AUGUST 10 — Welcome to the modern internet. A space where anyone can be a global creator, but protecting your work feels like a never-ending game of whack-a-mole.

Imagine spending hours scripting, shooting, and editing the perfect video. You finally hit “post”, go to sleep, and wake up to find your work went viral — except it wasn’t on your account. Someone else downloaded it, reposted it without credit, and is now racking up millions of views and cashing in on your hard work.

Social media has completely rewired how we communicate. Platforms like TikTok, YouTube, and Instagram have democratised creativity, allowing ordinary users to build massive communities and turn their digital footprints into real-world income. But this lightning-fast, frictionless sharing culture has birthed a massive problem. When a photo or video can be duplicated and sent across the globe in seconds, the line between “sharing” and “stealing” gets incredibly blurry. Here is a look at why copyright in the digital age is facing its biggest identity crisis yet — and why you should care.

The modern digital landscape is a minefield for content creators. The very tools that make it so easy to publish work also make it incredibly easy to exploit. One of the most glaring issues is the reposting epidemic. On platforms like TikTok and X, stolen content frequently outperforms the original. This strips creators of both their financial compensation and their well-deserved recognition, killing their motivation to keep producing.

Complicating this is the myth that if something is online, it must be free. We have raised a generation of internet users who operate under a simple, flawed assumption: if a picture or video is on the internet, it is public domain. This casual ignorance drives a massive amount of accidental copyright infringement. Adding gasoline to this intellectual property fire is the explosion of generative AI. AI models are trained on massive datasets scraped straight from the internet, almost always without the consent or compensation of the original artists and writers. This leaves the internet fiercely divided over whether AI-generated art is a miraculous new creation or just high-tech plagiarism.

Finally, to combat this rampant theft, platforms rely on automated systems like YouTube’s Content ID. However, algorithms lack nuance. They frequently misfire, automatically flagging and removing perfectly legal videos — like reviews or educational commentary protected under “fair use”. It turns out that when you remove human judgment from the equation, you create just as many problems as you solve.

The digital tug-of-war

Navigating this mess requires looking at the rulebook of the law and our collective moral compass of ethics. From a legal standpoint, the rules are technically clear. Laws like Malaysia’s Copyright Act 1987 grant creators the exclusive right to control and monetize their work. Thanks to international agreements, a video you upload in Kuala Lumpur is legally protected worldwide. But there is a massive catch when it comes to enforcement. Because digital content spreads rapidly and anonymously across borders, trying to enforce these laws is painfully slow, expensive, and often impossible for the average creator.

From an ethical perspective, copyright is about basic respect. It acknowledges the late nights and passion creators pour into their work, ensuring they get paid and are incentivised to keep making the internet a fun place to be.

However, there is a vocal counter-movement. Many argue that “information wants to be free”, suggesting that strict copyright laws just hold back public access to education and culture. Tech companies echo a similar sentiment, arguing that feeding publicly available data into their AI models is totally fair game. Creators, predictably, view it as blatant exploitation.

How do we fix the internet?

We cannot put the digital genie back in the bottle, but we can build a better ecosystem. Fixing this requires everyone to step up, starting with policymakers. Lawmakers need to wake up and write legislation that reflects how the internet actually works today, especially regarding AI data scraping and borderless sharing.

At the same time, social media giants must fix their algorithms. They need to refine their detection tools to stop penalising innocent creators while permanently booting serial content thieves, all while implementing real, human-reviewed appeal processes.

Education also plays a critical role in teaching digital respect. Schools need to prioritise digital literacy so that kids learn early on that downloading someone else’s art and calling it their own is wrong. This foundational knowledge can cultivate a much healthier internet culture. For those making things online, being proactive is key. Creators should use digital watermarks, state their licensing terms clearly, and keep original files to prove ownership.

Ultimately, the everyday user holds immense power in this equation. Being a better scroller simply means practicing basic digital etiquette. If you love a piece of content, share the original link instead of screen-recording it, and always tag and credit the original creator.

The bottom line

Copyright isn’t just some dusty legal concept reserved for corporate lawyers in boardrooms. It is the economic engine that allows your favourite YouTubers, artists, and writers to survive.

While social media has made it easier than ever to create, it has also amplified the risk of exploitation. Moving forward, the responsibility to protect creativity doesn’t just fall on lawmakers or tech billionaires — it falls on all of us. By giving credit where credit is due, we can help build an internet where art is both freely enjoyed and fiercely protected.

* The authors are from the Department of Science and Technology Studies, Faculty of Science, Universiti Malaya and can be reached via ista.ajib@um.edu.my.

** This is the personal opinion of the writers or publication and does not necessarily represent the views of Malay Mail.