When I was in my early twenties, I drove my dad’s 1986 Lincoln Continental that I “improved” by attaching a cheap portable CD player (featuring the latest anti–skip technology) with velcro to the dashboard that then ran a cassette adapter to the stereo system. It was the early aughts and I had a humongous portfolio of homemade mix CDs thanks to Napster and Limewire. I know, I know; I’m even cooler than you ever imagined.
2002
Less than a week after pimping my ride, someone crashed a brick through the window and ripped the CD player and portfolio from inside the Lincoln. The door was unlocked, the CD player retailed for $!0, the window replacement cost me $400, I was picking shards of glass from the car for the next three years, and truth be told I was more embarrassed how much Spice Girls the thief would discover on my CD mixes than anything else. This is a relatively mild case, but theft is such a personal crime that it’s hard not to feel extreme anger and frustration over even minor infractions.
The irony is how little we all think about that individual connection. I just admitted the hardest part was getting over the theft of the music I illegally downloaded (and still had the MP3s on my hard drive back home anyway). So this is all to say no one is truly blameless, and to my topic at hand, we’ve all taken part in online art theft in particular to some degree. Maybe you downloaded something from Google to put in a PowerPoint presentation or make a fun birthday card for a family member. I’ve seen tons of Facebook and Twitter banners or avatars that certainly weren’t created by the user or credited to the artists that did. Consider this blog post your public shaming and absolution on the matter. May the almighty and merciful Lord grant you indulgence, absolution, and remission of your sins. Amen.
Seriously though, the main reason I want to write about online art theft is to show you just how poorly the odds are stacked against the creators, why it affects everyone, and how you can help. There are so many insanely frustrating and infuriating stories that I reached out to four of my artist friends who have experienced art theft so that I could get help to paint you a picture of how common this actually is and submit real experiences for your consideration.
Justin Piatt is a young up and coming artist who was flabbergasted to find someone else he did not know selling his art on various merchandise on RedBubble.com
“I feel frustrated, helpless, and taken advantage of. I was slightly flattered at first because I've never had this happen before and it almost feels like validation that my artwork is finally good enough to get stolen, but that quickly faded.
Now I just think about how any money, however little it might be, that these thieves receive from this is money that could have gone toward my rent or taking care of my wife. And it makes me mad because my struggling so much to make a career out of being a ‘starving artist’, and I'm literally having the food taken out of my mouth.”
The theme of being flattered at first is definitely a running one, but similarly most artists also know how difficult it is to sell their own stuff. People who just steal content tend to be a lot more savvy when it comes to online sales and can turn a profit quickly. I should mention that Red Bubble is actually pretty quick when it comes to taking down stolen art, but that’s where the good deeds stop. The seller is usually free to continue using their shop and whatever sales they’ve made using stolen art does not affect their remittance. Red Bubble also insists you not put these sellers on blast but rather let them handle things.
“Handling things” is where $#!t really hits the fan. There’s basically two ways to go about calling a thief out. Neither works well. The first is old west style, contacting the individual directly. Now keep in mind you’ve just found some schmuck who is openly and arrogantly selling your art, so realistically, you’re most likely in a foul mood. “Hey buttface! That’s mine! Take it down or I’ll call my lawyer!” Yeah right. Often, the seller can actually file a claim against you for harassment and now you’re the one on trial. Plus, hostility is usually met with more hostility. When you have art stolen and the chance to confront the seller directly, you have to eat a larger–than–humanly acceptable slice of humble pie and politely ask them to remove the stolen item for sale, “Please and thank you, hugs and kisses.” Barf. My personal experience is that 9 times out of 10, they’ll play nice… for the time being, but now you have to keep vigilant watch on this kleptomaniac, because they will almost certainly do it again.
Now to be fair, there are very rare instances where online art theft turns out to be a misunderstanding, or at the very least, a lovely kind of ignorance. My good friend Jamie Carroll tells this sweet story:
“Someone was printing a Dr. Teeth and the Electric Mayhem image (a licensed piece that I created for Disney and Acme Archives' Dark Ink department) and putting it on socks. I contacted the site and the person responsible. It turned out to be a couple of kids raising money for some school thing. They were just using Googled images. There's a lot of that. They took it down, I received an apology and a pair of socks.”
They also just might not respond. Why should they? There’s the likelihood the site they’re selling your stuff on doesn’t allow direct communication anyway, so now it’s on you to report theft to the web host. Man, get ready to have even more of your precious time taken from you. As mentioned, Print On Demand (POD) sites like Red Bubble have links to submit Digital Millennium Copyright Act (DMCA) Takedown Notices that don’t even question things. If someone says it’s a problem, they’re not interested in pursuing the matter further and you’re more or less done. Larger corporations however have the time and power to let sellers sell, and that’s more money for them! When I contacted Amazon about someone selling my art without my permission, they required I prove the art was mine. I sent the original link I posted the art to, a ToughPigs article showcasing the work, and this website as proof of my identity and profession as an artist. They proceeded to tell me that this was not enough to verify my claim and insisted I refill out their exceptionally long and tedious form again for re–submission. When I protested, the email chain closed and suggested I apply for Amazon Brand Registry—something that might work if the thief wasn’t selling my fan art of Kermit the Frog who is already trademarked with the Walt Disney Company and if I was willing to pay between $225–$400. Thanks, I hate it!
