It is an odd feeling to be in an audience or in the throes of watching content and hear your words and ideas spoken by another. And I don’t mean spoken due to a collaboration or speech writing deal, but because a person thought it was okay to hear you, interact with you, and then publicly present this as their own idea.  

At first I was in disbelief. I leaned forward as if that would help me understand what I was hearing. Then anger crept up.  I performed a mental time hop to my last interaction with the people.  My anger dissipated into a solo pity party.  I’m not proud of it but I collapsed into a “woe is me” rumination for a couple of days.  

Fortunately there are dates to support when and where I worked out my ideas and then when they appeared again with a different person.  But proof isn’t actually my goal at the moment 

Ideas are not entirely singular in their origin.  They emerge from conversations, reading, travel, school, and so forth.  Steven Johnson wrote about the formation of ideas in cultural contexts and how time and place and infrastructure weave their way into possibilities for creativity (Where Good Ideas Come From. The Natural History of Innovation).  The philosophical theory of Determinism proposes that no thoughts or ideas are independent of cause.  

There are legal and social costs to egregious forms of taking credit for another’s work; however, what about the times it isn’t a clear “copy & paste” situation?  What if there’s zero legal cost and the only social cost is that the one person who knows unfollows you? Does it matter? 

It would be irresponsible of me to not take stock of my reaction.  I own that.  Upon reflection I needed to face an uncomfortable truth, for while I’m not in control of what another person does, I must be mindful of the trajectory of my response and rumination. 

And in answering the question does it matter? If yes, then how so? In the grand scheme of things no.  I’m not really impacted in a negative way.  My creativity, work, and everything in between can continue to flourish. Since becoming a new mom I’ve had trouble carving out space for the type of solitude and time necessary for serious contemplation.  I can’t exactly lose myself in heavy reading and writing to the soundtrack of Baby Shark.  That is why re-entering my first love, the world of ideas, as a participant and contributor bears a slight weight of worry for me.  Now when I craft something it’s shadowed with a pesty concern of being behind or no longer on my game.  I suspect a lot of moms go through this when they step away for a while.  

Behind my smile and show of confidence is a woman who couldn’t sleep and hoped she could pull off sharing her thoughts like she did years before.  I’d read and re-read, practice, and pace. I’d fret over imaginary slips and/or fallacies.

So, it did matter to me.  And it stung that it didn’t matter to them.  I juggle and focus with a radically new intensity to crank out my thoughts. Maybe I’m trying to prove I’ve still got it. That I can do it. That I matter.

I must keep in mind that the two incidents are the exception.  I regularly bounce ideas off friends in similar disciplines without hesitation.  In turn, I love hearing what others are working on.  If I can assist with their ideas, I’m happy.  

This points to a bigger question regarding character and integrity.  The fact is that the person who takes from others will have to sit with that knowledge about themselves.  They know that I know.  

Giving credit for the origin of ideas is a pleasure.  It is gratitude.  It is humility. This can be as simple as thanking a person for the book they recommended or acknowledging that you heard something great and want to expand upon it.  Ideas are meant to be shared, not taken.  

One might try to claim ignorance of having usurped something they heard and thereby forgetting credit was due.  In the realm of ideas, it is good practice to acknowledge the source(s).  When it comes to bad ideas one generally does not find it problematic to identify and credit the source.  In fact, it is often ruthlessly highlighted.  

But, on the other side of this, either due to vanity or fear, a person may not want to share credit for good ideas.

A few years ago I had the opportunity to give a keynote for my Alma Mater, and in that address I noted the impact of one particular teacher’s approach to the classroom.  Her words and method I have continuously used in my own teaching and now podcasting.  Countless days I’ve started a sentence at the beginning of a semester or an interview with, “My algebra teacher said…”

Whenever I am asked about my process for work, I always return to the origin; an idea from this teacher.  

Little did I know that while I was giving my talk, my former teacher sat in the crowd.  She approached me after, and the moment I recognized her I threw my arms up and embraced her.  We laughed.  We smiled. Over two decades had gone by since I was her student. Being able to say “thank you” to her in person was an experience of profound joy that feels impossible to convey. I am lucky to have heard her words. I am grateful every time I repeat them.  I am elated to credit her.

Giving credit to the ideas that informed or shaped your own is a sign of strength.  It does not detract or negate your evolution in any way; rather, it demonstrates a willingness to be part of something bigger than yourself.