🍻 Selber Bier Brauen

Imagine a Western head of government sanctioning the attorney general and judges of the supreme court because they have brought criminal proceedings against his party colleagues. He has their assets seized, their bank accounts frozen, and their freedom of movement restricted. He prohibits national companies from doing business with the sanctioned individuals, including their family members. A fundamental attack on the separation of powers and the work of the judiciary? Yes! Unimaginable? Unfortunately, no!

This is precisely what the Trump administration has now done with the leadership of the Office of the Prosecutor (OTP) and six judges of the International Criminal Court (ICC). The sanctions were imposed by Presidential Executive Order 14203 (“EO”) on February 6, 2025.¹⁾ It was initially limited to (then) Chief Prosecutor Karim Khan (currently on leave), but was expanded by Secretary of State Marco Rubio²⁾ to four judges³⁾ on June 5, 2025, and to the two deputy prosecutors⁴⁾ and two other judges⁵⁾ on August 20, 2025. Furthermore, there is the threat of institutional sanctions against the ICC, which, although so far unsuccessful at the legislative level in the US Senate at the beginning of the year (“Illegitimate Court Counteraction Act”),⁶⁾ can be taken up again by Congress at any time or ordered by a new EO. The ICC, too, therefore needs a kind of “Judicial Resilience Project” against the threat of right-wing populism,⁷⁾ but at the supranational level.

Justification for the sanctions

The sanctions are justified on the grounds that the ICC, through the aforementioned individuals, has initiated investigations “without a legitimate basis” against US personnel and “certain of its allies“⁸⁾ – so-called “protected persons”⁹⁾ – and that this “malign conduct” by this “bankrupt institution” violates the sovereignty of the US and undermines its national security. Specifically, the sanctioned individuals are allegedly “directly engaged in any effort by the ICC to investigate, arrest, detain, or prosecute a protected person without consent of that person’s country of nationality” (Section 1(a)(ii)(A) EO 14203). However, apart from Israel, no US allies are mentioned, and in fact, at the time the EO was issued, the only proceedings still ongoing were those in the “Situation in the State of Palestine”, which on November 21, 2024, led to the issuance of (unpublished) arrest warrants against Israeli Prime Minister Netanyahu and then-Defense Minister Gallant (as well as three Hamas leaders who have since been killed).

In contrast, Prosecutor Khan had already limited the investigations in the Afghanistan proceedings to the Taliban¹⁰⁾ on September 27, 2021, and effectively discontinued (“deprioritised”) them with regard to US citizens. This means that there are currently no investigations whatsoever against US citizens. The sanctioning of the aforementioned individuals can thus, apart from the Trump administration’s ideological hostility toward the ICC as a representative of international (criminal) law accountability, only be explained by the Israel/Palestine/Gaza investigations. This is further evidenced by the (additional) sanctioning of the UN Special Rapporteur on Palestine, Francesca Albanese, by Secretary of State Rubio on July 9, 2025.

Only Prosecutor Khan (and his two deputies since his leave) and Judges Alapini Gansou, Guillou, and Hohler (as members of the Pre-Trial Chamber that issued the above-mentioned arrest warrants) have been involved in the Israel/Palestine investigations to date. The other sanctioned judges (Balungi Bossa, Ibáñez Carranza, and Prost) authorized, as part of the Appeals Chamber – alongside the now-retired (and unsanctioned) judges Hofmánski and Morrison –, the Afghanistan investigation on March 5, 2020. This makes the US government’s sanctions strategy clear: only judges who are still active and those who, as part of the Appeals Chamber, authorized the original Afghanistan investigations (including US citizens in addition to the Taliban, among others) should be sanctioned, but not all judges involved in the Afghanistan proceedings (such as Italian judge Aitala, who played a key role in the PreTrial Chamber II’s decision on April 12, 2019 declining to authorize the investigation).

