Becoming a sitcom-viewing fugitive

We've all seen them: public service announcements about file sharing that imply downloading Ashlee Simpson's latest single could lead to 15 years of hard time, or a $4 million fine - and not just for poor taste in music. Boston College incorporates warnings about downloading music illegally into the technology presentation during orientation. There's even the occasional account of someone's roommate's friend who was actually caught and fined for illegal downloading. On the whole, however, few people seem to take the issue of illegal file sharing too seriously.

The thought of committing technological felonies on foreign soil never even crossed my mind after moving into my dorm in London. Naturally, I received a copy of building policies when I paid my housing fee. After having stood a few weeks earlier outside 90 St. Thomas More in the freezing cold for two hours in the middle of the night while the Boston College Police Department interrogated a resident who had set off the fire alarm by burning popcorn, I was prepared to follow them to the letter of the law.

Something about the signs in the hallway of my new building suggesting that occupants might want to open a window in their flat while smoking marijuana to prevent the fire alarms from going off, told me, as far as rules and regulations were concerned, that things were slightly different here.

Imagine my surprise two weeks later when I received a letter in my mail slot from TV Licensing UK stamped "Official Warning."

"We have previously informed you that it is an offense to watch TV programmes at your address without a valid TV License. You should expect a visit from an Enforcement Officer shortly."

The accompanying pamphlet didn't contain too much information about my rights, but it did state very clearly that I could face a court appearance and a fine of up to the equivalent of $2,000. If, after I paid my fine, I still wanted to watch TV, I would need to purchase a license, at the bargain price of $263. All this to enjoy three standard channels of programming that aired in the United States six months ago and one hour every night of Celebrity Big Brother.

After a few nervous moments, I decided this was nothing to get too concerned about. A country that endorsed pot smoking in residence halls wasn't going to deport me over a few reruns of Prison Break viewed in the building common room. Additionally, the letter was addressed not to me but to "Legal Occupier," and from the looks of our public mailboxes, just about everyone in the building had one. I had only moved in two weeks ago, and it was entirely possible that the person who occupied my flat previously was some sitcom-thieving fugitive, and I was just receiving their mail.

Above all, one important fact remained: I did not own, or have personal access to, a television set.

I managed to successfully forget TV Licensing UK and return to my carefree, television-free lifestyle until a few days later, while chatting online to a friend at another British university. She was sorry, she said, that she couldn't talk right now, but she was on the phone with the British police.

Excuse me?

It seemed, the officer said, that my friend had downloaded several episodes of Grey's Anatomy on iTunes. Downloaded and paid for, yes, but still without the necessary license, which apparently did not just apply to programs watched on a conventional television. She would have to buy the license or the authorities would come search her apartment and confiscate her computer. (I immediately envisioned dozens of British police crowded around confiscated laptops, waiting desperately to see if Meredith would choose Derek or Finn).

Friends at BC suggested I make myself a fake ID, and while I had to explain that this was not quite like trying to get into Mary Ann's when you're almost 20, this law did raise some interesting questions. Among them, if you're arrested for watching television without a license, can you watch TV while you're in jail?

I realized, however, that I had become distracted from the real issue here, which was not potential legal action, but rather an important opportunity that had been missed on the part of British television executives. A new kind of crime, apparently committed quite frequently by unwitting American college students, meant the opportunity for a new kind of legal drama. CSI: Illegal Use of Remote Control, perhaps, or Law & Order: If You're Watching This You're Probably Committing a Crime. Maybe even something a little less intellectual, perhaps an edition of Girls Gone Wild where everyone is fully clothed the entire time and just sits around watching The OC, but the TV isn't licensed. The possibilities were endless. I mean, I'd watch. And probably get arrested.

Kathryn Dill is a Heights staff columnist studying abroad at the University College London. She welcomes comments at dillk@bcheights.com.