There's been an undeclared guerrilla war going on for several decades between UK publishers and Australian publishers. Like most wars, it's being fought for the financial gains that go with territorial rights; unlike most wars, however, the aggressors have never tried to clothe their naked self-interest with ethical rhetoric. They've simply planted their flags in foreign lands because they can.
The problem starts in the United States, the home of much of the best writing in the English-speaking book world. When US publishers or literary agents seek to sell English-language rights to their authors' books, they usually look first to the UK, which has a domestic market of 60 million people -- and access to many more. Although the UK is very choosy about what it wants, this is where the big bucks are.
The trouble is that UK publishers have almost always insisted, when they acquire domestic rights, that so-called 'Commonwealth' rights -- that part of the globe which used to be coloured red -- be included. They've even tended to refuse to consider buying rights in books that originate in Australia.
Why? Because Australia is a highly profitable market for UK publishers. They usually don't have to pay for the Commonwealth component when they acquire the rights; they get to pay the authors what are called 'export royalties' (which are around half of what are known as 'home royalties); and they sometimes sell more copies here than they do in their own country. They don't even have to publish the books here -- simply distributing moderate quantities is still money for jam. The disproportionate profits go straight to their bottom lines, and help prop up their own ailing industry. This is rent-seeking and coupon-clipping on a grand scale.
It's a wonderful rort, and it's been going on for a long time. And the UK publishers protect it fiercely: if Australian publishers want to acquire rights to such books from the US (which requires what is known as 'rights splitting'), the default position of UK houses is that they will then refuse to offer for UK rights. This is blackmail, to put it bluntly, and it usually works. Faced with the prospect of potentially losing a largeish UK deal over a small-to-middling ANZ deal, US publishers and agents -- and their UK rights agents -- have tended to fold and to cede the territory.
The UK houses are unapologetic about their behaviour. If pressed, they will simply aver that Australia is very important to them financially. This is certainly true, but that doesn't make it edifying or defensible. It's akin to nineteenth-century plantation owners claiming that slaves are essential to the profitable operation of their enterprises.
In recent years, despite the continuation of neo-colonial rule from London, an insurgency has emerged: Australian publishing has developed a rights-buying culture. Many houses, large and small, now look to acquire local rights in US titles. (Our own company has been prominent in this area.) Often, the books they're interested in are of relatively little interest to UK houses; but, equally often, the UK refuses to abandon its hard-line position, because it doesn't want to set an unwelcome precedent.
Every day of every week, Australian publishers offer for US books, only to hear that the publishers are holding out for a UK deal, or that the UK has already 'pre-empted' (made a knock-out offer for UK and Commonwealth rights that includes Australian rights). Sometimes the wait lasts for months -- and there's no UK bid forthcoming.
The galling thing is that Australia often understands US books better than UK publishers do -- and that, when Australian houses do manage to acquire local rights, they often publish the books with verve and commercial success. They print substantial quantities, publicise the books professionally (sometimes bringing the author out for a publicity tour), and often create a market for an author that would otherwise never have existed. And they do this while paying a market price for the rights, and higher, domestic royalties to the US publishers and their authors.
Word of these successes has started to seep out more and more in the US publishing community. More US publishers and agents are nowadays prepared to split rights, and some UK houses, under this market-place pressure, are being forced to give ground: they will now acquire some books even after Australian rights have gone, and sometimes they find themselves forced to pay domestic royalty rates as the price of retaining their entitlement to Australian rights.
Nevertheless, it remains the case that most UK publishers regard themselves as entitled to Australia as a territory, and refuse to cede the ground. I'm convinced that they don't understand the bitterness and deep resentment, bordering on fury, that this stance is arousing in Australian publishing. It is a refrain I hear constantly, whether I'm talking to colleagues in multinational houses or to fellow independents. There is no question in my mind that the UK's position is not sustainable.
I understand very well that the UK book trade is in a sorry state, and that UK houses have come to rely on Australia to subsidise their often-marginal domestic operations. (It may even be the case that, without this subsidy, they'd be forced to resist the punitive discounts that they're having to offer large retail chains.)
But we must put out own interests first. As in all neo-colonial enterprises, UK publishers, by protecting their own financial interests, are holding up the development of Australian publishing and the Australian book trade in general. To the extent that they prevent Australian publishing houses from reaching their potential, they weaken the financial base of our industry, and even the prospects of local authors.
UK publishers are not entitled to Australia as a territory. It is our country, our market, and our industry. They should either pay for it on the same terms and conditions that we do -- and then make professional use of the publishing rights they acquire -- or else bugger off and let us get on with it.
Henry Rosenbloom
[A slightly modified version of this piece first appeared in the Age on 24 March 2008, under the heading ‘Brits in the bad books’.]