Software
Charles Carreon
Many businesses operate with bootleg software. My advice is, and I take it myself, — use open source software. I do most of my word processing in OpenOffice. I don't need the Bill Gates' “productivity model” any more than I need a good digital pain in the Aeron. Much as I dislike the Microsoft business model, I would not advise bucking their legal strategy. Given the aggressiveness of the software companies, and the increasing willingness of the federal government to go after software crackers, file sharers and other grey-marketeers, the legal risks stack up a great deal higher than the benefits.
Indeed, the question of what you can legally do with software you pay for will usually depend on the fine print you never read in the click-wrap agreement you are required to agree to when you load the software on your machine. You may have rights to install that software on multiple machines, but then again you may not. You may have the right to install the software on all machines that are in one business location, but you may not.
If your business is software-intensive, it behooves you to actually read those licensing agreements, and discuss the terms with competent legal counsel able to interpret them for you. Some of the most sophisticated legal and technical minds in the world are now working jointly to create anti-infringement mechanisms that are both lawful and technically draconian. For example, suppose you license some software that will manage a large database of financial transactions. The software works very well. But suppose it includes a provision requiring payment of yearly “licensing fees,” to keep the software active. Suppose that, instead of suing you for breach of contract for failing to pay the licensing fees, and trying to get you to stop using the software, the software maker simply introduced a code requiring confirmation that the licensing fee has been paid, and if it hasn't, the software seizes up, holding all of your financial data hostage. Neat trick, eh? It certainly is, and is even older than the Internet, having been pioneered as far as I know by Pakistani code-writers in the 70's to combat rampant software theft. Once the machine seizes up, it simply displays a message telling you to pay a license fee, or call the appropriate software company. And you better hope they are still in business.
Many businesses operate with bootleg software. My advice is, and I take it myself, — use open source software. I do most of my word processing in OpenOffice. I don't need the Bill Gates' “productivity model” any more than I need a good digital pain in the Aeron. Much as I dislike the Microsoft business model, I would not advise bucking their legal strategy. Given the aggressiveness of the software companies, and the increasing willingness of the federal government to go after software crackers, file sharers and other grey-marketeers, the legal risks stack up a great deal higher than the benefits.
Indeed, the question of what you can legally do with software you pay for will usually depend on the fine print you never read in the click-wrap agreement you are required to agree to when you load the software on your machine. You may have rights to install that software on multiple machines, but then again you may not. You may have the right to install the software on all machines that are in one business location, but you may not.
If your business is software-intensive, it behooves you to actually read those licensing agreements, and discuss the terms with competent legal counsel able to interpret them for you. Some of the most sophisticated legal and technical minds in the world are now working jointly to create anti-infringement mechanisms that are both lawful and technically draconian. For example, suppose you license some software that will manage a large database of financial transactions. The software works very well. But suppose it includes a provision requiring payment of yearly “licensing fees,” to keep the software active. Suppose that, instead of suing you for breach of contract for failing to pay the licensing fees, and trying to get you to stop using the software, the software maker simply introduced a code requiring confirmation that the licensing fee has been paid, and if it hasn't, the software seizes up, holding all of your financial data hostage. Neat trick, eh? It certainly is, and is even older than the Internet, having been pioneered as far as I know by Pakistani code-writers in the 70's to combat rampant software theft. Once the machine seizes up, it simply displays a message telling you to pay a license fee, or call the appropriate software company. And you better hope they are still in business.