The US government is therefore solely concerned with protecting its own nationals and those of allied States (Israel), not with ICC proceedings in general. As long as these are directed against adversaries or enemies of the US (Taliban) or Israel (Hamas), the US government has no problem with the ICC’s alleged “overreach.” But when the law is to be enforced against the US or its friends, the court itself becomes the enemy. These double standards are not new; they can also be observed in the so-called war on drugs: while the Trump administration extrajudicially executes alleged “narco-terrorists” in the Caribbean (for evidence of the clear violation of international law, see here, here, and also here), it simultaneously pardons the former president of Honduras, Juan Orlando Hernández, who had previously been sentenced to 45 years in prison by an US court in a fair trial for, inter alia, drug trafficking.

Sanctions with grave consequences

A designated person and their family members are prohibited from traveling to the United States. All of their property and property interests located in the United States, or in the possession or control of U.S. persons, are blocked and must be reported to the Office of Foreign Assets Control (OFAC) of the U.S. Department of the Treasury. In addition, all natural or legal persons that are directly or indirectly owned, individually or in the aggregate, 50 percent or more by one or more blocked persons are themselves blocked. All transactions by U.S. persons, or within (or transiting) the United States, that involve property or property interests of designated or otherwise blocked persons are prohibited, unless authorized by a general or specific OFAC license or covered by an applicable exemption. These prohibitions include the provision or supply of funds, goods, or services by, to, or for the benefit of any sanctioned person and the receipt of any contribution or provision of funds, goods, or services from any such person (see also Galbraith and Hovell).

However, these are only the primary effects of the sanctions, also known as primary sanctions. Secondary sanctions can be even more serious. They extend beyond US territory and US citizens and companies, i.e., they have an extraterritorial and global effect. Sometimes they are also a consequence of overcompliance, which at the same time demonstrates the chilling effect of the primary sanctions. By way of example, a European bank based in the EU, which is not itself directly subject to the sanctions, terminates the account of a sanctioned person because it fears negative consequences for its U.S. business. Two of the six judges involved have commented publicly on the concrete effects of the sanctions: the French judge Guillou (here) and the Canadian judge Prost (here and here). Beyond the ban on entry into the US, they report that from one day to the next they could no longer receive goods, services, or funds from US companies (e.g., Amazon, Airbnb, PayPal, Visa, Master Card), along with indirect (secondary) effects on transactions with European companies as well, such as their domestic bank or a travel company. Similar accounts were given by UN Special Rapporteur Albanese during a hearing in the Italian Senate; at the same time, the manager of her Italian “Banca Etica” (!) regretted that he had to close her account and asked politicians to take countermeasures.

On the EU’s (possible) countermeasures

In order to avoid such (extraterritorial) effects, the EU previously issued – in connection with US sanctions against Cuba and Iran – a so-called blocking regulation (Regulation 2271/96 of November 29, 1996), which prohibits EU “persons” (natural and legal persons, Art. 11) from complying with such sanctions. In a landmark decision of December 21, 2021 (“Bank Melli Iran v. Telekom Deutschland GmbH”)¹¹⁾, the European Court of Justice (ECJ, Grand Chamber) first confirmed, in accordance with the recitals of the regulation, that the extraterritorial effect of US sanctions “harm[s] the interests of the European Union, as well as those of the persons referred to, in violating international law and compromising the realisation of the European Union’s objectives [in contributing to the development of world trade]” (para. 37). The prohibition (pursuant to Art. 5 of Regulation 2271/96) on complying with such sanctions also applies, “in the absence of an order directing compliance issued by the administrative or judicial authorities of the third countries which adopted those laws.” (para. 42-51). An EU company may terminate contracts with sanctioned persons—even without giving reasons—but not solely on the basis of US sanctions; it must adduce and demonstrate other reasons, e.g., of an economic nature (para. 52-68).¹²⁾ The resulting conflict with the fundamental right of entrepreneurial freedom (Art. 16 EU Charter of Fundamental Rights) must ultimately be resolved through a proportionality assessment, balancing the pursuit of the aforementioned Union objectives against the economic interests of the undertaking concerned. Those interests must give way insofar as the invalidity of a termination of a contract with a sanctioned person—as a consequence of the EU-mandated non-compliance with extraterritorial sanctions—has no “disproportionate effects” on the company concerned (para. 69-95).¹³⁾

