In this blog post, we will examine the philosophical debate regarding the difference in value between the original and the copy in the age of technological reproduction and consider whether the intrinsic value of the original and the copy differs.
Since the Industrial Revolution, technological advancements have made mass production possible, resulting in a flood of countless “identical” items. Smartphones used by people are so identical that it is difficult to distinguish between models of the same type, and cars driving on the road all look the same if they are of the same model. Advances in biotechnology have made animal cloning a reality, and ethical and social debates regarding human cloning continue to this day. In this “age of technological replication,” it is becoming increasingly difficult to distinguish between originals and copies; indeed, the distinction itself is losing its meaning. So how should we evaluate the value of originals and copies? Are their values truly different?
To examine the difference in value between originals and copies, we can construct the following thought experiment. Suppose, as in the movie ‘The Matrix’, that you are currently living in a virtual reality and have come to realize that a “real” reality exists outside of it. And just as the protagonist Neo had to choose whether to go to the real world or remain in the Matrix—which he believed to be reality—if you were given the opportunity to choose between reality and virtual reality, which would you choose?
In this thought experiment, we make the following assumptions to examine the fundamental difference in value between the original and the copy. First, after the choice is made, the two worlds are completely identical. Second, once you choose one side, you forget your choice and come to believe that the world you are living in is the only reality. If you had to make a choice under these assumptions, which would you choose? I believe there is no objective criterion for choice in this situation. In other words, if reality and virtual reality are completely identical after the choice is made, the value of the two worlds at the time of choice is equal, and choosing one cannot be considered superior to choosing the other.
Some may raise objections to this view. Lee Somang argues in his essay that reality is more independent than virtual reality in terms of existence and purpose. A closer examination of her argument reveals that she maintains reality is ontologically independent—since virtual reality can only exist if reality exists—and that virtual reality is therefore subordinate to reality. She further argues that reality possesses intrinsic value because its purpose of existence lies within itself, whereas virtual reality, being a simulation of reality, derives its reason for existence from reality and has an external purpose, thus possessing extrinsic value. Furthermore, he argues that since virtual reality can be replaced at any time by a new, more advanced version, intrinsic value is superior to extrinsic value, and therefore reality is more valuable than virtual reality.
Two points can be raised regarding this argument. First, it is difficult to view the independence or dependence of existence as directly leading to a difference in value. In other words, the ontological independence of the original cannot be the factor that creates a difference in value between the original and the copy. For example, suppose a document is copied. The original is independent in terms of existence, while the copy can only exist if the original exists; however, this does not necessarily mean that the original is more valuable than the copy. In this case, since the content of the original and the copy is completely identical, there is no difference in value between the two, and there is no criterion for choice either.
Next, we can consider a counterexample to the claim that the purpose of virtual reality is subordinate to reality. For example, let’s imagine a situation where the Earth’s population has grown excessively, so scientists create another Earth that is completely identical to the current one to disperse the population, and half of humanity must migrate to that replicated Earth. Here, the replicated Earth can be viewed as the counterpart to virtual reality. Of course, the replicated Earth was modeled after the original Earth, but given that it was created for a purpose essential to human survival, it is difficult to view its purpose of existence as merely subordinate to that of the original Earth. In this case, the value of the replicated Earth can be seen as independent of and intrinsic to the original Earth.
Furthermore, when viewed from the perspective of the original and the copy, there are cases where the original’s purpose of existence is actually subordinate to that of the copy. For example, suppose AhnLab developed an antivirus program. The purpose of creating this antivirus is not only to remove viruses but also to distribute it to many users. In other words, this antivirus program only gains meaning when it can be replicated and distributed countless times. If the original program is not replicated and cannot be distributed to users, it effectively has no meaning. From this perspective, one could even argue that the original antivirus program exists for the sake of the copies.
To summarize the discussion, the ontological independence of the original cannot serve as a basis for establishing a difference in value between it and the copy, nor can we assume that the purpose of the copy’s existence is always subordinate to that of the original.
Let’s consider a situation where two people must each choose one of the original and one of the copies. If one person were the owner of the original, they would naturally be more likely to choose the original. However, here we assume that neither person is the owner of the original.
One might also question whether it is possible to distinguish between the original and the copy in the case of computer programs. Here, we define the first antivirus program developed as the original, and the antivirus programs subsequently downloaded and installed by users as copies. We will revisit the question of how far we can distinguish between the original and the copy later.
Some might argue that the value of the original lies not only in its independence of existence or purpose but also in the fact that it was created through a process of creation rather than reproduction, and therefore holds greater value than a copy. Let us now expand this thought experiment on reality and virtual reality into a more comprehensive discussion of originals and copies.
