The mystical city of Ockham is famous for its college of magic. Here, genius spellcasters invent incantations and publish them in enchanted scrolls that others can purchase. As an aspiring wizard, you study these scrolls to learn from the best. Specifically, you’re interested in making mathematical magic— like spells that conjure complex shapes— for researchers to study. Often, you can’t afford the latest scrolls in your field. But one day, a friend tells you he's been using an illegal duplication spell to copy scrolls, and, if you’re interested, you’re welcome to read his collection free of charge. So, do you use his counterfeit scrolls to further your own research? As a wizard, you know designing spells requires a lot of intellectual labor and creativity, which is why it’s widely agreed that mages should be able to make a living selling their work. And since this system is also how wizards build their reputation, most believe it elevates good work and makes high quality magic reasonably accessible. But this system has its problems. In fact, researchers on our less magical world are facing similar issues with how science is published. That system's issues are far more complex than Ockham's, but both share a core philosophical concern: intellectual property rights. While many philosophers agree that some version of intellectual property rights make sense, their justifications vary widely. For example, some thinkers draw on English philosopher John Locke, who argues that if you “mix your labor” with a plot of wild land, any crops it produces, as well as the land itself, should be under your control. This makes a certain kind of sense for farmers, but are spells, songs, or stories really like farmland? For one thing, land is limited— if one person uses it for farming, someone else can’t use it for building. This kind of all or nothing resource is what some philosophers call a rivalrous good. But there’s no limit on how many people can be inspired by a sunset. And people can even arrive at the same idea independently, whether or not they share an inspiration. So if we can all have ideas without interfering with one another, why assign rights over them at all? One answer comes from 19th-century philosopher G.W.F. Hegel. He argues that control over our intellectual creations is crucial to the quest for personal fulfillment. For example, musicians making a new song aren't just mixing their labor with the world— they’re expressing themselves. And Hegel believes creators should have the right to control these creative extensions of their personalities. By using these ideas without permission or credit, we’re reducing a creator’s control over their life and legacy. Alternatively, thinkers like Elizabeth Anderson and Michael Sandel have argued that commodifying certain things can debase them. For example, while you might think it’s fine to treat a luxury car as something to be bought and sold, it feels strange to say the same thing about a library card. That attitude feels somehow disrespectful to the pursuit of knowledge. And taken to the extreme, one might conclude that all knowledge should be completely free. But even without compensation, how would you feel if someone copied your work and took credit for it as their own? Outside a world where everyone abandons ownership over their ideas, it’s hard not to feel like some injustice would still be taking place. That said, it also feels extreme to say intellectual property rights should always be respected. Scottish philosopher David Hume famously argued that, in times of famine, the government is justified in forcing wealthy citizens to open their granaries to the public. During the COVID-19 pandemic, similar reasoning led publishing companies to temporarily give free access to journal articles related to the deadly virus. In such an emergency, most agreed it was in everyone’s interest to prioritize saving lives over compensation. But do circumstances need to be this extreme to justify ignoring intellectual property rights? Or is your pursuit of knowledge enough for you to deny these mages their hard-earned coin? Your friend’s archive is waiting...