Such a blocking regulation was also discussed in response to US sanctions against the ICC (see European Parliament here and here). Another EU countermeasure that could be considered in this context is the instrument against economic coercion (Regulation (EU) 2023/2675) adopted in 2023. It dates back to Chinese coercive measures against Lithuania over its Taiwan policy in 2021. Article 2(1) of the Regulation defines economic coercion as “third-country measure affecting trade or investment in order to prevent or obtain the cessation, modification or adoption of a particular act by the Union or a Member State, thereby interfering in the legitimate sovereign choices of the Union or a Member State.” This instrument is therefore primarily a response to economic coercive measures (such as the tariffs imposed by the Trump administration). However, if one assumes that measures of this kind (such as the ICC sanctions) also interfere with the EU’s sovereign foreign policy (in this case, its unconditional support for the ICC),¹⁴⁾the activation of Regulation 2023/2675 could certainly be justified. Otherwise, the EU could also adopt a more tailor-made legal act.

So far, the EU has not produced any such formal response—not only because of the legal (and economic) problems outlined above, but (probably) also because it fears that the US government could then sanction the Court as a whole. On the one hand, this possibility, as noted at the outset, must be taken seriously; if it were to materialize, the very existence of the Court would be at stake. On the other hand, however, verbal protests and declarations of solidarity¹⁵⁾ alone cannot mitigate the effects of the sanctions. Even the commendable and important efforts of the ICC Registry to strengthen the resilience, adaptability, and sustainability of the ICC,¹⁶⁾ including through the use of national circumvention strategies,¹⁷⁾ as well as the domestic dialogue of certain States Parties with relevant national economic actors cannot replace the effects of a formal EU response (in particular through a blocking regulation).

Attack on the Law

It is an irony of history that the US, the country that was largely responsible for the Nuremberg trial of the major war criminals, now wants to destroy the very court that would not exist without Nuremberg. Unlike in the Caribbean, the Trump administration’s sanctions do not kill physically, but they do destroy the civil existence of the ICC’s representatives sanctioned. The sanctions amount to a form of civil death because those sanctioned can no longer participate in normal business and social life. Independent prosecutors and judges are being equated with terrorists, organized criminals, and corrupt dictators. In other words, they are being punished for doing their job—a “job” for which they were elected and appointed and for which they enjoy special protection (Art. 48(2) ICC Statute).¹⁸⁾ At the same time, the sanctions and the accompanying reprisals and threats against members of the ICC and the Court as a whole – as well as the Russian prosecution and conviction (in absentia) of ICC leadership personnel – can be classified as crimes against the administration of justice within the meaning of Art. 70 (1) (d), (e) ICC Statute (see also the ASP Resolution of December 5, 2025, para. 4; also Hovell).

The US sanctions policy thus proves to be not only an attack on the ICC, but an attack on the law itself. This requires an institutional response, more than just verbal protest. Words must be followed by concrete action. An EU legal act in the form of a blocking regulation or a more tailored instrument (possibly based on the Regulation against economic coercion) could be such an action (see also Hovell [with further measures also within the US] and Iverson). It would not only help like-minded EU actors to maintain their contractual relations with the ICC, but would also send a strong, not merely symbolic signal of European determination beyond the EU and Europe. It would represent a first step towards achieving European sovereignty, long overdue in this area as well. At the same time, the ICC should – as a preventive measure with a view to possible institutional sanctions – make itself independent of US companies (e.g., Microsoft Office).

For a brief audio version (in German) see here.

The post The Sanctioning of Law appeared first on Verfassungsblog.

A public good is characterized by the fact that no one can be excluded from consuming it, and that consumption by one person does not diminish the possibilities of others to consume it. Knowledge is a public good, no one can be excluded from it. Yet when this knowledge takes the form of publications, exclusion becomes very much possible. It is obvious that the availability of print works is limited. If a book is in the possession of one person, access to that book is closed to others. If the book is owned by someone, they can permanently exclude others from accessing it.

The internet and digitization promised nothing less than to make published knowledge a public good as well. Once a work is digital and available online, anyone with an internet connection can access it, simultaneously and without restricting its usability for others. This factual opening, however, remains only a possibility, one that scholars must actively employ when disseminating their work. And so, more than twenty years after the Budapest Open Access Initiative Declaration (BOAI), reality looks quite different from what was then envisioned: barriers to access remain, and the costs of accessing publications continue to drain university library budgets. The “Open Access Revolution” (Suber 2012, p. 1) was supposed to make scholarly knowledge a public good through “free and unrestricted online availability”, but it seems that today little more has remained beyond a business model for private, international publishing companies.

