POV: I’m obsessed with copyright, and you should be too

Artistic ownership, copyright and intellectual property are a source of constant debate and concern among the creative community, especially since it remains an eternally complex and changeable subject. So, it was no surprise to see the popularity and lengthy discussion underneath Aysha Tengiz’s candid and helpful Instagram post detailing a recent grapple with a client’s contractual demands. Here, she expands on the post, breaking down what happened and sharing her learned advice on how to better understand the terminology and your rights, as well as sharing some helpful resources.

A few weeks ago, I was sitting at my desk when the familiar ring of a new email piqued my attention. Finally, after months of work drought, a commission had come through – and it was a corker. Interesting subject, decent pay and it was set to kick off straight away. The client was an exciting, well-known magazine and I couldn’t wait to begin work. There was just one tiny snag: I read the contract and it sucked.

The agreement was sent over by the parent company, and it was heavy. Pages of indecipherable text were written as if the legal team had used a thesaurus on every single word. In my opinion, this is done so artists won’t bother to read the contracts, instead signing away with a shrug of ‘how bad can it be’. The answer is, unfortunately, very.

The section that caught my eye was that regarding rights. The company wanted entire copyright and IP (intellectual property) for the work, meaning that they would have full ownership of the characters, ideas, and illustration itself. In case this wasn’t clear, it also went on to state that they could use it for films, TV, books, products... the list went on.

So, what are copyright and IP? I think this is a question that baffles many artists, often leading them to sign their works away because they’re embarrassed about not understanding it, or are worried about confronting clients.

Copyright is the legal right that protects your artwork – art that is drawn up by the artist is automatically owned by that same artist. If someone commissions a piece of work, you still own the rights to the art, but the commissioner essentially pays for a licence to use it. It’s this licence that protects the artist and restricts the commissioner from using the artwork outside of what they have paid for. For example, if you were hired for an editorial commission to accompany an article in a magazine, the client couldn’t then put that artwork on a T-shirt and sell it without paying you.

IP (which falls under copyright) is specific to ideas and creations from the mind. This could be stories or characters within the work; it’s not the drawing itself, but the ideas behind it. I know myself and many other artists repeat characters, stories, and jokes throughout our work, so owning the IP to your work is very important. Take the above example of an editorial commission, if you had signed over your IP rights, and used recurring characters in that commission, the client could then choose to use the work in any other context – and you won’t see a penny of revenue.

But this isn’t the only issue. Copyright ownership also means that they could sue me if I repeated any of the characters or ideas used within the commission. This is something that happened to comic artist Alex Norris, leading them into a six-year legal battle with game company Golden Bell for the rights to their own artwork and comics.

As catastrophic as that would be, with recent developments in technology there’s potential for it to all get even worse, with clients using copyright loopholes to facilitate the harvesting of illustrations to train AI generators... welp.

The parent company of the magazine that originally reached out to me is massive. If this is a standard contract that gets sent to every artist that works for them, then they may have an enormous hub of artwork that they can train AI with. This means they could use AI to repeat the artwork style by referencing these images, without having to re-hire the artists who created the work. And it would also be completely legal, because they technically own that art. The rapid development of AI technology has already had huge effects on the art world, and looks set to decrease the amount of (already limited) creative jobs. Clearly, it’s now more important than ever for artists to understand and protect our rights.

I managed to get clued up on my legal rights through a mixture of things: bad experiences, deep Googling and having friends who shared their knowledge. Having this understanding is, in my opinion, vital when working as a professional artist, and it’s something that should be taught much more extensively at university – even if it is ‘boring’. If illustrators understand their rights and together take a stand against bad practice and dodgy contracts, we have a much better chance of surviving this ever-changing creative industry.

After I had read the original contract in question and found an issue with it, I got back to the client and asked them to amend the section regarding copyright; I got a solid no – this is the first time that has ever happened to me. And so, I ended up declining the project. Turning down the work did not feel good, but if we continue to give up rights to our work, then soon enough we won’t be necessary.

I’ve put together a basic template for a contract to send to clients at the start of a project – it’s free to download and use. For a more in-depth and professional alternative, the AOI has many resources including contract templates, legal advice, and business support for members. There are also plenty of informative sections which are free to access.