On Sharing Your Toys

When I was young (until I was seven or eight) I had a pronounced problem. It's a problem I still wrestle with today, to be honest. I like my stuff. It was mine. MINE! It still is mine. And I don't want you to touch it. I don't want you to play with it. I don't want your grubby, greasy hands on it (no offense).

But through repeated correction from loving parents I slowly learned that we share. What a strange concept, sharing. Why should I let someone else use my things?

As I stated emphatically above, they belong to me. It's clearly not based on reciprocity. Mom made me share my stuff with everyone, whether they were sharing with me or not. Why the diatribe on sharing?

I promise it's not a twisted scheme to end two paragraphs with questions. I read an article on Wired.com that brought this particular childhood memory to my mind. An International Trade Commission judge has recently ruled the Microsofts Xbox 360 should be banned from sale in the United States because it violates several patents owned by Motorola Mobility. In a separate decision, the ITC banned all Motorala smartphones and tablets from being sold in the United States because the violate Microsoft patents. I'll wait while you read the last two sentences again.

Now the odds are good that Microsoft and Motorola Mobility (soon to be owned by Google, the plot thickens) will reach an agreement and license these patents from each other, but the potential exists for these two barely-intersecting technology companies to do irreperable damage to each other. They're not the only ones, either. Apple/Motorola and Google/Oracle are two of the biggest patent cases that are currently ongoing that could end up costing a significant percentage of these companies profits.

I have no intention of trying to uncover these corporations motivations, or (Heaven help us) try to explain the cases I mentioned. I just want to say one thing. Don't these people seem petty? Don't you see the picture in your head? Pairs of petulant children trying to snatch their toys back from each other as the kick and scream and pull each others hair? You know what happened when that was me? My backside still stings.

 

Andrew

Reading: Little Fuzzy, H. Beam Piper. Page 11 of 154