My email correspondence with Amazon.
The amount of time one has to devote to fighting online theft is exhausting. As Jamie explains;
“I get pretty cheesed, but there's little I can do most of the time. Trying to get justice for art theft is like a full time job of whack-a-mole. I report the ones I can, but then let it go.“
Of all my artist friends, Kenny Durkin probably gets ripped off the most. He has told me he finds his work being sold without his permission on a daily basis, even going so far as to say, "I can teach anyone how to get their art stolen. I'm really good at that." Like Justin, Kenny was initially flattered and even encouraged by others to view any theft as flattery, but his view on the subject changed very quickly.
"I went through a huge phase where I got really angry every single time it happened, even to the point of never wanting to post artwork ever again. Basically 'taking my ball and going home'. Now I see it as a minor annoyance, it seems like most of the time the stealing of my artwork is done by bot accounts. So I try to shut them down the best I can."
Photo taken by Kevin Williams and Lin Workman, 2007
Another form of online art theft doesn't even take potential money from the artists pockets, but rather goes viral and takes away something arguably more important: their name! I always get a kick when someone on Instagram (especially an official account or someone with lots of followers) posts my art, but then feel like a drowning rat trying to get the account to credit or even just tag me. I'm willing to bet paper money most people reading this blog have seen this very touching tribute of Kermit reaching out and touching a photograph of Jim Henson. It's so good that it's just assumed it was created and owned by The Henson Company or Walt Disney Studios. In fact, it was staged and shot by my friend Kevin Williams and his associate Lin Workman. This picture has been passed around so much that Kevin actually wrote about its origin and continued life around the web that I strongly recommend you read.
"I guess the first thing was getting over the shock that so many people liked it that they were sharing and sending it all over the world, ignoring that it originated with our little team here in Memphis.
Friends noticed the image getting posted everywhere and would tag me in it, and I would follow through with 'Here's our story.' Eventually, I wrote the article to link to just because it was easier than repeating the story every time."
Kevin basically threw his hands up and said, "Here, please read this!" Jamie again succinctly explains how discovering online art theft over and over again weighs an artist down:
"Friends notify me all of the time about bootlegs and, to be honest, I'd rather not know. It just puts me in an angry and helpless place where I want to do something, but can't."
Online art theft is so burdensome to creators that they feel helpless to a point of giving up or changing their online presence completely. That can lead to creative slumps or a desire to not grace an online audience with something that can truly make someone else's day. And none of that even comes close to dealing with the stress and frustration over what to do when an artist learns their work has been stolen. Just finding the time to fight a battle that will usually end in defeat is more than should be asked of someone who didn't even want to take part in this problem in the first place.
So what can you do? First and foremost, support artists directly. If you want something specific, either commission your favorite artist via DMs or email or find out if they have an online store. Those that do will have links readily available on their own websites or in the descriptions of their social media accounts.
My dad wanted a coffee mug of a bootleg Chef, so I made him one myself instead.
Try and avoid products from ads on social media. They almost always sell stolen art. Even items that look official usually have no affiliation with the intellectual properties (IPs) they're selling or especially the artists that created them. Facebook in my experience is infamous for selling stuff like this. As a hardcore Muppet fan, I can tell you no official merchandise of The Swedish Chef saying, "Vert Da Furk" would ever get approval from any board of directors associated with the property. All they need is a clean looking website and no one thinks twice.
Finally, if you see someone's art being sold that you know does not belong to the seller, don't just notify the artist, submit a DMCA Takedown Notice yourself! The more voices fighting an issue tend to get noticed quicker. If you see someone post art they didn't create (primarily because they're not an artist), politely ask them to credit the artist. If you want to post someone else's art, most artists will be thrilled at the attention but only if you make it clear who the creator is.
Many thanks to Justin, Jamie, Kenny, and Kevin for contributing to this post. Please check out their stuff and follow them on social media because they are super talented and genuinely wonderful humans the world could use more of.
Justin Piatt: UzzyWorks.com and @uzzyworks on Instagram
Jamie Carroll: jvcarroll.com and @jvcarroll4 on Instagram
Kevin Williams: muleycomix.blogspot.com and muleyshow.com
Kenny Durkin: kennydurkin.com and @thekennydurkin on Instagram and @Durkinworks on Twitter