

I've been in publishing for 16 years. I started as an intern with Seth Godin. The first book I helped launch hit number one on Amazon and the New York Times list. I was Tim Ferriss's first full-time employee and edited both his blog and his book for three years. I was there when the company that became Scribe was founded. I spent six years there. I've written five books of my own.
I've seen every version of how this industry works and doesn't work. And in September 2025, something happened that changed the math on all of it.
Anthropic agreed to pay $1.5 billion to settle a copyright lawsuit. They'd downloaded books from pirate websites to train their AI models. A federal judge ruled that using legally purchased books for AI training is fair use. But pirating them is not. The potential liability climbed past $70 billion. Anthropic settled for roughly $3,000 per book across about 500,000 works.
The per-book number is almost beside the point. The precedent is what changed everything. A federal court established that AI companies cannot use books without compensating the people who wrote them. That's the largest copyright settlement in American history, and it landed on a question I've been wrestling with for most of my career: what is a book actually worth when you own it?
For years, the standard advice was to get a traditional deal. They'll handle everything. You just write. I gave that advice myself early on. It seemed right at the time.
What nobody talked about clearly enough was the trade. You hand over your IP, your rights, your timeline, your royalties. For most nonfiction authors, a traditional deal means making a dollar or two per copy while somebody else decides how your ideas get used.
I was at Scribe for six years. I watched author after author come in saying variations of the same thing. I spent over $100,000 on ghostwriters and I'm basically starting from scratch. Or, my publisher owns the book and I can't even buy copies at cost to give to my clients. Or, I want to turn my chapters into a course but I need permission from a company that hasn't returned my calls in three weeks.
These weren't bad authors. They were experts with decades of knowledge who signed deals because it felt like the legitimate path. The prestige of having a publisher was real. The cost of giving up ownership only became clear after the fact.
When I published Play It Away, I did it myself. I'd been working on a much longer book, close to 200 pages, and I kept getting the same feedback: stick to what you know, cut the theory, focus on your experience. I cut so much that a leftover chapter became a blog post. That post went viral. I turned it into the book. I owned every word of it. That book has been working for me for over a decade now because I can do whatever I want with it. No permissions. No negotiations. No waiting.
I've spent enough time around AI tools to know exactly where they fall short. They can produce polished sentences, summarize any topic competently. What they can't do is explain, from lived experience, why the standard advice in your industry is wrong, then stake a reputation on that argument and defend it when smart people push back.
I've run AI-generated text through detection tools. You can see exactly what percentage was written by a machine. And when writing doesn't carry the weight of someone who actually lived the thing they're writing about, readers move on. They may not know why. They just lose interest.
That's been true for a while. What the Anthropic settlement added is a financial dimension. AI companies need high-quality training data. Books are the densest, highest-quality written material that exists. And now there's legal precedent establishing that they have to pay for it. The settlement covered half a million works. The next one will cover more. This is the beginning of a new revenue stream for anyone who owns their IP in book form.
Your expertise, in a format you own, is now worth real money to the companies building the next generation of AI. That's on top of everything a book already does for your business: the inbound leads, speaking fees, deals that close before you ever walk into the room because the prospect already read your book on a flight. The real ROI of a book has never been about copies sold.
Before the settlement, the case for owning your IP was strong but abstract. I could tell authors they'll want control down the road. Trust me. Some listened. Plenty didn't.
Now the case is concrete. A federal court put a dollar figure on book ownership. And the economics of publishing have shifted enough that you don't have to sacrifice quality to keep control. The stigma around self-publishing is gone. The production tools are better than ever. Distribution through Amazon and Ingram is global.
What hasn't changed is the core of what makes a book valuable. It has to come from real expertise. It has to be in your voice. It has to be structured around a specific transformation for a specific reader. The wrong book, no matter who owns it, still doesn't do anything. And the publishing system still isn't set up to help you make those decisions well.
But if you get those things right and you own what you create, you're sitting on an asset that compounds for years. The Anthropic settlement just made that clearer than anything I've seen in 16 years of doing this.
If you want to see what a book could actually produce for your business, estimate your book's ROI here.
And if you're ready to figure out which book your business needs, see if you're a fit.

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