Which of these do you believe is true?
As a student, you own every piece of software you write for course assignments. If the university wants to use that software in any way other than for giving you a grade, they need your permission: you can say "no" or ask for payment.
You own the software you write for course assignments as long as you do the work on your own computer. If you use a university's machines, they have an equal right to the software: you can continue developing it or sell it if you want, but they can too, and they don't need your permission.
If you are an undergraduate and paying fees to attend a university, you own the software you produce. If you are a graduate student being paid a stipend, on the other hand, the university owns what you produce.
If you a graduate student then you, your supervisor, and your university all have a right to what you produce.
The answer is, "It depends where you are." Different schools have different rules, even if they are in the same legal jurisdiction (i.e., the same country, state, or province). In fact, some universities' rules depend not only on who you are but on which faculty you are in.
The rules in industry are less complex—anything you do on company time or with company resources belongs to the company—but there are many gray areas. For example, I wrote some of the first drafts of this book on a company laptop while traveling for work. Does that mean I owe my former employer a share of the royalties?
Who owns what is just one of the rights that societies recognize. Others guaranteed by the Universal Declaration of Human Rights include the right to say what you want, the right to live free from fear, and the right to be treated the same way as everyone else regardless of your race, sex, orientation, religion, or disability. Most countries have signed this declaration, meaning that in theory at least, it has the force of law.
However, the phrase "in theory" is doing a lot of work in the previous paragraph. In practice, most societies still treat people unequally and unfairly; the question is, do we acknowledge that and try to fix it, or ignore it in the hope that when bad things happen, they'll only happen to other people? What's more, all of our rights have been profoundly affected by what software engineers have built. If the first rule of being compassionate is to do no harm, the first step in becoming a compassionate programmer is to learn what rights you and other people have.
Intellectual property (IP) is a catch-all term that covers four separate kinds of rights: copyrights, patents, trade secrets, and trademarks. Each of these has evolved over several centuries to address the economic and moral concerns of people powerful enough to influence law-making. What ties them together is that, compared with physical goods, information is expensive to produce but cheap to copy. IP exists to ensure that creators can earn enough from producing intangible goods that they can keep doing it. Each kind of IP therefore gives its holder a limited monopoly over some kind of information.
Copyrights apply to any original expression that anyone creates. While people can't (yet) own facts, they can own any representation of those facts that contains an element of creativity. As a result of this broad scope, there are several exceptions to copyright, making it the weakest protection available. When placed in the proper context, however, copyright is a powerful tool for IP protection.
Patents apply to inventions, technological improvements, certain designs, business methods, and a few other things. They grant a monopoly—the right to exclude others from using the patented idea—for a fixed period of time (usually twenty years). Since the right is stronger, the requirements for obtaining a patent are more stringent: it can take years, hundreds of pages of paperwork, and thousands of dollars to secure one.
Patents are intended to be a bargain between the inventor and the public: the inventor discloses how the invention works (so that other people can learn from) and in exchange society ensures that she is the only one who can profit from it for a reasonable time. If an inventor doesn't want anyone to know how her invention works she can treat it as a trade secret. This isn't a property right as such, but rather the practice of relying on things like non-disclosure agreements (NDA) to keep something secret. There is less risk of someone being inspired by your idea to create something better, but if the idea does leak, the inventor has less legal protection.
Finally, trademarks allow people to tell whether a product is authentic or not. Given that everyone has limited time in which to make decisions, a brand name acts as a form of mental shorthand: if company XYZ has a reputation for high quality or low prices, or if a particular medication has been proven to be effective against an ailment like heart disease, the name itself has commercial value.
A license dictates how project materials can be used and redistributed. If the license or a publication agreement makes it difficult for people to contribute, the project is less likely to attract new members, so the choice of license is crucial to the project's long-term sustainability.
Every creative work automatically has some sort of license; the only question is whether authors and users know what it is and choose to enforce it. Choosing a license for a project can be complex, not least because the law hasn't kept up with everyday practice; [Lindberg2008] is a good exploration of these issues if you want details. Depending on country, institution, and job role, most creative works are automatically eligible for intellectual property protection. However, members of the team may have different levels of copyright protection. For example, students and faculty may have a copyright on the research work they produce, but university staff members may not, since their employment agreement may state that what they create on the job belongs to their employer.
