I read these two stories (stories one and two) on The Daily Cartoonist earlier today, and of course they follow the David Simpson controversy earlier this year (part of which is chronicled here).
I’m glad to see the benefit of the doubt at the end of the first story, and in the quote from Bob Mankoff (New Yorker cartoon editor as well as one of the cartoonists potentially “stolen” from). The creative process for cartoonists is such that an idea can come from anywhere, then percolate ‘til it’s almost unrecognizable from its original form. Hence, it’s often difficult to trace an idea back to its origin. Hence, it’s difficult to tell original ideas that have gone through this process from ideas you saw fully formed years ago and that came to mind when you were thinking about a particular topic. Once, Charles Schulz even ran two cartoons a few months apart that are panel-for-panel the same – He had the same idea and forgot he’d already run it. So clearly something like this can happen innocently. And of course, the mantra that “All Artists are Thieves” (a quote from Glen Keane that I believe was paraphrased from other sources) definitely permeates this entire conversation.
But controversies like this have definite lessons for any cartoonist, and they suggest some things that professionals should plan for.
Central to this issue is the nature of periodicals. News stories, columns and cartoons have never had a long lifespan, and we’ve heard a skrillion times that their relevance is even shorter-lived in the fast-paced world of digital media. But the other side of that coin is that they last forever online, even if they go forgotten.
Twenty years ago if a cartoon was similar to one that ran a decade before, readers would have had to have read it before, remember seeing it before, and remember where they saw it. Only a few readers would be that observant and have that good a memory. Of those, even fewer would have ten-year-old archives of the magazines (or newspapers!) on hand to look through and verify their suspicions. Even if they could have brought this to the attention of the cartoonist’s editor AND the editor agreed something was up, it would probably only lead to any significant action for high-profile syndicated cartoonists.
Today, due to the increased exposure and more niche audience that the Internet creates, it’s significantly more likely that readers of a cartoon are also reading the cartoons from which the idea and/or artwork might be stolen, and it’s also more likely that they are big enough fans of cartoons in general (and of the particular cartoon) to remember more specifically where they’ve seen it before. From there, all it takes for them to verify any suspicions is a few minutes of web searching. Also, even a single reader can bring it to the Internet’s general attention without going through a gatekeeper.
So it means anyone actually practicing plagiarism will definitely be caught, and much sooner than might be expected. But it also means innocent coincidences will be highlighted, and investigated. So cartoonists have to be a bit more aware if they hope to escape accidentally using a great idea that it later turns out they didn’t come up with by themself.
[NOTE: From here on in I use examples and the "hypthetical 'you'" a lot. It's not personal and I think the concept is sound across several types of creativity.]
I think there are two main areas to pay attention to, as a creative person, in order to “keep yourself honest” in regard to inspiration and allay any fears (or accusations) that you’re “ripping someone off “(whether literally plagiarizing [purposely or inadvertently] or just taking a bit too much from the particular things you love).
First, be aware of your process. Most ideas are going to take a significant amount of noodling before they’re executed. For example, you come up with a great concept, and then you refine the wording or dialog ‘til it has just the right ring. Or, you do a few sketches to get just the right facial expression or pose to really sell it. By virtue of this process, even if it’s all just done in your head, you can be assured that you’re not accidentally appropriating existing work.
Every now and then, though, you’re going to be hit over the head with an idea that you get excited about. When you can’t trace the train-of-thought process it doesn’t mean you’re ripping someone else off, but take a minute or two to see if it kind of reminds you of anything. By taking this couple of minutes, you can trace and manage your inspirations, which can be useful more ways than one.
For example, if every third strip you come up with reminds you of Peanuts, eventually you’ll be able to look at your work to find out where the similarities lie. A certain sweet melancholy or style of joke structure is something you can run with and emulate as a great source of inspiration. A character who’s an opinionated loudmouth always kicking the other characters when they’re down isn’t out-and-out plagiarism, but you might want to incorporate some more individualizing traits or use the character less often to avoid slipping into lazy writing and stereotyping. Suddenly realizing that you recognize the phrasing of your punchline might be the point where you hold off on running it ‘til you check into it.
Examining your work this way can really help you identify your sources of inspiration, and keep you honest about the way you use them. Keeping yourself honest about the way you use inspiration lets you run guilt-free with what you’re comfortable emulating.
Second, be aware of your medium. Meaning, be aware of your entire “medium” (for example, cartoons) and not just your genre (for example, “magazine gag cartoons”). Editorial cartoonists, comic book artists, strip cartoonists, and gag cartoonists (which I use here to incorporate recurring features like Bizarro or The Far Side as well as individual spots as might be found in Readers’ Digest or The New Yorker) all offer something a bit different (although of course certain artists blur the line). Being aware of where your process or style fits on this kind of spectrum is useful.
In the case of Jeff Stahler, all three of the spots seem fairly general for your average editorial spot. No specific event or person is the catalyst for the idea, and the general topics (either “the economy” or low employment, bad economy and bank privatization) isn’t boiled down to a particular development. They really do read more like magazine gags – they’re arguably topical, but not very specific.
I don’t know what Stahler’s body of work looks like, so these might have been exceptions rather than the rule. And of course, I’m not saying that editorial cartoonists that deal with general topics need to find new work. But if an editorial cartoonist realizes that they tend to work general, it will have subtle effects on the way he or she reads magazine spots. The spot cartoonist who likes to come back to a particular character or running gag is going to identify to an extent with the craft of strip cartooning, and the strip cartoonist who loves sight gags and wordplay will notice himself taking a page out of the gag cartoon handbook.
It’s very difficult to explain, because it’s not on purpose and barely conscious. But I personally find that when I identify myself with a creative work (comic, TV show, movie) – essentially saying subconsciously, “That’s what I do, too” – I’m a bit more aware of it somehow. I’m less likely to use a particular joke or premise, but more likely to use a type of character interaction or secondary character trait or something.
Basically, by identifying yourself with creative people more broadly, you take less of a chance than any major inspiration will escape your notice.
A keen awareness of your inspiration enables you to run with it, steer it and fuel it more purposefully, which means you’re less likely to accidentally misstep into the realm of “copying.” It used to be a great tool, but I would argue that the seriousness of plagiarism and the transparency digital media brings make it a bit more mandatory in the modern cartoonist’s toolkit than it has been in the past.
Here‘s another perspective on the Jeff Stahler issue.
Of particular note to me was that I didn’t know that he was also a strip cartoonist, which really goes back to my idea of being aware of your genre. In this case, his humor style ran over from one genre (strip cartooning) to the other, I imagine with considerable success. But as is pointed out, trying to fill both shoes daily puts you under a particular kind of pressure that makes it even harder to trace the stream of consciousness a particular idea follows.
Also, the understanding that the cartooning community can, to a degree check itself. I found the implication noteworthy that people knew about Simpson’s controversy for a while, implying a long-standing trend, and Stahler’s instances, although there are a few, have come to light more suddenly and recently.
One last thought (you can read the article for yourself) comes from the post from which I found this article. In it, Alan Gardender notes that “the AAEC membership at this point has more freelance cartoonists than staff cartoonists on its rolls.” This might mean more people straddling the lines of illustration and various types of cartooning, and it potentially also means looser ties within the editorial cartooning community. Both of those are factors that can affect the way that a group of cartoonists adhere to “unwritten” ethical rules.
(PS – I put the other follow-up as its own post because I thought it touched on some other general creativity things. This one became just a comment because it has to do with the specific Stahler case.)