A Surviving Facts Blog
Imagine turning on the TV (we’re talking the 1990s here) to listen to an address from a then well-liked NYC mayor. He’s talking about a topic you care about deeply- affordable housing. In fact, since you and your spouse have moved to New York from Oklahoma- the entire U-Haul across the country venture- you’ve been pushed ever deeper into iffy neighborhoods looking for “affordable” housing. Your husband is in grad school and you’re a university administrator barely making ends meet, in spite of the prestigiousness of the institution at which you work and the complexity of your role. You now live in a Brooklyn neighborhood with the closest transportation being the only subway line that doesn’t go into Manhattan. At night, the city closes most of the gates to the subway and you are forced to exit the subway by the projects and traipse alone in the dark in make-do construction corridors to get to your street. Your street has an abandoned home for “old ladies”- the carved concrete on the front of the home calls it exactly that- with gaping empty windows and rats scuttling in the yard. You always hold your keys between your fingers ready to be used for self-defense.
So this is a passionate subject for you. In comparison, you see your husband’s cohorts in grad school. A South Korean whose parents bought their son an entire brownstone in the village. A daughter of an overseas publisher whose parents ensconced their daughter in a doorman-guarded glass high rise on the Upper East side. One thing is for sure: New York City is made for the rich.
But that’s not you. You feel the lack of access to safe housing so keenly that you write a letter to the NYC mayor mentioned above. He has said affordable housing will be a priority for him. So on the day of his news conference, you eagerly move the dial (again, it’s the 1990s) to the noon- time briefing. Today, he’s going to address THE issue, the one you think about and care about every day.
As you listen, something starts to pick at your thoughts. The words of the mayor’s speech are weirdly familiar, so familiar you start repeating the words along with him- simultaneously.
Psychic? No. I wrote them. One of his aids, I’m sure, lifted the words exactly from the letter I had written, and here they were in a famous Mayor’s press briefing.
This bothers me. It still does. As a writer who wrote speeches for university deans and presidents, for company CEOs and Chairpersons, I was hyper committed to the integrity and authenticity of their words. I was responsible for putting words into their mouths. I wanted them to feel these were their words and for them to be protected from any form of copyright infringement.
But then there’s TS Eliot. He said, “good writers copy, great writers steal.” Clearly, he’s questioning whether anything is original anymore. I refuse to believe there isn’t. We can be inspired by others’ work but to lift and reuse without attribution, nope. Just nope. Words are too precious. Writing is too hard. Just as with music lyrics, beats, content creators and choreographers, we must respect the energy, vision and effort of the creator
When I heard said mayor using my words. I ran to my computer. That’s what many of us do when faced with our own competence- we doubt it. But there it was. I read it along with him. And then I had momentary fantasies of a request to be a speechwriter where one day maybe I could even write for a president. Well, obviously that didn’t happen.
Recently, I decided to find the speech in which my original content was “reused.” I first researched speeches available online, including video press conferences between 1997-1999. When that didn’t result in success, I reached out to the library that retains supposedly all of the speeches of New York City Mayors. The librarians were extremely helpful, and I’m now culling through thousands of snippets. Will I find the actual video? It doesn’t matter if I do. Those days have passed. I did, however, find my floppy disk with my letter.
After the Mayor used my words in his speech, nothing changed for me. I continued my university job before starting a new one. I continued to write for distinguished men and women. I gladly gave my talents to help others carry an important message. That’s often what writers do: they enable someone else’s success. They tell powerful stories that will reside in the minds of readers and listeners.
From where I am sitting now, however, I see that moment representing how unfair and unappreciative of talent our society can be. Some poor staffer was struggling with words and happened to come across my letter. Rather than reaching out to me, this writer thought… “Hmm, this is better than what I’m coming up with, no one will know.” They got credit; I remained invisible.
I went on to achieve success in other ways and neither was harmed nor gained from the experience. As far as I know. What would have happened if I had gotten credit. What opportunities would have opened? I’ll never know.
What I do know is that karma seems to be real. This said mayor has lost respect and is mostly ridiculed these days. In fact, I just saw an article that he is being required to pay up for a settlement against him. Karma, baby. It inspired me to write this post.
For the rest of us… Times have changed. Respect of content creators across many art forms has increased, and copyright and attribution are a must. The new rule: if you use it, attribute it. Respect the talent and capability it took. I was actually beginning to attribute ghost company writers before I left my last position. I know how hard these people work. While originally, I had supported the invisible writer, I had shifted to a subtle form of “with contribution from.”
I recently learned about a book an acquaintance published using a ghostwriter. No attribution. The book is about a personal experience. The book may do just fine, and that ghost writer may be perfectly happy with the payment they got, but I know I will not be supporting the book. I can get behind coauthoring, but ghosting, no.
In a world where so much is fake and stolen, we need to lift ourselves up to champion integrity and authenticity. We need new and updated laws that give creators credit for their talents. I believe there’s room enough to honor one person’s story and the writer who brings it to life.
So join me. Champion creator credit. Acknowledge those who may have written for you, and allow creators to gain financial and reputational benefits from their talents. Here’s an idea: what if the staff writer got a bonus every time the CEO used their work- speeches, presentations, articles? I can hear the response.- that would cost so much! Well, we are already paying CEOs ever growing salaries as well as perks such as company cars, golf fees, apartments they don’t even use and maids. Perhaps some of these expenses could be rethought? Redistributed to the laborer. What a concept!
Steve Jobs said,
“Here's to the crazy ones. The misfits. The rebels. The troublemakers. The round pegs in the square holes. The ones who see things differently. They're not fond of rules. And they have no respect for the status quo. You can quote them, disagree with them, glorify or vilify them. About the only thing you can't do is ignore them. Because they change things. They push the human race forward. And while some may see them as the crazy ones, we see genius. Because the people who are crazy enough to think they can change the world, are the ones who do.”
These misfits, renegades, crazy ones- they are the creators. And they deserve recognition.
Walk the Moon 