making—at least, I haven’t seen it, though it may well be that I just missed it—software provision and delivery. Folks my age or so remember installing software from floppy disk. Toward the end of the floppy’s reign as commonest digital storage medium, maybe something like twenty disks? Or even upwards of fifty, I seem to recall? And it was ridiculous. So we eventually switched to CDs, and it helped… for a while, until we needed DVDs to handle the bloat. But the software-on-DVD era didn’t last real long, because Internet bandwidth caught up to the point where it was cheaper and easier and more convenient to download software than get it on a physical carrier. … Is this starting to sound familiar? Yeah, okay, I thought maybe. Anyone who’s rolled their eyes at a content license that makes us PRINT STUFF OUT for patrons, it’s the same idea, they make us do it because it’s vastly less convenient. But looking back at software, the interesting thing is, we didn’t end up with a software monoculture because of this shift. There’s quite a few business models that turn out to more or less work even when no physical carrier is involved. *CLICK* Take software-as-a-service. Physical carrier? The buyer doesn’t get one. The way that works is, we decide that we don’t need the thing, where “thing” might mean “software disk” or it might mean “server,” we just need what the thing can do. This is a model for sharing that we’re seeing, things like DeepDyve and whatever that weird Wiley thing is that isn’t downloading actual PDFs, and we can and do argue about the pitfalls here, but best I can tell, in some situations this sharing model is working, at least for somebody. *CLICK* And then there’s open source software, and the way that works is, some of us can make the thing for all of us. We don’t actually NEED to restrict access to the thing to be able to make the thing. Does open source always work? Nope. Do not get me onto the topic of DSpace; my feelings about it are not family-friendly. Does open source work? Yep, quite often it does. One, it’s totally possible to make money without restricting the source, and two, excuse me for being idealistic here, but sometimes making money isn’t actually the point. And then there’s the app economy on mobile, and to me that is the scary warning, the outcome we DO NOT WANT. You can’t find anything you need in iTunes or the Android store. There’s a lot of skulduggery behind the scenes, fake or lookalike apps or fool-your-children in-app purchases or whatever. Everybody wants everything for free, which turns out to feed the skulduggery, and NOBODY likes the system except Apple and Google who make fat rents off it. Heck with that. If high-priced walled gardens with lousy lazy gardeners are the future of sharing, include me OUT. So, rant over, here’s where I’m going with this: We in libraries have choices about the business models we sustain. I know those choices are constrained by the patron bases we serve, but they ARE nonetheless choices. Part of the reason I’m asking you to communicate out about the choices you’re making every day—listen up, I’m telling you my evil supervillain plan here—I want you to communicate out partly because it forces YOU to confront the larger, systemic implications of your day-to-day choices. This can be an uncomfortable thing to do. I know that. But it’s important if we’re to move toward a world that competes—LEGALLY—with Sci-Hub. And that’s the world I personally want, out of all the possible worlds we could achieve at this Sci- Hub-inflected crossroads.