Why Open-Source Principles Aren't Always Obvious in Art


I love the free and open-source software (FOSS) community. The idea that code can be freely shared, studied, modified, and redistributed for the benefit of all is so impactful. But sometimes when I talk to others, especially artists, they’re puzzled. They might ask, "why would I want my art copied?" or they might argue, "my unique work is my livelihood."
Those points are more than fair. I think there’s a difference in how the software world and the art world often operate. Let’s think about why the principles found in free and open-source software aren’t as prevalent in traditional art.
Before I continue, I want to make it clear that I see a strong difference between consensual sharing and non-consensual scraping of data. I do not agree with art being used without permission. I’m more interested in the intentional opening up of artistic processes.
Uniqueness and Ownership
Traditionally, the art world has revolved around the concept of unique, original masterpieces. The value of a painting by a famous artist or a specific musical recording often comes from its scarcity and the connection to its creator.
Artists typically earn a living by selling their unique creations or by licensing the rights to their work. Copyright law is an important tool for artists to protect their intellectual property and ensure they are compensated for their labor and creativity. If a painting can be freely copied and distributed, its value to the artist diminishes.
The finished painting (or print, or song, etc.) is the primary product being sold or appreciated. Meanwhile, the artist's vision and the piece's aesthetic are central to its value.
Art is a deeply personal journey. Artists pour their soul into their work, and there's an understandable desire to control how it’s presented to the world.
Sharing the Recipe, Not Just the Cake
The open-source philosophy flips this around. While proprietary software aims to sell the finished, compiled program, creators of free and open-source software share the source code that went into making it.
In this philosophy, the value is in the ability for anyone to inspect the code, understand how it works, find and fix bugs, and contribute. A collective effort leads to a better product for everyone.
You might have heard that for FOSS, it’s free as in freedom, not free as in beer (though, most open-source software also comes with a zero price tag). Freedom means others can use, study, modify, and distribute the software. Many FOSS projects are sustained by companies offering services, support, or specialized features around the open-source core.
For many open-source developers, the elegance of the code itself, the design of a robust system, or the creation of a powerful tool is the artistic expression. And they want that "art" to be openly available for others to learn from and build upon.
Open-Source Principles in Art
There are significant economic and cultural differences between art and software. But let’s consider how some FOSS principles already enrich the art world, and what leaning further into them could do. Let’s not replace existing models, but explore new ones.
I’d like to promote the open sharing of things like the formulas for paints, the schematics for instruments, or the algorithms behind digital art software (for example: the code that generates a specific visual effect in a shader). I’m talking opt-in and artist-controlled. This could help people better understand and customize tools (even collectively improve them!). This is already a popular idea in DIY synth communities and in creative coding environments like Processing.
How about artists sharing “source files" of their digital works? Not the final compressed image, but the layered file, the raw audio tracks, or the 3D model. Others can respectfully "fork" these works, creating new interpretations, remixes, or derivative pieces, ideally with clear attribution to the original creator. I’m imagining a rich remix culture that is celebrated and legally recognized, rather than existing in a grey area. It’s important to establish community norms for attribution and to define exactly what "respectful forking" looks like. Creative Commons licenses are a great step in this direction. They allow artists to specify how their work can be shared and adapted.
I love it when artists document and share their creative processes. There’s power in sharing open "case studies" of artistic problem-solving. It inspires people and accelerates learning.
There are some benefits for the creator directly, too. Sharing can build a loyal community of fans and other creators. An artist who shares their techniques can earn a lot of respect in their niche. It opens up new ways to monetize, as well: artists can sell premium tutorials, personalized workshops, and more.
I see a trend that, as issues with AI-generated art continue to become a problem, an artist's unique process is becoming even more valuable. Openly sharing that journey is something an AI cannot replicate. If we rally around these ideas, we can create a deeper human connection.
I’m not advocating for forcing artists to give away their finished works for free. Their unique creations will always hold their own value. Instead, I’m excited about the potential future of a richer and more accessible creative ecosystem where the underlying process is collectively shared and improved. I’m excited about art continuing to find its own unique ways to embrace the beauty of open collaboration.
Subscribe to my newsletter
Read articles from Travis Horn directly inside your inbox. Subscribe to the newsletter, and don't miss out.
Written by

Travis Horn
Travis Horn
I have a passion for discovering and working with cutting-edge technology. I am a constant and quick learner. I enjoy collaborating with others to solve problems. I believe helping people achieve their goals helps me achieve mine.