Last reviewed by Robert Prime — September 2026
Quick Answer: Under s.11(1) CDPA 1988 the designer owns the copyright in your cover, because they made it and they are not your employee. Payment does not move it — only an assignment in writing, signed by them, does (s.90(3)). Most authors actually hold a licence, which is fine for selling the book and not fine for a boxset, merchandise, or a foreign edition. Ask for an assignment of the designer’s own work, and a written list of any stock assets, which stay licensed from the library.
Above is the position. Below is what it stops you doing, and how to fix it without annoying a designer you want to work with again.
Table of Contents
- The rule, and why it surprises people
- Licence or assignment: which one you have
- What a licence actually stops you doing
- The stock image layer underneath
- The moral rights question
- What to ask for, without souring the relationship
- Frequently asked questions
The rule, and why it surprises people
A book cover is an artistic work. Copyright in it arises automatically when it is created, and s.11(1) of the CDPA 1988 says the author of a work is the first owner of any copyright in it. The author of the artwork is the designer.
The only exception that would help you is s.11(2) — works made by an employee in the course of employment, where the employer is first owner. A designer you commissioned for a fee is not your employee. They invoice you, they work for other authors, they choose their own tools and hours.
So unless something else has happened, the designer owns your cover.
People find this counter-intuitive because of the word commission. In ordinary English, commissioning something means having it made for you, and it feels like it should follow that you own it. UK copyright law used to have a commissioning rule for certain works; it was repealed for works made after the 1988 Act came into force. There is now no general “I paid for it, so I own it” principle anywhere in the Act.
Licence or assignment: which one you have
Two documents can come out of a design job, and they are very different.
An assignment moves ownership. It must be in writing and signed by the assignor, under s.90(3):
“An assignment of copyright is not effective unless it is in writing signed by or on behalf of the assignor.”
A licence is permission to use. It leaves ownership with the designer, can be limited to particular uses, territories or formats, and can sometimes be revoked.
Most book cover engagements produce a licence, and often an implied one — no document at all, just an understanding that you are going to publish the book with that cover. An implied licence is real, but its scope is only what was obviously necessary for the purpose you both had in mind. That purpose was almost certainly “publish this book”. It was probably not “sell tote bags”.
How to tell which you have: look for the word. A contract that says the designer assigns the copyright, signed by them, is an assignment. Anything using grants, permits, licenses, allows the client to use, or listing permitted uses, is a licence.
What a licence actually stops you doing
For a lot of authors, a licence is genuinely sufficient, and it is worth being honest about that rather than alarming people. If you sell an ebook and a paperback with that cover for the life of the book and never do anything else, you may never notice.
You notice when you want to do one of these:
- A hardback or a special edition, where the artwork has to be re-laid at a different trim and the licence covered “the paperback and ebook”.
- A boxset cover built from the individual covers.
- Merchandise — the single most common flashpoint, because it is plainly outside “publish the book”.
- A foreign edition, where a publisher wants to reuse the art and needs to know you can grant them the right.
- A film or TV option, where the option agreement asks you to warrant which rights you control.
- Selling the book as an asset, or leaving it in your estate, where the buyer or beneficiary inherits a licence you cannot fully describe.
- Enforcing against a copycat cover. This one catches people out: if you do not own the copyright, you are generally not the person who can sue over an imitation. The designer is.
None of these are exotic. Three of them are what happens when a book does well.
The stock image layer underneath
This is the part that makes “just get an assignment of everything” the wrong instruction.
Most commercial covers are not drawn from nothing. They combine the designer’s own work — composition, typography, treatment, retouching — with licensed assets: a stock photograph, a texture, an illustration, and a font.
The designer cannot assign you copyright in a stock photograph, because they never owned it. They hold a licence from the library, and what they can pass on is governed by that library’s terms. Some allow transfer to a client, some do not, and most distinguish between standard and extended licences — for example on print-run limits or merchandise use. Fonts are licensed separately again, and font licences frequently restrict embedding.
So the realistic ask is not “assign me everything”. It is:
- Assign the copyright in your own original contribution — the design as a work, the layout, the typography treatment, any original illustration.
- Tell me in writing what is licensed and from where — which images, which library, which licence tier, which fonts.