Academic self-organization

The scholarly publishing system is expensive and generates dizzying profits for a few companies, while outsourcing a considerable share of the work to academia itself. Yet the structures appear more entrenched than ever. For many, it may even seem unimaginable that things could work differently than through commercial publishers – enterprises no longer truly anchored in science, surveilling researchers through data tracking, and positioning themselves as data brokers. We do not really know any other structure of academic publishing butmeasured against the nearly 400-year history of scholarly publishing, they are quite new, having emerged only after the Second World War.

In 1665, the first issue of the Journal des Sçavans was published in Paris to report on “ce qui se passe de nouveau dans la Republique des lettres”. It is considered the first precursor of the modern scholarly journal. Just two months later, the first issue of the Philosophical Transactions appeared in London, followed by the Giornale de Utterati di Roma in Italy in 1668 and the Miscellanea Curiosa in Schweinfurt in 1670 (Ornstein 1928, p. 202).

All of these journals were launched outside universities, which were institutionally sluggish and conservative in both scientific methods and content (Ornstein 1928, pp. 257 ff.). Rather, the first scholarly journals emerged from the efforts of private scholars or individuals associated with them, frequently within the sphere of scientific societies. These societies emerged in the 17th century as networks of private scholars and professors, as “unions of amateurs”, and played a decisive role in shaping – if not outright founding – modern science (Ornstein 1928, p. 68). Their members created forums where they pursued experimental science and exchanged ideas (Ornstein 1928, p. 177). A form of institutionalization was often conferred upon them through royal or imperial recognition and patronage (Ornstein 1928, pp. 169 ff.).

The first journals usually contained publications from various disciplines, but in the 19th century a process of specialization unfolded within academia, reflected in the founding of new societies and journals. Scholarly publishing remained largely the domain of scientific societies, though production and distribution were increasingly carried out by commercial or university presses. During this period, private publishers entered scholarly publishing more frequently, though the academic business remained scarcely profitable well into the 20th century (see Brock/Meadows 2010, pp. 101 ff.; cf. also Fyfe et al. 2022). This changed in the second half of the 20th century, spurred by the geopolitical competition of the postwar era.

From rocket science to price explosion

On October 4, 1957, the Soviet Union launched Sputnik 1, the first satellite. Since the systemic rivalry between capitalism and communism was most visibly fought in the realm of space exploration, this event sent shockwaves: Sputnik 1 publicly called into question US technological superiority (see McDougall 1985, pp. 141 ff.). This defeat prompted massive US investments in science and education. The educational expansion of the 1960s and 1970s in the U.S. and Europe was thus, among other things, a consequence of a systemic struggle also fought through universities and their libraries. For technological development, knowledge is indispensable, and that knowledge is found above all in scholarly publications.

In Federal Republic of Germany, between 1962 and 1984, the number of university libraries nearly doubled, the number of current journals tripled, and the total holdings in volumes more than quadrupled (Dugall 1994, p. 340). The number of researchers also grew, and with it the number of publications.

In this phase, disciplines specialized further, increasing demand for corresponding publications. Publishers created these offerings, especially by founding new journals, thereby filling existing gaps. Although scholars viewed commercial publishers with skepticism, they nevertheless made use of their offerings, contributing to their success (Brock/Meadows 2010, p. 193). With educational expansion as a political desideratum, sufficient public funds were available to finance the growth of education and publishing (cf. Rau 2004, p. 17). Publishers adapted their strategies to these new conditions and soon realized they could charge universities and their libraries higher prices for individual titles than they could charge individuals. The orientation toward an international market in an increasingly internationalized science, as well as the systematic acquisition of publications and presses by certain companies, further fueled the growth of commercial scholarly publishing (see Brock/Meadows 2010, p. 219; Fyfe et al. 2017, p. 9). With Open Access, publishers then established a business model in which they receive money for each individual publication in the form of Article Processing Charges (see Pampel 2021, p. 8). In this way, politics, science, and libraries created and nourished for decades a monster they now seem unable to rid themselves of.

