Cross your fingers & hope it was made in the U.S.A.

In Communication Power, Manuel Castells asserts that while advances and revolutions in communication technology are crucial to the evolution of communication, actual consequences applicable in the everyday world arise from “policy decisions that result from the debates and conflicts conducted by business, social, and political interest groups seeking to establish the regulatory regime within which corporations and individuals operate” (99). One such decision just may be in the works. A little-known Supreme Court case (Kirtsaeng v. John Wiley & Sons) is calling attention to the first-sale doctrine in copyright law, “which allows you to buy and then sell things like electronics, books, artwork and furniture, as well as CDs and DVDs, without getting permission from the copyright holder of those products” (read more about the case here). Perhaps increasingly so in the age of information explosion we live in today, it seems that Intellectual Property Rights (IPR) becomes frequently enmeshed in the decision-making that drives and transforms the arena of communication. IPR protection is a top priority for diplomats of countries whose industries and economic interests are seriously threatened by violations, and even take on importance traditionally reserved for high-profile political negotiations. Times have changed, and it’s common knowledge that illegal acquisition and duplication of intellectual property abound in countless corners of the world—and the neighborhood. This isn’t just some faraway street vendor in Cambodia selling the latest Hollywood blockbuster practically as it’s being shown in theaters in L.A. It affects us at home, lending weight to Castells’ point that “societal communication is a practice regulated by political institutions in all countries because of the essential role communication plays in both the infrastructure and culture of society” (99). 

Depending on the Supreme Court ruling on Kirtsaeng v. John Wiley & Sons, businesses like eBay and Craiglist might receive some heavy blows—but perhaps more importantly, we may no longer be able to sell your textbooks back online at the end of the semester. Beyond the rights and wrongs of Kirtsaeng v. Wiley, the implications are huge. That IKEA desk you’re trying to sell before moving to your new pad? Or even those jewels passed down from your great-grandparents that was made who knows when and only God knows where? If the Supreme Court indeed rules that products made overseas are not applicable to the first-sale doctrine, the hassle in acquiring permission from the original copyright holder may be more than the worth. It could affect pricing, too, since rights holders might then want a piece of that sale, and in a stranger outcome, the ruling could even encourage manufacturers to produce everything overseas in the hopes of controlling every resale. Kirtsaeng clearly couldn’t have made $1.2 million from innocently reselling just the textbooks he personally used, and the first-sale doctrine indeed deserves questioning and reshaping to better accommodate the changing information and communication landscape of the 21^st century. But as individuals, the impact of policy that may seem personally inconsequential at first glance can be shocking on second look. And at the same time, it gets you thinking about another one of Castells’ assertions; that regulatory policies are the “result of power-making strategies through the articulation of business and political interests, dressed up in discourses about technological wonders and consumer choice” (107)...