Jungle Fever

Monumental shifts in publishing history are often labelled after those commercially involved — think Gutenberg’s Revolution, The Penguin Era. In years to come, when the present book market is periodised it will be, surely, the Age of Amazon. Romantics may dismiss this statement as apocalyptic, but the fact is that Amazon is synonymous with modern book culture, and has changed the way we think about reading. As the company celebrates its 20th birthday, debate about its merits is intensifying, starting in the US and spreading worldwide. For those in the traditional publishing business, Amazon is a ruthless tycoon with a market monopoly. For the increasing wave of self-publishing authors, the company is seen as a liberator, enlightening traditionalists to ebooks, self-publication and the way of the future. But what exactly is Amazon’s role in this particular cycle of technological change? And should we condone it?

Hugh Howey certainly thinks so. Last month the self-publishing success story (and author of the sci-fi Wool trilogy) published a report that made controversial claims about the “publication revolution”. Howey is a long-time critic of the low share of profits given to authors in the traditional publishing model; his own novels were published through Amazon’s Kindle Direct Publishing system. Using data from Amazon’s ebook sales in the genres of thriller, science fiction and romance, his research proposes that indie authors are outselling contemporaries published by the “big five” (Hachette, HarperCollins, Macmillan, Simon & Schuster, and Penguin Random House). In his call-to-arms against traditional publishers, Howey sees Amazon as a fairer alternative. Speaking to The Guardian, he outlined what he sees as Amazon’s “guiding philosophy”: “They view writers as both partners and customers, not as acquisitions… That philosophy can go a very long way. This should be a happy and bloodless revolution. It can be.”

One can certainly see where Howey is coming from. Anyone can become a published author thanks to Amazon Publishing; the process is free, and writers keep up to 70% royalties. And for readers, buying books has never been easier. Thanks to the website’s “1-Click” purchase option, it takes the same amount of effort to purchase a book as it does to “like” a photo on Facebook. And of course, most significantly, ebooks are cheap — many sell for a couple of euros. The extremely low cost, however, is where the idyllic image starts to waver. According to the website, Direct Publishing authors decide the “list price” for their books, but Amazon retains “sole and complete discretion to set the retail customer price at which… Digital Books are sold through the Program”. And, given that they call themselves “Earth’s most customer-centric company”, those prices will doubtlessly be low. Writers are free to put their work out there, but they must subject to Amazon’s authority. This seems reasonable enough; they are a business after all—but it reminds us of exactly that. Amazon is a corporation, not a selfless facilitator of a symbiotic reader-writer relationship.

“For those in the traditional publishing business, Amazon is a ruthless tycoon with an oppressive market monopoly. For the increasing wave of self-publishing authors, the company is seen as a liberator, enlightening traditionalists to ebooks, self-publication and the way of the future.” 

On the same day George Packer released a 12,000-word study of Amazon in the New Yorker, and appeared to be describing a totally different corporation. Instead of the liberating platform for the circulation of ideas that Howey depicts, Packer’s Amazon is a mercenary operation. They make up 65% of the ebook sales, and sell at extremely low prices to maintain a market monopoly, forcing other booksellers out of business. Their efforts to satisfy the customer by providing them with as many products as possible, as quickly and as cheaply as possible, have devalued writing itself. “Readers,” he declares, “are being conditioned to think that books are worth as little as a sandwich.”

There is much to be gleaned from Packer’s fascinating 12,000-word report. It reminds us that, although their marketing would have us believe otherwise, Amazon is not merely a helpful service provider. Inspired by the piece, John Naughton noted in The Observer that we distrust offline business tycoons, but when it comes to Google, Facebook and Amazon, their seemingly friendly online equivalents, “it seems that we cannot get enough of the ‘free’ services that they offer.” In fact, he went on, “they are as hostile to trade unions, taxation and regulation as John D Rockefeller, JP Morgan and Andrew Carnegie ever were in their day.”

When it comes to self-publishing Packer’s most alarming point is that, for Amazon, editing and publishing are one and the same, both equally dispensable. “Disintermediation” (the industry term for their philosophy) denotes the elimination of editors, publishers, and all processing between writer and reader — the removal of the middle man, which is just what Howey calls for. However, whether writers like it or not, either in print or digital media, it cannot be denied that even good writing benefits from good editing. In fact Howey acknowledges this, and says he is not looking for a “permanent break” from the publishing industry, just a reshaping of the publisher-writer relationship.

Editorial involvement is even more important in the world of ebooks. Walking into a bookshop, customers can know that the products on offer are at least worth enough to have been printed, bound and shipped. When almost any book in existence is literally one click away, readers want a bit of guidance.  In theory, self-publishing could well be a positive step, but only if readers can still be sure that someone besides the author can vouch for what they are about to buy. If at least a certain degree of editing cannot be guaranteed, readers will be forced to think of ebooks as manuscripts. And indeed, if a self-published ebook is successful it is often picked up and reissued by a publisher; this turns the ebook readership sort of pilot audience for submissions. Customers want some critical direction — not condescending Bloomsbury-types to tell them what they should read, but someone who will sift through the myriads of manuscripts so that they don’t have to. This assurance — exactly what Amazon’s free-for-all model is lacking — is the most valuable kind of customer service.

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