Some consider the “Open Access Revolution” to have failed. Many revolutions are followed by a phase of restoration, and the “Open Access Revolution” seems to fall into this pattern. But perhaps it is just that, a phase, after allOpen Access has fundamentally called the existing system into question. The new keyword is Diamond Open Access. At minimum, this means fee-free Open Access, but it tends toward non-commercial publishing as well. The Open Access community is currently wrestling with its definition, determined not to fall into the same trap again by ceding interpretive authority to publishers. Alongside the oligopolistic structures of scholarly publishing, there also exist science-led, non-commercial initiatives: independent journals, presses, and platforms, often sustained by committed scholars. Their financing is precarious, their structures often deliberately informal. Fee-based publishing is sometimes a necessity for such initiatives, not to generate profit but to cover costs. Diamond Open Access is thus meant to deliver what Open Access promised twenty years ago: free, unrestricted online access to scientific knowledge, independent of profit-oriented publishing enterprises.

Who owns science?

For the past twenty years, academia has not succeeded on a large scale in reclaiming what it creates, despite the efforts of academic libraries. But it is worth asking whether universities can function as actors of disruption, and whether they should be expected to do so. They serve science, which within the existing framework is hardly compatible with breaking with the system. Medieval universities surely looked very different from today’s, but they, too, could not free themselves from their dogmas. The revolution took place outside university walls, and perhaps this is what must happen again today. Emerging from science, of course, perhaps with the dedication of individuals who may not be scholars but who are committed to scientific ideals, and free from the path dependencies and constraints that inherently bind institutions, especially public institutions.

Science extends to its institutions, particularly universities and their libraries. These institutions provide the fundamental structures necessary to “make free scholarly activity possible in the first place” (cf. only German Federal Consitutional Court, – 1 BvR 424/71 and 325/72 –, para. 134). They act within a given framework, but they also find room to manoeuvre within it, which affords them and researchers certain freedoms and creative powers.

Open Access has always revolved around the question of how science can reclaim what it creates. Researchers and their institutions primarily direct this question at themselves. We posed it to them, and you can read their answers in the blog symposium we are launching with this text. The symposium is part of our project “Acquisition Logic as a Diamond Open Access Obstacle” (ELADOAH), funded by the Federal Ministry of Research, Technology, and Space. For the past two years, we have been working on it jointly with the Humboldt Institute for Internet and Society, and as this year comes to an end, so does the project. At its close, the authors of this blog symposium paint a multifaceted picture, exploring freedoms and limits, untapped potentials and systemic constraints.

The question of who owns science is far from settled, and perhaps it is not possible or necessary to answer it definitively. However, just as science can only ever approximate truth, so do we, with this blog symposium, seek to approximate an answer to that question.

The post The Revolution Will Not Be Institutionalized appeared first on Verfassungsblog.

Ein öffentliches Gut kennzeichnet, dass niemand sinnvoll davon ausgeschlossen werden kann, und der Konsum durch eine Person nicht die Möglichkeiten anderer mindert, dieses Gut ebenfalls zu konsumieren. Wissen ist ein öffentliches Gut, niemand kann davon ausgeschlossen werden. Nimmt dieses Wissen die Form von Publikationen an, so ist der Ausschluss allerdings sehr wohl möglich. Es ist offensichtlich, dass die Verfügbarkeit von Print-Werken begrenzt ist. Ist ein Buch im Besitz einer Person, so ist anderen Personen der Zugang zu diesem Buch erst einmal verschlossen. Steht dieses Buch im Eigentum einer Person, kann sie anderen den Zugang dazu dauerhaft verwehren.

