The Bill Came for the Books They Stole. Nobody Sent One for the Books They Shredded.
August 1, 2026 — robotcrimeblog.com
TLDR
Anthropic paid $1.5 billion — the largest copyright settlement in American history — to resolve piracy claims, and part of that deal requires destroying the pirated files. But the settlement says nothing about another library: millions of used books the company lawfully bought, cut apart, scanned, and sent to recycling under Project Panama. That system was ruled fair use. Nobody paid for it, nobody must preserve it, and the physical books no longer exist. The company paid nine figures to erase what it stole and kept what it destroyed. That is not a loophole. That is the structure of the ruling.
I.
It is 2:40 in the morning and I am reading a court order about a hydraulic cutting machine.
Not a metaphor. A real machine, with a real blade, used by a vendor in San Francisco to remove book spines so pages could be scanned faster and cheaper. The pages go flat through a production scanner, the file goes to a server, and the paper goes to recycling.
The company is Anthropic. The program was called Project Panama. An internal document described it as an effort to “destructively scan all the books in the world” and instructed employees to keep the name quiet. Nothing shared outside the building.
They knew. That is the part I keep circling at 2:40 a.m. Nobody writes that sentence about something they think will read well.
II. The thing everyone got right and stopped too early
The Washington Post published Project Panama on January 27, 2026, based on thousands of pages unsealed in the authors’ case. The reporting has since been widely repeated, but the core facts are simple.
In 2024, Anthropic hired Tom Turvey, formerly of Google Books, to source print books at scale. It bought used stock in bulk from sellers like Better World Books and World of Books, then sent it to a vendor, Datamation, for destructive scanning. Spines were cut, pages digitized, paper pulped.
The filings are redacted on totals, but reference “tens of millions of dollars” and a range of roughly 500,000 to 2 million books over six months. The “two million” figure comes from vendor capacity, not confirmed output.
Internally, Anthropic estimated about 130 million books exist globally, with roughly 40 million obtainable — a figure inherited from earlier industry attempts to catalogue all published books.
III. Why the shredding happened
Because it was legal advice. That is the answer.
The piracy came first. A 2025 court order details how Anthropic employees downloaded Books3, Library Genesis, and Pirate Library Mirror datasets — millions of pirated books. Statutory damages for that exposure could have exceeded the company’s value.
So in 2024, they shifted to buying books instead.
Judge William Alsup later ruled that the scanning-and-destruction process qualified as fair use. The reasoning was simple: one lawful copy at a time, digitized, then destroyed. The court treated it as format conversion, not reproduction.
The destruction of the physical book was not incidental. It was part of what made the use lawful.
IV. What $1.5 billion actually bought
On July 20, 2026, Judge Araceli Martínez-Olguín approved the settlement. It covers roughly 482,000 copyrighted works, averaging about $3,000 per work, and requires destruction of all pirated datasets and derivatives.
So there are two categories:
In one hand: pirated digital books. Paid for. Deleted.
In the other: lawfully purchased physical books. Destroyed during scanning. Not part of the case. Not compensated. Not preserved.
The scans of those destroyed books remain in private systems with no deposit requirement, no public access, and no retention obligation.
The settlement cleans up the theft. It does nothing about the subtraction.
V. The midpoint
The copyright system is working as designed.
Copyright protects economic rights — reproduction, distribution, derivative works. Those rights remain with the author even if the physical book is destroyed. But ownership of a physical copy includes the right to destroy it.
So nothing illegal happens here. That is the point.
There is no legal category for cultural loss that occurs through lawful destruction. No damages model for books that disappear from circulation without ever being infringed. No plaintiff for readers who do not yet exist.
The system produces a zero because it has no way to measure what is being removed.
VI. The part happening in strangers’ shops
While U.S. courts debated fair use, European booksellers began noticing unusual bulk orders.
Small shops in Spain, Germany, and the Netherlands reported automated purchases of obscure, unrelated titles — academic monographs, technical manuals, niche histories — often ordered in large batches at odd hours.
Dealers describe ISBN-based lists with no thematic logic. One seller received a 3,000-title spreadsheet from a buyer linked to a Singapore company. Another saw repeated overnight orders of long-unsold stock.
Much of the volume appears to pass through intermediaries, including Canadian reseller Zoom Books, which denies any involvement in digitization or AI training.
Booksellers’ associations in Germany have called the practice a serious copyright concern. Others describe it more bluntly: legal transactions that still result in irreversible loss of cultural material.
VII. The broker says it out loud
ISBNdb, a metadata company, has advertised bulk sourcing of print books for AI training — from thousands to millions per order — under strict nondisclosure agreements.
Its marketing explicitly noted that headlines about mass book destruction are “not sympathetic.”
The page was later removed. Archived versions remain.
VIII. All is lost
There is no register of what has been destroyed.
No library tracks which books were cut, scanned, and pulped. No national archive records the losses. When a rare or obscure title disappears from circulation, there is no formal record that it ever left.
The absence is invisible by design.
IX. What is actually available
The legal precedent is narrow.
One district court ruled that destructive scanning can qualify as fair use. That ruling was not appealed. It is not binding beyond its jurisdiction.
Meanwhile, other cases over AI training data are still active, including litigation in the Southern District of New York involving major publishers and Google.
The legal landscape is not settled. It is fragmented.
The unanswered question is whether the Panama-style pipeline is still operating. No outlet has confirmed it on the record.
If it is active, that is a story. If it is not, that is also a story. Right now, there is only silence.
A simple fix exists: require that any large-scale destructive digitization deposit a copy of the resulting scan into a public archive. Not a ban. Not damages. Just preservation.
X.
Somewhere there is still a warehouse with a cutting machine and a stack of books that no one has opened in decades.
The machine does not know what it is destroying. Neither does the vendor. Neither does the buyer, who only sees ISBNs.
Everything is legal. Everything is rational. And a book that existed in the morning does not exist at night.
The law has priced the theft. It has not priced the disappearance.
Go look at your local used bookstore. Write down what is there. It may not be there tomorrow.
Q&A: the objections
Is destroying a book you own legal?
Yes. Ownership includes destruction. The issue is not legality but scale: when destruction becomes a system, it produces loss the law does not measure.
Aren’t these just cheap used books?
Mostly yes. But bulk ISBN-driven purchasing does not distinguish between common and rare works. The mechanism is indifferent to scarcity.
Isn’t a scan better than a physical book?
Only if the scan is accessible. These are private training datasets, not public archives.
Wasn’t this already reported?
The existence of Project Panama was reported. What has not been resolved is what the settlement actually leaves untouched: the lawful destruction pipeline.
Are you saying AI training should be illegal?
No. The argument is narrower: that destruction at scale should not be invisible, and that preservation can be required without banning training.
Sources
Bartz v. Anthropic PBC (N.D. Cal.), June 23, 2025; Final Approval Order, July 20, 2026. Washington Post (Jan 27, 2026). 404 Media (July 2026). Publishers Lunch. SRF, SWR, BNR. Association of American Publishers.