Intellectual property theft
Chinese copies of Western designs are well known, including the C919 passenger jet that seems uncannily similar to the Airbus 320 family and the Boeing 737. There is also the Yian-Y-20 that is nicknamed the Clonemaster because of its likeness to the C-17 Globemaster.
The Soviets did this, too, using stolen Concorde technology to produce the Tu-144, nicknamed Concordski, having earlier reverse engineered a B-29 Superfortress to make their Tupolev Tu-4
The UK was by no means innocent of intellectual property theft. In the 1950s, its pop music industry was dominated by a few large labels (EMI, Decca, Pye, etc.) who had licensing arrangements with US labels. They would often hold back the UK release of US hit songs until domestic “cover” recordings by British artists could quickly record note-for-note copies of US hits, sometimes using identical arrangements, and release them before the US original was available in shops.
Several UK artists built their careers by releasing direct copies of the work of American artists. Tommy Steele launched his career as a home-grown rock star with a cover version of Guy Mitchell’s ‘Singing the blues.’ Not content with this, he then released a cover version of Mitchell’s ‘Knee deep in the blues.’
Michael Holliday rose to fame on a cover version of ‘The Story of My Life,’ a US hit sung by Marty Robbins. Frankie Vaughan and others replaced US stars on UK charts with near-identical arrangements.
They could do this because in the UK of the 1950s, the song (composition) had copyright protection, but the arrangement and the sound recording were separate. A British arranger could just copy the US arrangement from the record, and there was little or no legal recourse for the US arranger because UK copyright law didn’t protect foreign recordings until the Rome Convention came into effect for the UK in the 1960s. The US itself had no sound recording copyright until 1972, so even back home it was only the composition that had protection.
Because US labels often needed a UK partner to distribute their songs, the British label could simply delay issuing the American disc, giving their local artist a head start. This wasn’t just competition; it was gatekeeping the market to suppress the original. This arguably deprived US artists and their labels of royalties from UK sales of the original recording. Arguably it was moral theft, even though it was not against the law.
It was aided by the fact that radio play was heavily restricted. There was a BBC radio monopoly, with no commercial pop stations before 1967, and BBC playlists often favoured the British cover versions.
It was not to the UK’s credit that this took place, but it does highlight the whole question of performing rights. In the days of AI, it is comparatively easy to base new performances on original material out there on the internet. We can spot copied aircraft, but it is harder to determine whether or not a performance has been cloned. Some people think that it is becoming impossible for artists to protect their work, and that the whole question of intellectual property has to move with the times. Should it be up to a judge sitting in a courtroom to decide if an Ed Sheeran song is based on someone else’s original work? Maybe AI might make a better job.
Madsen Pirie