Das Internet und die Digitalisierung versprachen nicht weniger, als auch das publizierte Wissen zum öffentlichen Gut zu machen. Denn ist ein Werk digital und im Internet verfügbar, kann jede*r mit einer Internetverbindung darauf zugreifen, gleichzeitig und ohne dass es die Nutzbarkeit durch andere einschränken würde. Diese faktische Öffnung bleibt aber erst einmal eine Möglichkeit. von der Wissenschaftler*innen bei der Verbreitung ihrer Werke Gebrauch machen müssen. Und so sieht die Realität über 20 Jahre nach der Erklärung Budapest Open Access Initiative (BOAI) anders aus als erhofft: Zugangshürden zu wissenschaftlichen Erkenntnissen bestehen nach wie vor und die Kosten für den Zugang zu den Publikationen saugen nach wie vor die universitären Literaturbudgets leer. Von der „Open-Access-Revolution“ (Suber 2012, S. 1), die durch „freie, uneingeschränkte Online-Verfügbarkeit“ wissenschaftliche Erkenntnisse zu einem öffentlichen Gut macht, scheint heute kaum mehr geblieben zu sein als ein Geschäftsmodell privatwirtschaftlicher, international agierender Verlagsunternehmen.

Wissenschaftliche Selbstorganisation

Das wissenschaftliche Publikationssystem ist teuer und beschert einigen Unternehmen schwindelerregende Profite, während sie einen beträchtlichen Teil der Arbeit an die Wissenschaft auslagern. Dennoch sieht es so aus, als seien die Strukturen gefestigter denn je. Für viele mag es sogar unvorstellbar sein, dass es auch anders geht als mit kommerziellen Verlagen, die in der Wissenschaft eigentlich schon gar nicht mehr verankert sind, Forschende durch Datentracking überwachen und sich selbst als Datenbroker verstehen. Wir kennen kaum andere als die profitgetriebenen Strukturen, aber gemessen an der fast 400-jährigen Geschichte des wissenschaftlichen Publizierens sind sie recht neu und haben sich erst nach dem Zweiten Weltkrieg herausgebildet.

1665 wurde in Paris die erste Ausgabe des Journal des Sçavans veröffentlicht, um zu berichten, „ce qui se passe de nouveau dans la Republique des lettres“. Es gilt als ältester Vorläufer der modernen wissenschaftlichen Zeitschrift. Nur zwei Monate später erschien in London die erste Ausgabe der Philosophical Transactions, 1668 folgte das Giornale de Utterati di Roma in Italien und 1670 die Miscellanea Curiosa in Schweinfurt (Ornstein 1928, S. 202).

Ins Leben gerufen wurden alle diese Zeitschriften außerhalb von Universitäten, die institutionell schwerfällig und in wissenschaftlichen Methoden wie Inhalten konservativ und altmodisch agierten (Ornstein 1928, S. 257 ff.). Vielmehr gehen die ersten wissenschaftlichen Zeitschriften auf die Initiativen von Privatgelehrten oder mit ihnen verbundene Personen zurück und entstanden zumindest im Umfeld von wissenschaftlichen Gesellschaften. Diese Gesellschaften als unions of amateurs bildeten sich im 17. Jahrhundert als Netzwerke von Privatgelehrten und Professoren heraus und haben die moderne Wissenschaft maßgeblich geprägt, wenn nicht gar begründet (Ornstein 1928, S. 68). Ihre Mitglieder schufen mit ihnen Foren, in denen sie experimentelle Wissenschaft betrieben und sich austauschten (Ornstein 1928, S. 177). Eine Art der Institutionalisierung wurde ihnen häufig durch königliche oder kaiserliche Anerkennung und Schirmherrschaft zuteil (Ornstein 1928, S. 169 ff.) .

Die ersten Zeitschriften beinhalteten meist Veröffentlichungen aus unterschiedlichen wissenschaftlichen Disziplinen, doch im 19. Jahrhundert vollzog sich eine Profilbildung innerhalb der Wissenschaft, die sich auch in Neugründungen wissenschaftlicher Gesellschaften und Zeitschriften niederschlug. Wissenschaftliches Publizieren war weiterhin vor allem Teil der Tätigkeiten wissenschaftlicher Gesellschaften, Herstellung und Vertrieb übernahmen aber zunehmend kommerzielle oder Universitätsverlage. In dieser Zeit traten vermehrt privatwirtschaftliche Verlage in das wissenschaftliche Publizieren ein, allerdings war das akademische Geschäft bis ins 20. Jahrhundert hinein meist kaum profitabel (dazu Brock/Meadows 2010, S. 101 ff.; s. auch Fyfe et al. 2022). Das änderte sich in der zweiten Hälfte des 20. Jahrhunderts, maßgeblich angetrieben vom geopolitischen Wettbewerb der Nachkriegszeit.

