of empire takes its way.”

But even if aristocrats could perhaps share Franklin’s ambitions for a British Empire that stretched from the white cliffs of Dover to San Francisco Bay (after all, christened “New Albion” by Francis Drake), the idea of moving the capital to Boston or Philadelphia seemed anathema. Smith explained that it was “asking too much of an Englishmen to look forward with pleasure to the time when London might become a provincial capital taking orders from an imperial metropolis somewhere in the interior of North America.”

. . . .

Why are American and British literature two different things if they’re mostly written in English, and how exactly do we delineate those differences? It can seem arbitrary that the supreme Anglophiles Henry James and T.S. Eliot are (technically) Americans, and their British counterparts W.H. Auden and Dylan Thomas can seem so fervently Yankee. Then there is what we do with the early folks; is the “tenth muse,” colonial poet Anne Bradstreet, British because she was born in Northampton, England, or was she American because she died in Ipswich, Mass.?

. . . .

Before he brilliantly complicates that logic, Spengemann sheepishly concludes, “writings in English by Americans belong, by definition, to English literature.”

. . . .

Sometimes misattributed to linguist Noam Chomsky, it was actually the scholar of Yiddish Max Weinreich who quipped that a “language is a dialect with an army and a navy.” If that’s the case, then a national literature is the bit of territory that that army and navy police. But what happens when that language is shared by two separate armies and navies? To what nation does the resultant literature then belong?

Link to the rest at The Millions

Is the political novel dead?

30 August 2019

From The Guardian:

When Anna Burns, author of last year’s Booker prize-winning account of the Troubles, Milkman, was asked whether writing was a political act, she was taken aback. “Honestly? This is the sort of question I don’t know what to do with. It’s not how my brain works.” Eventually she allowed that if politics was about power then yes, OK, her work was political. Such qualms did not deter the judges of the inaugural Orwell prize for political fiction from awarding Burns another trophy. Chair of judges Tom Sutcliffe praised Milkman’s “account of how political allegiances crush and deform our instinctive human loyalties”.

Like the rest of the Orwell prize shortlist, Milkman has a theme rather than an agenda. Always capacious, the genre of political fiction can now accommodate authors such as Ali Smith, Rachel Kushner, Paul Beatty and Jonathan Coe. As George Orwell wrote: “No book is genuinely free from political bias. The opinion that art should have nothing to do with politics is itself a political attitude.” Much harder to find, however, is an example of what one might call the campaigning novel: that subset that includes classics by the likes of Charles Dickens and Émile Zola alongside fiction-cloaked manifestos, memoirs and works of reportage. What unites them is a passionate desire to use character and narrative to draw the reader’s attention to some social ill and to galvanise efforts to remedy it. As Sam Leith, Orwell prize judge, describes the approach: “Look at this, isn’t it awful?”

When he announced the longlist in May, Sutcliffe said that it “acknowledges that the politics in a book can often be found between the lines, rather than on them”. Coe, whose state-of-the-nation novel Middle England did not make the longlist, took this as an “implicit rebuke” to books with an explicit agenda. “My response would be that sometimes there is a time to speak loud and clear,” he says. “And anyway, as my character Doug Anderton says in The Rotters’ Club: ‘Subtlety is the English disease.’ I think it’s a peculiarly English thing, this recoiling from a novel whose political message seems too overt. In France, for example, writers can receive extra points for being engagés. Even in Scotland, the likes of James Kelman and Alasdair Gray are considered national heroes partly for the political content of their work. But in England that seems to be considered rather vulgar.”

. . . .

Manifestly political novels have always aroused some degree of suspicion. Orwell famously categorised Harriet Beecher Stowe’s anti-slavery novel Uncle Tom’s Cabin (1852) as a “good bad book” – crude yet effective – and Milan Kundera in turn dismissed Orwell’s Nineteen Eighty-Four (1949) as “political thought disguised as a novel”. In a devastating review, Whittaker Chambers said that Ayn Rand’s colossal philosophical tract Atlas Shrugged(1957) “can be called a novel only by devaluing the term … Its story merely serves Miss Rand to get the customers inside the tent, and as a soapbox for delivering her Message.”

Resistance to a message has only grown stronger since then. Leith believes the tides of literary fashion have left the campaigning novel high and dry. “We’ve all drunk in the idea that you don’t reward a book for its subject matter but its literary craft,” he says. “While the consistency of the metaphors is fair game, the value of their ideas is less so.” This critical focus on form and language rewards a book as unusual as Milkman but creates a frosty climate for any author with a blatant reformist agenda.

“When you study literature, you learn the mantra that great art is not political,” agrees Joanna Kavenna, whose latest novel Zed is a wry satire about the unravelling of a supranational tech giant. “You read that ideas are somehow an imposition on fiction. But as soon as you create a character or write a story, you’re into an idea about society whether you like it or not.”

Link to the rest at The Guardian

PG is certainly not knowledgeable about all things in American society and even less so about British society. That said, his perception is that, at least in the United States, there is currently no shortage of politics in almost every crack and corner of human interaction.

Intelligent people seem to be stumbling into a political brouhaha without intending to do so almost every day and “proper” politics appear to be instantly revisable with the rise and fall of outraged Tweets on any subject, regardless of whether a word or act was political two hours ago or not.

Tightening the Screws on Pirate Websites through Dynamic Website Blocking Injunctions

26 August 2019

From Hugh Stephens Blog:

A pirate site is blocked through a court order yet like a chameleon it changes its colour (and IP address or URL) and is back up again tomorrow under a different guise. This is the reality that rights-holders have to face repeatedly in dealing with slippery pirate operators. But relief is coming.

In an important new development in India, the Delhi High Court recently issued a decision that allows rights-holders to seek “dynamic injunctions” against Indian ISPs. This requires them to block access to the spin-off “mirror” websites that typically appear as a result of the blocking of a primary offshore site that is providing copyright infringing content. Dynamic injunctions avoid the classic “whack-a-mole” problem where no sooner has a court issued an injunction against a specified website, than a clone hosted in some other unreachable jurisdiction pops up providing the same pirated content. Sometimes users seeking the original “free” content are even redirected to the mirror site. The Washington DC-based Information Technology and Innovation Foundation (ITIF) has prepared a detailed report of the Indian decision and its impact on India’s important film industry, focussing particularly on the dynamic injunction aspect.

According to the ITIF;

“Just as website blocking is a pragmatic reflection of a country’s efforts to use injunction orders to get local ISPs to block access to piracy websites hosted overseas (and outside its jurisdiction), dynamic injunctions reflect the fact these same operators can subvert a court’s decisions by shifting targeted piracy operations to alternative websites. The goal of using dynamic injunctions as part of a website blocking system is not just to combat online piracy, but also to change consumers’ behavior by raising the cost—in terms of time and willingness to find alternatives sites and circumvention tools—to make the legal sources of content more appealing.

Link to the rest at Hugh Stephens Blog

 

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