Why I'm Not Suing the AI Company That Pirated My Books
Will someone please think of the poor robots?!
An email hits my junk folder:
ANTHROPIC COPYRIGHT LAWSUIT
it screams in all-caps.
I ignore it.
A week later, an email hits my primary inbox.
ANTHROPIC LAWSUIT DEADLINE
I open it.
Seems my very first book, my baby, the memoir of my insane 37,000 pilgrimage around the world — where I went to North Korea, walked across a bed of hot coals, went to a nudist church, and all sorts of other shenanigans — has been “read” by an artificial intelligence algorithm and tucked into its knowledge bank.
I am furious.
I yell.
I kick.
I scream.
I hurl my laptop across the room, shattering the patio window.
Out in the yard, the laptop battery explodes, blinding my firstborn, killing my neighbor’s dog, and sparking a fire that burns down the neighborhood.
Luckily, no one dies, and insurance pays out swiftly.
I click delete.
A week later, my writing mentor emails me:
Anthropic Class Action Suit
Dude’s a heavy-hitter.
Not the biggest-bestest-sellingest, just the best living writer I’ve ever read.
Pushing into Patrick Leigh Fermor territory.
He says,
Are you aware that at least one of your books — A Year of Living Prayerfully — was pirated by Anthropic, a huge AI co., to train the beast?
There’s a class action suit against Anthropic. The projected settlement is $1.5B, which will cash out at $3K USD per book. You stand, after lawyer fees and the publisher’s cut, to make, oh, $5 or thereabouts.
Interesting that he called it “the Beast.”
AI very well might be used by that very spirit to manifest itself someday.
I wrote a whole white paper on the possibility of an AI Anti-Christ.
$3,000 per book, eh?
I punch up the lawsuit website.
Tort lawyering.
What a fun job.
Suing shady corporations for billions.
Good work if you can stay alive.
Turns out three of my books have been pirated by the AI.
I do the math.
Then I get back to work.
Another week passes.
My old literary agent emails me:
Anthropic Settlement Information
I am invited to join The Authors Guild to max my chances of the highest possible payout.
I don’t even reply.
Two weeks later, my old literary agent’s business partner follows up:
Anthropic Lawsuit Update & Information
I am given a false dichotomy.
I can opt out.
Or I can submit a claim.
Brock’s Rule: When given two options you don’t want, choose neither.
Apply this when voting.
I type a vague one-line courtesy reply so the agents know I’m not being rude by ignoring them.
I do not explain why I will neither participate nor waste time not participating.
But I will tell you, dear reader, the three reasons why I couldn’t be bothered to join the mad scramble for $9,000 minus tort lawyer fees:
1. I kinda love digital piracy
I don’t love it when people sell my books and films without recompense, but it costs me zero when someone grabs a digital copy of one of my books or films to just read or watch.
I’ve taken this stance from Day One.
Every reader who can and will pay for my books can and will pay for my books.
Those who can’t or won’t?
They’re clearly not my customers…
…but I still want them to read my books.
So I never take down my books and films from pirate sites.
The hope is that they’ll love my stuff so much that they’ll pay for the next one and become lifelong readers.
Worst-case scenario, I get to plant some thought seeds that can grow into something beautiful and helpful.
It’s a strange perspective, but there you have it.
Point number two.
This is the one that a tiny-but-loud handful of close-minded readers will inevitably attempt whinge about in the comments:
2. Suing people gives me the ick.
It isn’t really the Christ-like thing to do.
How exactly does God gain glory from me suing a robot for stealing a digital file?
Jesus literally died for his murderers — do we really think he’d sue someone who ripped a digital copy of his patent-pending Sermon on the Mount™©?
Christians tolerate robbery.
The only thing of any true value is untakeawayable.
In Luke 6:30, Jesus says, “Give to everyone who begs from you, and from one who takes away your goods, do not demand them back.”
In Matthew 5:40, he says, “If anyone wants to sue you and take your shirt, let him have your coat also.”
Jesus himself puts this into practice by giving Judas Iscariot control of their company’s money purse, despite knowing he was a thief, perhaps as a way of inviting him to a life of integrity.
In 1 Corinthians 6:7, the Apostle Paul writes, “To have lawsuits at all with one another is already a defeat for you. Why not rather suffer wrong? Why not rather be defrauded?”
Every time a Christian is robbed and doesn’t demand repayment, their heavenly bank account grows richer.
Christian economics is nuts, isn’t it? It’s all about the character of Jesus.
You can see how it absolutely repulses non-Christians and fake Christians.
3. I want to train AIs
Think about it.
Either we feed the machine with truth, or it will only know lies.
Besides, there’s no comparing an AI response or AI summary to my human-written books and films.
They’re just way better, and it’s a totally different experience.
Don’t believe me?
See for yourself.
You can watch all of my films for free right here:
Red Light Green Light (human trafficking documentary)
Over 18 (pornography addiction documentary)
Redeeming Uncle Tom (slavery documentary)
And you can read my books here:
A Year of Living Prayerfully (book on prayer) Download for free
Bearded Gospel Men (men’s devotional)
A God Named Josh (book about Jesus)
A Devil Named Lucifer (book about the devil)
And if you don’t want to pay for the experience…
I don’t care!
Happy reading.
PS — I’m looking for beta readers for a wild book I’m writing on Christian economics. You’ll get a free PDF in exchange for honest feedback. Interested? Hit reply or message me through my website.