Von der Raketenwissenschaft zur Preisexplosion

Am 4. Oktober 1957 startete die Sowjetunion mit Sputnik 1 den ersten Satelliten. Da die Systemkonkurrenz zwischen Kapitalismus und Kommunismus am Sichtbarsten im Bereich der Raumfahrt ausgetragen wurde, löste dieses Ereignis regelrechte Schockwellen aus: Sputnik 1 stellte vor den Augen der Welt die technologische Überlegenheit der USA infrage (dazu McDougall 1985, S. 141 ff.). Diese Niederlage veranlasste die USA zu massiven Investitionen in Wissenschaft und Bildung. Die Bildungsexpansion der 1960er und 1970er Jahre in den USA und Europa war so unter anderem Folge eines Systemkampfs, der auch über Hochschulen und ihre Bibliotheken ausgetragen wurde. Denn um Technologien weiterzuentwickeln, ist Wissen unabdingbar und dieses Wissen findet sich vor allem wissenschaftlichen Publikationen. So hat sich in der BRD zwischen 1962 und 1984 die Zahl der Universitätsbibliotheken beinahe verdoppelt, die Zahl der laufenden Zeitschriften verdreifacht und der Gesamtliteraturbestand in Bänden mehr als vervierfacht (Dugall 1994, S. 340). Die Zahl der Wissenschaftler*innen wuchs ebenfalls und damit auch die Zahl der Publikationen.

In dieser Phase spezialisierten sich die wissenschaftlichen Disziplinen weiter, womit wiederum der Bedarf an entsprechenden Publikationen stieg. Wissenschaftsverlage schufen diese Publikationsangebote, vor allem durch die Gründung neuer Zeitschriften, und füllten damit existierende Lücken. Obwohl Wissenschaftler*innen kommerziellen Verlagen eher skeptisch gegenüberstanden, machten sie von deren Angeboten Gebrauch und trugen so zu ihrem Erfolg bei (Brock/Meadows 2010, S. 193). Mit der Bildungsexpansion als politischem Desiderat standen in dieser Phase auch ausreichend öffentliche Mittel zur Verfügung, um den Aus- und Aufbau im Bildungs- und Publikationswesen zu finanzieren (vgl. Rau 2004, S. 17). Wissenschaftsverlage passten ihre Geschäftsstrategien an diese neuen Gegebenheiten an und stellten bald fest, dass sie beim Verkauf ihrer Produkte an Universitäten und deren Bibliotheken höhere Preise für einzelne Titel veranschlagen konnten als beim Verkauf an einzelne Personen. Die Ausrichtung auf einen internationalen Markt einer sich internationalisierenden Wissenschaft sowie die planmäßige Übernahme von Publikationen und Verlagen durch einige Unternehmen trugen ihrerseits zum Wachstum kommerzieller Wissenschaftsverlage bei (dazu Brock/Meadows 2010, S. 219 und Fyfe et al. 2017, S. 9). Mit Open Access haben Verlagsunternehmen dann ein Geschäftsmodell etabliert, bei dem sie in Form von Article Processing Charges Geld für die einzelne Publikation erhalten (dazu nur Pampel 2021, S. 8). Politik, Wissenschaft und Bibliotheken haben auf diese Weise ein Monster erst erschaffen und über Jahrzehnte genährt, das sie nun nicht mehr loszuwerden scheinen.

