Plagiaristic Tendencies

Attempting to not care when others steal your ideas.

First, my simple advice if you’re thinking about plagiarizing another artist: don’t.

Easy enough, right? Just don’t— or stop, if you’re already doing it. But you and I both, reader, know that’s unlikely. There will always be those, so-called "artists," who salivate over someone else’s great idea. They see how it sells, how popular and digestible it is, and they’re consumed by a lust so overwhelming it convinces them they have no choice but to steal it and pass it off as their own.

To be clear, I’m not talking about being inspired by another artist—that’s something entirely different, at least to me. But I guess I’m self-aware enough to understand where the line is before I cross into theft. Here’s my simple trick for knowing: if I have to question whether I’m stealing an idea, I probably am. That’s it. Every person reading this inherently understands that. A guilty conscience needs no accuser. If you choose to bypass that understanding, you’re actively choosing to ignore the truth of what you’re doing.

Recently, I’ve noticed a troubling increase in photographers not just borrowing my ideas but outright copying them. Same location style, same type of model, same composition, same execution. The only missing ingredient? The aesthetic—the intangible feel and emotional resonance of the photograph. That’s something I’ve spent years honing, and it’s what sets unique artists apart from the crowd. You can’t mimic je ne sais quoi.

Still, they will try. They work so hard to replicate what you’ve created—the essence you’ve captured and solidified. And while they’ll never fully succeed, it’s maddening to see them attempt it. So, you take the high road. You force yourself to ignore it and move on. But let’s be real; the high road is neither desirable nor easy. In fact, it’s often harder than the theft itself. Copying is easy; originality is not.

I don’t have a perfect solution for how to handle this, which is why the subtitle of this piece is “Attempting to not care when others steal your ideas.” Some days, I can let it go without a second thought. Other days, it eats away at me. But here’s what I do know— every time I see another photographer (or insert your medium, reader) copying my work, it compels me to create something even more original—something no one has ever done before. Because honestly, I think the whole notion of “everything has already been done” is bullshit. It hasn’t.

I’ll end this rant with the widely used cliché: “Imitation is the sincerest form of flattery.” You hear it so often because, in a way, it’s true. On one hand, it’s an obnoxiously passive-aggressive way of brushing off the fact that someone is copying your work—suggesting you should justify it and simply move on. I’m not always on board with that, hence this newsletter. On the other hand, it’s entirely accurate. The plagiarists know exactly what they’re doing, and they still choose to do it. The idea you had was compelling enough to be stolen, which ultimately validates its originality and strength. Somewhere within that realization lies a shred of optimism. Whether or not you choose to embrace it, though, is entirely up to you.