Is there such a thing as 'idea theft'?

(This first appeared in The Independent Journalist, the freelancing blog by the Society of Professional Journalists.)

Picture yourself in this situation, if you haven’t already: You’ve pitched a story idea to a newspaper, magazine or online editor, received a nod of acknowledgement either in person or by correspondence and words of praise but not commitment, was thanked for your input and then left with the impression the editor would get back to you for follow-up. Days, weeks, maybe months pass without that follow-up.

Then, forewarning aside, the same story idea turns up, in almost the identical context as your pitch, in the editor’s publication.

The first natural thought is, “That (insert your favorite insult here) stole my idea!” A grand display of teeth-gnashing, fist-clenching and floor-pacing follows, and soon after arises the notion to give that editor a piece of your mind.

But before you do, consider two things. First, if you intend to give someone a piece of your mind, remember to leave enough for yourself. And second, the likelihood that the editor “stole” your idea is indefensible and improbable.

The truth is, nobody “owns” a story idea. Those thoughts swirling around in our heads afford no collateral by themselves. We like to think they do because of the inspiration they give us and the biased belief that nobody else had them. But unless an idea is written down, it doesn’t technically exist. And even then, it must be copyrighted before the owner can pursue and expect compensation for theft.

When an “original” story idea winds up flowing from someone else’s pen or keyboard, a few factors probably came into play:

It wasn’t original — Across decades and thousands of publications, assorted story themes have been hashed and rehashed, with tweaks made here and color added there as freshener. Arguably, the idea you’re pitching took root the same way it did for another writer, and another writer before that. Inspiration takes many forms, one being the unanticipated reflection of another person’s inspiration.

Bad timing — Chances are, too, the publication had an idea much like yours on its calendar. Publications of all sorts stockpile ideas and schedule them well in advance to keep their production on track; your idea might have been on the docket or in process long before it became “your” idea.

Editor’s prerogative — Part of what editors do daily is determine the optimum bang for a publication’s buck, and that includes finding the best writers and reporters for particular story ideas. Experience, talent, resourcefulness, enterprise — these all factor highly when editors assign a story to one person instead of another. Bear in mind though, this does not imply greater general competence; rather, it points to specific competencies certain stories need to shine.

Lack of expertise — Along that line, for freelancers, this suggests they develop and hone special skills and have a “niche” they can call their own. An editor shopping a story idea on mutual funds or needlepoint, or seeking and editor who can easily clarify either story, will choose talent they know has better-than-average knowledge of those topics before tossing it up to the crowd. When making a pitch, prove not only the story idea’s value but yours as well.

Of course, not every editor or publication possesses sterling intent and unassailable character. Because ideas lack easy protection, it’s possible for editors to plumb for ideas after their dependable reserves of material dry up, or their motives are unmasked, but this is bound to bring them detrimental long-term results. The various publishing industries, whether print or electronic, are close-knit environments made tighter through the nation’s economic tumult over the past four years. That and the rise of social media have forged both direct and relational connections between writers and editors that were once unimaginable.

So basically, editors who lift others’ ideas too often risk their reputations and their jobs, an unwise tactic to take in a shrinking marketplace.

But to be sure, writers can employ tactics of their own against the concept of “idea theft”:

Research — Look into a publication’s background regarding freelance work. Learn the publication’s policies and practices, and try talking with other freelancers to see how they were treated. Above all, read through as many back issues as you can find, to see what ideas have been done and how they were presented.

Confidentiality — Ask editors to keep ideas confidential and extend the courtesy of a reply once they know whether to go with the story. No editor is obligated to do this, but it doesn’t hurt to ask. And if the pitch is submitted in print, clarify the confidentiality concern with a line or two making the same request. Furthermore, keep story sources out of written proposals where possible, if for no other reason than to protect their confidentiality as well.

Contact — Stay in touch with editors, but don’t hound them. A call, email or note after a couple of weeks to remind them you’re eager to get to work is OK. Maybe mention, too, that other editors have expressed interest in the story, but say this only in honesty. Don’t make allegations or claims that editors can verify but you can’t.

Patience — Most editors, no matter the publication, are swamped with offers and ideas amid their other work. Weeks may pass before they’re able to give a response. So, scrutinize the calendar and plan to give pitches well ahead of the events they address. Harried editors will appreciate it.

