Originally published in Linux User and Developer
License
One recurring question of Linux development and the open source development model in general is that of remuneration. How does one get paid for the generous work generally volunteered toward a free software project?
There are many models proposed for guaranteeing some financial support for those wishing to work full-time. There's patronage. This is where the Crown Prince of Bavaria, say, gives Linus Torvalds a castle and a moat, and bids him to write code for the pleasure of the court, or else be thrown in the dungeon with those BSD mongrels. Linus goes on to create great works, often prefaced with a large set of logon messages in praise of his honoured patron, only to die later in poverty following some dismissive comments he includes in a kernel driver about the CEO of OSDN's mistresses' pet lioness.
Critics of patronage point out to live on the whims of a distant, self-involved elite is a demeaning life for Linux programmers, reminiscent as it is of both medieval surfdom and being a mere Linux user, both of which being horrid epochs that as a civilisation we imagine we have transcended.
Another possibility, at one stage I believe semi-seriously proposed by Richard M Stallman, is a "software tax": a government program to provide the basic infrastructure of society by funding open source development out of public funds. Indirectly, of course, this is what many of our university computer science departments do now, along of course with their generous financial support of the brewery, cigarette paper and Pot Noodle industries.
Unfortunately, a Ministry of Hacking has many obstacles to overcome. Many of our American cousins would believe that the is nothing less than communism, and would lead to gun control, socialised medicine, and publically-subsidised firemen. In Britain, while a Code Dole would have some appeal, many government offices require you to sign on at unfeasibly early hours of the afternoon, which would make the whole process so unpleasant to many hackers that they might simply not bother and die of poverty and neglect.
Both of these concepts assume that financial aid for open source coders need come from outside. But geeks are not helpless, and full of ideas and creativity. Might not we, in some way be able to temporarily disengage our mighty brains from finding a better way to sort alphanumeric lists, and imagine a way of general earning money for ourselves?
In the past, such a gargantuan and uncharacteristic act of concentration has produced mixed results. Many software projects have temporarily attempted to live off Google Adsense earnings. As it transpires, the number of adverts targetted at people wanting to browse CVS repositories is not enormous, and once all your readers have clicked on the "Visit Ebay, Where We have Thousands of CVS Repositories For Sale!" advert, revenue pretty much dries up.
Thinking more laterally, many geeks have come up with ingenious, but perhaps unrealistic projects. Downloaders can pay to have a CD of sources delivered by a naked singing "Fat Bearded Guy A Gram". Or costs can be defrayed until the senior developer's designs for a space elevator provide enough Helium-3 sales to pay off the bank loan.
More prosaic is the crazy, mind-boggling possibility of "keeping the day job". Again, when Richard M. Stallman was once asked how might programmers earn a living if all software was free, he replied with words to the effect that he had always considered waiting tables to be fine and noble practice. Audiences at the time jeered his words: but stayed to marvel as RMS demonstraterd Meta-X-silver-service, an Emacs keyboard macro that mystically served a fine Filet Mignon Garnished with Scallops, Asparagus Spears & Sauce Bearnaise service to a random stranger, who then provided Mr Stallman with a fine, fine tip.
Finally, there's the Street Performer Protocol, the system devised by John Kelsey and Bruce Schneier for funding creative projects in the absence of traditional intellectual property rights. In this system, a work such as a novel or piece of software is effectively "ransomed" - given to a publisher with the understanding that it would be released to the wider public when, and only when, they pay a certain amount.
The Street Performer Protocol was first suggested in 1999, but has had surprisingly little take-up. In fact, was originally devised in early 1972, but the authors refused to publish it until they were given a million dollars and a plane to Rio de Janeiro. Negotiations with the public at large stalled until, in the desperate act which gave the protocol its name, Schneier and Kelsey travelled to the Edinburgh Fringe and took hostage over thirty clowns, mimes and magicians who they found performing outside Waverley Station.
They later released a cryptographically-signed note declaring that unless a prominent academic journal picked up their financing proposal, they would utterly neglect to kill a street performer on the hour, every hour.
Within fifteen minutes, the people of Edinburgh had paid First Monday, an online journal, close to five thousand dollars to publish the entire work. Schneier and Kelsey were remunerated, a publisher provided with their financial model, and Edinburgh was rid of pantaloon-wearing drama students forever.
Such innovative and creative solutions are badly needed if we are to truly create a world in which programmers can work on improving Linux full-time while still being able afford to feed their children - children who will grow up knowing a clown-free world. The Street Performer Protocol is available at: http://www.firstmonday.org/issues/issue4_6/kelsey/ and my Paypal account is danny@spesh.com. I'll start with the jugglers in Cambridge's town center.