To avoid legal messiness, every project should include an explicit license. This license should be chosen early, since changing a license can be complicated. For example, each collaborator may hold copyright on their work and therefore need to be asked for approval when a license is changed. Similarly, changing a license does not change it retroactively, so different users may wind up operating under different licensing structures.
Leave it to the professionals
Don't write your own license. Legalese is a highly technical language, and words don't mean what you think they do. What's more, it's often hard to understand the interactions between multiple licenses on different kinds of material [Almeida2017].
Just as the project's Code of Conduct is usually placed in a root-level file
CONDUCT.md, its license is usually put in
a file called
LICENSE.md that is also in the
project's root directory. To make license selection for code as easy as
possible, GitHub allows us to select one of several common software licenses
when creating a repository. Unfortunately, their list does not include common
licenses for data or written works like papers and reports.
The Open Source Initiative maintains a list of open licenses, and choosealicense.com will help us find a license that suits our needs. In order to choose the right one, we need to understand the difference between two kinds of license. The MIT License and its close sibling the BSD License say that people can do whatever they want to with the software as long as they cite the original source, and that the authors accept no responsibility if things go wrong. The GNU Public License (GPL) gives people similar rights, but requires them to share their own work on the same terms:
You may copy, distribute and modify the software as long as you track changes/dates in source files. Any modifications to or software including (via compiler) GPL-licensed code must also be made available under the GPL along with build and install instructions.
In other words, if someone modifies GPL-licensed software or incorporates it into their own project, and then distributes what they have created, they have to distribute the source code for their own work as well.
The GPL was created to prevent companies from taking advantage of open software without contributing anything back. The last thirty years have shown that this restriction isn't necessary: many projects have survived and thrived without this safeguard. We therefore recommend that projects choose the MIT license, as it places the fewest restrictions on future action.
The Hippocratic License is a newer license; where the GPL requires people to share their work, the Hippocratic License requires them to do no harm. More precisely, it forbids people from using the software in ways that violate the Universal Declaration of Human Rights. We have learned the hard way that software and science can be mis-used; adopting the Hippocratic License is a small step toward preventing this.
What they really mean (part two)
Just as some people in open source argued against codes of conduct ten years ago, some now argue that the Hippocratic License isn't a real open source license because of its "do no harm" requirement or because the Open Source Initiative hasn't approved it. The first argument ignores the fact that many other licenses put restrictions on use; the second argument is like saying, "It wasn't recorded in Nashville so it's not a real country song." As with arguments against codes of conduct, what people are usually revealing is that they prefer a world in which programmers don't have to take responsibility for how the things they build are used, and would rather not have anyone set a precedent to the contrary.
The MIT license, the GPL, and the Hippocratic License are intended for use with software. When it comes to data and reports, the most widely used family of licenses are those produced by Creative Commons. These have been written and checked by lawyers and are well understood by the community.
The most liberal option is referred to as CC0 where the "0" stands for "zero restrictions". This puts work in the public domain, i.e., allows anyone who wants to use it to do so however they want with no restrictions. CC0 is usually the best choice for data, since it simplifies aggregate analysis involving datasets from different sources.
The next step up is the Creative Commons--Attribution license, usually referred to as CC-BY. This allows people to do whatever they want to with the work as long as they cite the original source. This is the best license to use for papers and report, since you want people to share them widely but also want to get credit for your work.
Other Creative Commons licenses incorporate various restrictions, and are usually referred two using the two-letter abbreviations listed below:
NC (no commercial use) does not mean that people cannot charge money for something that includes our work, though some publishers still try to imply that in order to scare people away from open licensing. Instead, the NC clause means that people cannot charge for something that uses our work without our explicit permission, which we can give under whatever terms we want. (We use the CC-BY-NC license for this work.)
ND (no derivative works) prevents people from creating modified versions of our work. Unfortunately, this also inhibits translation and reformatting.
SA (share-alike) requires people to share work that incorporates ours on the same terms that we used. Again, it is fine in principle but in practice makes aggregation and recombination difficult.
Why be open?
[Hippel2006] reports that 85% of all interesting innovations in all industries come not from the suppliers but from the users. The more open work is, the better able users are to tinker with it and do things that the first contributors would never have thought of trying.