Getting more credit than it deserves

Thanks, Pulitzer. Thanks a whole bunch. Now, I’m seriously worried.

Not the nail-chewing, hand-wringing, garment-rending kind of worry, but the one emblematic of watching a lit match burn too close to my fingers. Because I believe that soon, something seriously bad is going to happen.

And it’s all because you bestowed the award for national reporting on The Huffington Post, America’s aggregator-general and chronic cut-and-paste punchline.

On Monday, the Pulitzer committee honored military correspondent David Wood’s 10-part series on the long-term affects of war on our wounded soldiers and their families. The heart-wrenching “Beyond the Battlefield” series comprised eight months of research and interviews of military men and women who, Wood said, “wanted to tell their story because they view their wounds as medals of honor, symbols of their sacrifice.”

The series and its award have lifted the 7-year-old Huffington Post into the pantheon of “serious” news publications, mostly print-based, that have for years looked down on their online brethren as ugly stepchildren — “HuffPost” in particular. That’s because since going live in 2005, the site has garnered more attention for what it didn’t do journalistically than what it did.

HuffPost has been called a safe harbor for pseudoscience apologists, a slap-dash content mill unaccustomed to crediting original source work, and a salary-free sweatshop offering false promises of credibility to aspiring bloggers seeking national attention.

Even its founder Arianna Huffington, perhaps the most powerful woman online today, has been hit with plagiarism charges regarding two books she wrote in the 1980s, with one claim settled out of court and the other not prosecuted.

Assorted running jokes imply that HuffPost is where journalists go to see how their stories were rewritten, and where business editors go to read the Wall Street Journal without paying for it. A gag on “Saturday Night Live” featuring an Arianna Huffington lookalike has her claiming HuffPost copied content directly from The New York Times on coverage of Prop 8, with knowing laughter instead of shock or dismay following the punchline.

And this is why I’m worried — not that HuffPost is too much of a punchline to warrant Pulitzer’s attention, but that the prize ascribes more credibility to HuffPost than it deserves.

Though the award went to one reporter and one story series, the fact that Pulitzer’s prizes have such distinguished reputations brings everyone involved to share in the honor. This is why, at nearly every publication that has won a prize, the award is displayed prominently as representative of the entire publication, not just one or more diligent reporters.

We see it elsewhere, too. When the Super Bowl trophy is handed out at the end of the big game, every player gets the chance to touch it, kiss it, hold it. One player may be the MVP, but winning the Lombardi Trophy is a team effort, so everyone shares a stake in the reward. So it goes at Pulitzer-winning publications.

The award also instills tacit vindication for the way newspapers go about their business. Not only the result, but also the process is cherished, and thus  journalism conferences often feature Pulitzer winners giving presentations on “How I did it,” or “How I won it,” or “What we did to get it.” These presentations are almost always the best-attended at these conferences.

But the impact goes deeper. The Pulitzer also is taken by winning publications as tangential proof that the psychology inside the operation is award-winning as well — that the way a publication conducts its internal affairs sets the table for Pulitzer’s praise. Thus, prize-winning operations see the Pulitzer as not just a reward for individual work well done, but also for the operational state of mind behind that work.

And thus, Arianna Huffington can now promote her company’s Pulitzer win as justification for all the questionable behavior either known to be going on or alleged to be going on inside her shop. After all, she’s bound to say with that award held up for all to see, isn’t this what it’s all about?

I’d like to think that hunk of metal has more significance. I’d like to think the ultimate symbol of responsible, ethical journalism is intangible, understated, yet prominent enough in the minds of American citizens that they choose to turn their attention to it every day, whether in paper or digital form.

A good, solid reputation in journalism is not something acquired from routinely borrowing or reinventing other’s work without giving due credit. With the attention of the journalism community squarely on her, Arianna Huffington has the chance now to change her publication’s ways and drive that point home. The alternative is for HuffPost to continue doing as it always has: serve as a punchline that gives serious journalism a black eye.

 

Further tips on self-editing

Ignorance is one of those things that doesn’t improve with practice. Yet a lot of writers in all corners of the craft insist their prime obligation is committing ideas to words, and whether it’s the right word is not always their concern.

