
Now, my glowing statements about wanting to give free designs to the community all leave out the general economics of design. The conventional wisdom outside the open source community seems to be that you can’t make money off it. Inside the community of course there are lots of ways people are making money off it, from promotional use (getting consulting jobs by demonstrating competence in the open source world, aka getting paid not to talk about what you’re doing) to product identification, where people are in the business of making the things they design because people are interested in buying from the originator of the design rather than a copyist.
My earlier discussion on non-commercial licenses sounds quite a bit different from that, and this is in part because I see Thingiverse as potentially the beginning of a new model for commercial digital design: the Collaboratively Licensed Artifact. (I will refrain from creating a Three Letter Acronym of this for now.) These artifacts can flow fairly naturally from the organization of Thingiverse: one designer combines other designs, which are a heterogeneous mix of other commercial and non-commercial licenses, to make a product released under a non-commercial license, and sold as a complete artifact or licensable design.
Artifacts of this nature would require some form of contract negotiation, perhaps also through Thingiverse (although maybe we’d want someone like the Creative Commons to help us with the contract stuff.) A properly executed example of this pattern would mean that the end designer would be paid for commercial use of the finished design (or sell copies directly), then pay all the contributors down the line as per the agreed royalties.
So what would this mean for Thingiverse?
I think what would happen, if this model got off the ground in a big way, is that the design economy would begin to stratify somewhat, but in a fairly benign way. First, you’d have some designers who are designing for the sheer hell of it, and who recklessly stamp “Attribution – Share Alike” on everything they do. The quality of their designs would vary from jaw-droppingly excellent to utterly useless. (As I’ve said, we’re going to need better search functions the more designs show up.) Next, there would be people who aren’t trying to make a living out of design, but who would rather it show up as a net positive on their balance sheet, and so are doing some casual amount of non-commercial licensing. Their designs might in many ways form the bedrock of the more commercialized sectors of shared digital design. With the pros borrowing from them (and sometimes even giving them a few bucks in royalties!), there would be some pretty popular designs in this arena. Then you’d have the pros. There wouldn’t be many of them, maybe only one or two at first, but they’d be doing this as their day to day job. They’d draw together a fistful of existing designs and crank out two or three models of powerful usefulness and keen design a week. Possibly making use of a pay download feature, (in my rosy scenario, no DRM of course) they’d be selling designs and perhaps printed products, based in part on non-commercial licensed designs which they pay royalties to use commercially.
This economic system, if it could be made, would result in a really dense profusion of downloadable, printable objects, many of which would be both useful and beautiful. On average, the quality of free designs would be less than the quality of pay ones. The gap in quality would determine the price of those designs. There would be outliers in quality, leading to endless discusion about how “The new Hamilton Hedge Clippers are just the old HC1.0 design with some damn gears stuck on ‘em, don’t bother,” and so on, but on the whole I think the system would be worth it.
And maybe it’s just me but if I ever heard this sort of software-industry-inspired discussion about physical artifacts I think it’d pretty much make my year.