Protection of copyright - in the 18th century sense - is not possible in the digital era. And movie studios can't just allow this new culture of sharing when it suits them, writes Mark Pesce.

Like almost everyone I know, I spent three minutes yesterday in front of a screen watching the brand new trailer for Mad Max: Fury Road.

Clearly in his prime, George Miller has constructed an almost operatic vision of explosive choreography in this latest instalment of our most enduring of post-apocalyptic stories.

I was impressed, and hardly alone in that. All day long I saw friends all around Australia tweeting about the trailer, or sharing a link to it. When we see something outstanding, our first instinct is to share it with others.

By the end of the day, Warner Bros must have been very happy. They merely uploaded a trailer to YouTube, informed a few folks, and let the internet handle the rest. A dense network of digital connections helps the trailer quickly find its way to the audiences most interested in it, audiences who will continue to promote the trailer, until nearly every individual who might be interested in the film has seen that trailer.

A film studio couldn't do that a decade ago. Before YouTube, to reach all of Australia, they'd have to buy three minutes of ad time on every commercial network, on the same evening – a very expensive proposition. Even then they wouldn't reach everyone - many people wouldn't be watching at the right moment to catch the trailer.

If Warner Bros has done their homework - and studios these days are little more than gigantic marketing engines for 'tentpole' releases like Mad Max: Fury Road - this trailer will only be the first of a rising storm of previews, interviews, and revised trailers, each of which will be eagerly consumed - and shared - by an audience whipped into a fever pitch by all these tantalizing tidbits.

Then, on the day of release (May 15, 2015), the barrier will slam down. At that point the only way to satisfy the desire built up by these countless acts of audience-driven sharing will be to hand Warner Bros $25 of your hard-earned money (3D is exy) for a cinema ticket.

Perfectly happy to flash some skin when it suits them, on release day Warner Bros turns into just another pimp, peddling flash for a price.

The audience, meanwhile, has been well trained by Warner Bros. The audience knows how to find and share content. Some of that content is posted by the studio, to amplify their profits. Some of that content is posted by the audience, to satisfy the desires created by the studio.

Warner Bros would call that sort of behaviour piracy. In reality, Warner Bros is simply reaping what they've sown. Every time a studio creates a digital asset to share with the audience, they sow the wind. When that studio releases a digital asset for sale to that audience, they reap the whirlwind.

You don't get to choose which benefits of sharing culture are yours.

The internet is a perfect copying machine, and bits exist to be copied. To say this bit can be copied, but that bit can not, is more than just legal overreach. It's a category error, a fundamental misapprehension of the nature of things. Protection of copyright - in the 18th century sense - is not possible in the digital era. The law can not be used to repeal physical laws.

Which isn't to say this government isn't going to give it a good try. Reality-based policy has never been this mob's strong suit.

In order to make it nod toward reality, we'll see the law bent into some weird shapes. For example: to read a bit is to make a copy of it, so all playback equipment is making a copy of the content as it plays. The law will grant an exception, declaring this copy-for-playback legal, and all other copies illegal. But that's a fine point upon which to hang all of the law, one that will not support too close an examination.

You can't ignore reality forever. Everything always falls back to earth. Eventually, all of this implodes: policy, profits, business models, the nexus of money, media and politics that's driving this michegas through government. We can already see some of what replaces it: crowdfunding, streaming services like Netflix, and different models of commercial success, with different gatekeepers and different sorts of tolls.

In the meantime, these Hollywood giants will try to make the whole world conform to a worldview actively undermined every time they release another digital tidbit for us to enjoy.

Probably best for the rest of us to buy some popcorn, settle back, and enjoy the show. It's going to be epic.

Mark Pesce is the honorary associate in the Digital Cultures Program at the University of Sydney. His website is www.markpesce.com. View his full profile here.