“The first draft, I’m just trying to get everything down,” a book author told me. “After that, I leave it up to my editor most times to clean it up.”

This approach is fine for getting ideas down as fast as they come to mind; in fact, I endorse it. Lately though, I’ve seen more blogs, short stories, novels and non-fiction works come out in final form that suggest the commitment to clean-up was abbreviated or lacking altogether. What these shoddy pieces portend is embarrassment for the author, the publisher, and potentially the readers who expected professional work in the first place.

Blame this boom in boo-boos on the ease of electronic publishing, which has reduced the gap between writing and marketing to a barely perceptible slit and goads us into stream-of-consciousness creativity. We are all just a keystroke away from fame and fortune, we’d like to think. Thus, we’re inclined to rush the process.

In a previous post I broached a few basic tips for freelancers to improve their editing. Here, I offer more to consider, such as:

Creating a “mission statement” — Have reason and focus when writing. Don’t hang the hope that “something will come to me” on protracted banging of the keyboard. A goal can guide thinking, and clear thinking guides creativity. Establish goals at the beginning so that your purpose is obvious at the end.

Thinking about brevity when writing briefly — Writing space always is at a premium, even online. So, too, is the readers’ attention. Research has shown that readers flip through Web pages faster than printed ones, which means writers have less time than ever to make a good impression. Short, punchy words tend to help in this regard. Long words can trip up readers and force them to stumble through one’s prose, if they bother staying around long enough to finish.

Using active verbs — And speaking of brevity, active verbs take up less space than passive ones, because the passive ones are bigger and heavier and need modifiers to carry them along. Active verbs can stand alone and bear their own weight. Sure, passive verbs have a place in English — wherever slow, ponderous writing is a premium.

Avoiding redundancies — There’s really no reason to say the same thing more than once in writing. Let me repeat: There’s really no reason to say the same thing more than once. Unless you’re doing it for effect.

Trimming fat — Closely related to redundancy is excess verbiage — usually, the adjectives, adverbs and prepositions that pad our speech. Though it seems when first written that they help drive home a particular point, they in fact delay gratification or they overstate an idea. Use adjectives sparingly, limit adverbs to those times when it’s absolutely necessary to alter the verb’s definition, and make sure prepositions are always in their place, which is very close to, if not next to, the object they’re supposed to modify.

Doing the math — Just about all the journalists I know drifted into writing as a career in part because they were poor mathematicians, or had a natural aversion to numbers. Words were their passion. The thing is, good reporting often relies on making sure things add up the way they should, whether the scale of measure is math or logic. Take time to check the math. Or get someone else who’s good with numbers to do it for you.

Paying attention to personal quirks — This speaks broadly to everything said above. Our shortcomings are characteristic of our personalities. Detail-oriented people may miss seeing the big picture, while big-picture people may gloss over subtle distinctions. Still others have trouble in general with spelling or grammar or word usage. Subdue your ego long enough to gain perspective of personal writing or reporting flaws, even if it means asking other people about them, because those flaws could be the first things readers see in your writing.

Pacing yourself — Speed is essential in typing tests but not thoughtful writing. Sure, deadlines constrain our penchant for doing things in free-form ways, but taking care to prepare for a writing or editing project can eliminate scheduling and organizational obstacles that slow us down. With careful preparation comes time to think clearly and carefully about what we’re writing, and given adequate time we can pace our production. 

Editing more than once — In my line of work, however, speed counts. Newspapers never are casual places, and the closer to deadline my colleagues and I get the more prone we are to hurrying through our edits to news copy. This is not acceptable behavior, mind you, just one of the vagaries of deadline journalism. Freelancers, on the other hand, have rather more control over their schedules, and fortunately, more control over the editing process. They should understand that one re-read does not constitute a good edit; two, three, even four re-reads is much better. Because our minds slip into comfort zones as our bodies do, we’ll easily read past some errors while we’re keyed in to finding others.

If it helps, edit a piece at least three times taking three approaches: first, editing for story structure and clarity; second, for spelling; and third, for grammar. Dividing your focus on purpose improves the chances you’ll catch more errors and heighten your credibility.