A closer examination of this discussion reveals the following. In his essay “The Work of Art in the Age of Mechanical Reproduction,” Walter Benjamin explains that the authority of the original—which brands the copy as a forgery—is precisely the “aura,” and that its origin lies in ritual. Here, one might argue that the reason ancient people sensed an aura in the statues used in rituals was due to a fear of the unknown—a fear stemming from their lack of sufficient knowledge about the statues. Similarly, one could argue that an aura exists in the original, and that this aura arises from humanity’s incomplete understanding of the origins of creation. Therefore, it can be argued that the original is more valuable than the copy precisely because of the aura inherent in the very fact of its creation.
The “unknown” referred to here can be seen as stemming from the ignorance of ancient people. For example, the belief that wood—which is used as firewood—gains divine power simply because it has been fashioned into an idol of a specific shape can be considered a phenomenon arising from human ignorance.
I, too, agree that people generally regard objects possessing an aura as more valuable. However, it is worth reconsidering whether the aura—which can be said to have arisen during the process of creation—actually resides in the process itself or in the resulting object.
In “The Work of Art in the Age of Mechanical Reproduction,” Walter Benjamin argues that mechanical reproduction has a different nature than reproduction done by hand. He further explains that technical reproduction mass-produces copies and brings them into the present, and that the social context—characterized by a desire to “draw things closer to oneself, both spatially and humanly”—and the attempt to overcome uniqueness through reproduction lead to the collapse of the aura.
The key point to note here is that the aura is not ontologically inherent in the original itself but is formed within people’s perceptions, and that the aura felt toward the original may fade over time. This discussion can be readily applied not only to works of art but also to other fields. In other words, one might argue that while people once perceived an aura in the original—the result of the creative process—due to the mystery inherent in that process, with the advent of the age of technical reproduction, they no longer perceive such an aura in the original itself.
Conversely, in modern society, new social institutions have been established to protect the creative acts of artists from indiscriminate reproduction. The copyright and patent systems are prime examples of this. Unlike in the era before technical reproduction, there is a growing tendency today for people to recognize greater value in the creative process itself rather than in the end product of that process.
Let’s revisit the example of the computer antivirus program mentioned earlier. If AhnLab had developed a paid antivirus program, the value of that development would be attributed to AhnLab, the developer, through copyright. In this case, although the original antivirus program was created through a creative process, if one were forced to choose between the original and a copy, there would be no reason to select the original, as both are completely identical in function and content.
In summary, the creative process can be assessed as having greater value than the process of reproduction, and in that sense, it can be viewed as possessing an “aura.” However, this difference in value inherent in the process does not directly translate into a difference in value between the original and the copy as end products.
Through the discussion so far, we have confirmed that in a situation where the original and the copy are completely identical, the fact that the original possesses independence of existence and purpose—which can be considered the most fundamental elements of its unique characteristics—and the fact that it underwent the formative process of creation alone are insufficient to create a difference in value between the two.
In modern society, replication technology has advanced significantly, making it possible to reproduce originals almost perfectly. Here, we assume a situation where, as in the thought experiment presented earlier, the original and the copy differ only in that one is the “original” and the other is the “copy,” while all other aspects are identical. Given this contemporary context, the conclusion suggested by the preceding discussion is that if the original and the copy are completely identical, the original cannot be considered to have greater value than the copy simply because it is the original; rather, the two objects must be evaluated equally.
Another issue worth considering is whether it is even possible to clearly define the original and the copy in the age of technological reproduction. For example, consider a fish-shaped bread machine. Carp-shaped buns are continuously produced using a single mold; can we call the first bun produced the “original” and the ones made afterward “copies”? The same applies to the antivirus program used as an example earlier. If identical programs are continuously generated from a single “mold”—the source code—is it truly possible to distinguish between the original and the copy?
In fact, in situations involving mass production, the boundary between the original and the copy is very vague, and depending on the circumstances, one might even argue that such a distinction does not hold at all. If we were to define the original and the copy, we could distinguish between them when there is an intent to copy an existing object; however, when there is no such intent, we cannot make that distinction, and in such cases, everything could be considered an original.
Looking again at the example of fish-shaped buns, when making them, the process does not involve copying or imitating the bun just made; rather, it simply involves using a pre-made mold to continuously produce identical buns. This is not an attempt to copy an existing bun but a process of continuously producing new items based on the same design. Therefore, even if a later-produced fish-shaped bun is identical to an earlier one, it is difficult to view it as a copy; rather, both could be considered originals.
The same applies to the example of antivirus software. If a developer, after completing the source code, generates a large number of installation files at once to install the software on multiple computers, this can be seen as an intent to produce multiple copies of the same program, rather than an intent to copy a previously created installation file. Therefore, in such cases, it is difficult to view this as copying.
On the other hand, when a user downloads a program from the AhnLab website to install antivirus software on their own computer, there is an intent to obtain a program identical to an existing antivirus program; therefore, this can be considered copying. Consequently, since the antivirus program example used earlier is based on the premise that the intent to copy exists, it is possible to distinguish between the original and the copy, and there is no contradiction in the logical reasoning.
