In the eighteenth-century, printing was incredibly expensive. Laying out individual pages was a labor-intensive process, and the material cost of paper itself was prohibitively high. Publishing pamphlets, books, magazines, and newspapers required significant capital. In order to raise that capital, aspiring writers (or editors) had three options:
1. Personal Wealth: The publishing world was dominated by independent individuals who had sufficient funding to print their own material. Personal wealth was the defining characteristic of successful authors. Either that or:
2. Patronage: Those without the cash to publish needed to curry favor with those who did. Thus an emergent patronage system, wherein publishing power shifted from authors to moneyed, detached observers.
3. Subscription: As an alternative to single sources of funding, would-be publishers shopped their material “door-to-door,” asking for monetary support in exchange for a final copy. By targeting high probability investors, those who would be interested in reading the publication themselves, publishers improved their odds.
Note: I learned all this yesterday. Take it easy print culture experts.
It seems as though the print-to-digital transition has dragged us back to the eighteenth-century. Ironically, digital publishing demands substantial capital investments. While it’s still possible for small-time bloggers to hit it big or start-up magazines to go viral, without a pool of resources success is unlikely. And that’s not even countenancing the argument that activities like blogging or starting twee magazines require #1, personal wealth. That is, upper-middle-classness. Patronage is a common scenario, insofar as large media conglomerates snap up small publications before they can pose a threat. The web publishing space is so crowded, so saturated, that competition without patronage or the connections that personal wealth entails is hopelessly fierce. Contrary to popular belief, the web has killed the indie. Or at least the indie in its sincerest form. So what’s the problem? As the web appears to have become more open, more democratic, it has become more difficult for individuals to reach either their target demographics or a mass audience. Institutional authority has interrupted the natural dialectic of narrative and counter-narrative.
Digital publishing should turn towards subscription-based models. Subscription models maintain fair prices and allow for the democratic selection of content. In effect, subscriptions are a positive rephrasing of paywalls: they empower the consumer with the choice of what kind of content production to support.
The really exciting potential for subscription models, as in the eighteenth-century, is book publishing. If extended to e-books, the subscription model promises to improve the efficiency of publishing by cutting out losing titles. The minimal material costs of e-book publishing, along with relatively lower labor costs, enhance the allure of subscriptions. Already, the risk to publishers of e-book only titles is slim, especially if author advances remain low. Offering subscriptions on e-book only titles would guarantee profit.
In the 21st century, digital publishing is not incredibly expensive. Rather, it’s close to risk free, assuming that contracts with authors are realistic and a subscription model is employed.