- Warrant that you are entitled to use all of it for this purpose, so that if the licence turns out to be wrong there is a route back.
That third one is the clause that matters when a stock library sends a letter three years later. It is also the clause most commonly missing.
The moral rights question
A designer has moral rights in the artwork just as a writer does in the text, and the same two provisions apply.
Section 94: moral rights cannot be assigned. A clause transferring them does nothing.
Section 87(2): they can be waived, by an instrument in writing signed by the person giving up the right.
In practice, the right to be identified (s.77) is rarely a problem here — most authors are happy to credit the designer, and a credit line on the copyright page is normal courtesy. The one worth thinking about is s.80, the right to object to derogatory treatment of the work. If you later crop the cover hard for a thumbnail, recolour it for a promotion, or overlay a large sale flash, a designer who has not waived that right retains an objection in principle.
For most working relationships a credit plus a light-touch waiver of the derogatory-treatment right is the sensible landing point, and most designers will agree to it if you explain why you are asking.
What to ask for, without souring the relationship
Designers are not adversaries, and asking for an assignment is normal professional practice rather than an accusation. A few things make the conversation easy.
Ask before the quote, not after delivery. Rights are part of the price. A designer who knows at the quoting stage that you want full ownership can price it in. One asked after the invoice is settled is being asked to give something away for free, and may reasonably decline.
Expect to pay a little more for it, or not. Many freelance book designers assign as standard because it avoids exactly the arguments described above. Some price full assignment higher than a publishing licence. Both are legitimate.
Offer the credit. “I would like to own the cover outright, and I will credit you on the copyright page and in the book’s metadata” is a much better opening than a bare demand for rights.
Get the signature. The commonest failure is not a refusal. It is a perfectly agreeable email exchange that never becomes a signed document, and therefore never satisfies s.90(3).
Frequently asked questions
I used a cover design service that came with my publishing package. Who owns it?
Read the package terms. Bundled cover design is very often licensed, not assigned, and the licence may be tied to staying with that provider. This is one of the places the difference bites hardest, because leaving the provider can mean leaving the cover.
What about a cover made with AI image tools?
The designer can only give you what they have, and AI-generated imagery raises ownership questions their contract cannot settle on its own. The warranty clause is doing the heavy lifting. Our guide on copyright in AI-written and AI-generated work covers the UK position.
Does the designer’s contract need to be signed by hand?
No. Section 90(3) requires writing and a signature, and an electronic signature is capable of satisfying that. What it cannot be is purely oral, or an unsigned document.
Can I just re-draw the cover myself to get around it?
Reproducing a substantial part of an artistic work is infringement whether you traced it or rebuilt it. If the new version is close enough that someone would recognise it, you have a problem. Commission something genuinely new instead.
The designer has disappeared. What are my options?
You keep whatever licence you have, express or implied, which normally covers continuing to sell the book as published. You cannot get an assignment from someone you cannot reach, so you do not get the extra uses. If the cover matters commercially, commission a replacement you own.
Do I need this if I made my own cover?
No. You made it, so under s.11(1) you are the first owner. Check your font and stock image licences anyway — those are separate from copyright in your design.
Final thoughts
The pattern is the same one that catches authors with ghostwriters and editors: UK copyright starts with the person who made the thing, and money does not move it. Only a signed assignment does.
For a cover the sensible target is not total ownership of every pixel, which is not available once stock assets are in the mix. It is ownership of the designer’s own work, a written record of what sits underneath it, and a warranty that they were entitled to use it. That combination is what lets you say yes when someone asks for a boxset, a foreign edition, or an option.
Once the cover is settled, the file still has to meet the printer’s spine and bleed maths. If you would rather not do that part, our formatting service handles the cover wrap and interior from £69.
— Robert publishing.co.uk
Want the contract itself? The UK Author Legal Pack has a cover designer agreement that assigns the designer’s own work and records the licensed assets underneath it, plus a ghostwriter agreement that does the same job for text, the permission-to-quote letter, ARC reviewer terms, a copyright page, and the legal deposit duty most self-publishers miss. Editable Word and PDF, every statutory claim carrying the section number it came from. £29.