Die „Open-Access-Revolution“ gilt manchen als gescheitert. Nicht wenigen Revolutionen folgte eine Phase der Restauration, und die „Open-Access-Revolution“ scheint sich hier einzureihen. Aber vielleicht ist es eben nur eine Phase, denn Open Access hat das bestehende System grundlegend infrage gestellt. Das neue Schlagwort lautet Diamond Open Access. Dabei handelt es sich mindestens um gebührenfreies Open Access, tendenziell aber auch um nicht-kommerzielles Publizieren. Die Open-Access-Community ringt derzeit um die Definition, denn man möchte nicht wieder in die gleiche Falle tappen, indem man Verlagsunternehmen die Deutungshoheit überlässt. Parallel zu den oligopolistischen Strukturen wissenschaftlichen Publizierens bestehen auch wissenschaftsgeleitete, nicht-kommerzielle Initiativen: unabhängige Zeitschriften, Verlage und Publikationsplattformen, oft getragen von engagierten Wissenschaftler*innen. Ihre Finanzierung ist prekär, ihre Strukturen teilweise bewusst informell. Gebührenfinanziertes Publizieren ist für solche Initiativen manchmal eine Notwendigkeit, aber nicht um Gewinne zu erzielen, sondern um die Kosten zu decken. Diamond Open Access soll also nun einlösen, was Open Access vor 20 Jahren versprach: den freien, uneingeschränkten Online-Zugang zu wissenschaftlichen Erkenntnissen, unabhängig von profitorientierten Verlagsunternehmen.

Wem gehört die Wissenschaft?

In den vergangenen 20 Jahren ist es der Wissenschaft nicht im großen Stil gelungen, sich anzueignen, was sie erschafft, aller Bemühungen der wissenschaftlichen Bibliotheken zum Trotz. Man darf sich aber auch die Frage stellen, ob ausgerechnet Universitäten Akteure des Umsturzes sind und überhaupt sein können. Sie dienen der Wissenschaft, was im bestehenden Gefüge nur schwer vereinbar ist mit einem Bruch mit dem System. Die Universitäten des Mittelalters sahen natürlich ganz anders aus als die Universitäten heute, aber auch sie konnten sich nicht selbst von ihren Dogmen befreien. Die Revolution fand außerhalb der universitären Mauern statt und vielleicht muss sie das auch heute. Aus der Wissenschaft zwar, vielleicht auch mit dem Engagement von Personen, die keine Wissenschaftler*innen sind, sich wissenschaftlichen Idealen aber verpflichtet fühlen, jedoch frei von den Pfadabhängigkeiten und Anforderungen, denen Institutionen – und öffentliche Institutionen noch dazu – nun einmal unterworfen sind.

Zur Wissenschaft gehören auch ihre Institutionen, allen voran die Hochschulen und ihre Bibliotheken, die Strukturen bereitstellen, welche grundlegend dafür sind, die „freie wissenschaftliche Betätigung überhaupt erst [zu] ermöglichen“ (vgl. nur BVerfG, – 1 BvR 424/71 und 325/72 –, Rn. 134). Sie agieren innerhalb eines gesetzten Rahmens, in dem sie aber auch Spielräume vorfinden, die ihnen ebenso wie den Forschenden selbst gewisse Freiheiten und Gestaltungsmacht verleihen.

Open Access kreist von jeher um die Frage, wie die Wissenschaft sich wieder aneignen kann, was sie erschafft. Diese Frage richten die Forschenden und ihre Institutionen vor allem an sich selbst. Wir haben sie ihnen auch gestellt, ihre Antworten darauf können Sie in dem Blog-Symposium nachlesen, das wir mit diesem Text starten. Das Blog-Symposium ist Teil unseres vom Bundesministerium für Forschung, Technologie und Raumfahrt gefördertenVerbundprojekts „Erwerbungslogik als Diamond-Open-Access-Hindernis“ (ELADOAH). Über zwei Jahre haben wir daran zusammen mit dem Humboldt Institut für Internet und Gesellschaft gearbeitet und mit diesem Jahr geht geht auch das Projekt zu Ende. Zum Abschluss zeichnen die Autor*innen dieses Blog-Symposiums ein facettenreiches Bild, in dem sie Freiräume und Grenzen ausloten, ungenutzte Potentiale und systemische Beschränkungen darstellen.

Die Antwort auf die Frage, wem die Wissenschaft gehört, ist noch lange nicht beantwortet und vielleicht müssen und können wir sie auch gar nicht abschließend beantworten. Aber so wie sich die Wissenschaft der Wahrheit immer nur annähern kann, wollen wir uns mit diesem Blog-Symposium der Antwort auf diese Frage nähern.

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