Showing posts with label Originality. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Originality. Show all posts

Monday, June 16, 2014

Originality and Plagiarism

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Oh, what amazing times we live in!

I recently heard that kids as young as second grade were being taught the concept of plagiarism.  The person who was telling me this (my wife and I are blessed with not having access to television, and so live in blissful ignorance of all the disgusting plagiarism that is taking place out there) was indignant, not so much with the rampant plagiarism that is rotting the very tissue of society, but that children of the tender age of, say, seven, were having to puzzle over the demands of originality.  I had to agree.  (The image at right is actually resident at another website; my use of it without providing a reference will be construed to be plagiarism.)

Little kids, of course, are struggling to use words and sentences, and we naturally teach them the skillful and idiomatic use of their (admittedly intractable) mother tongue through the use of models.  We were all taught that way, and some of us were lucky enough to be steeped with brilliant passages from Shakespeare, and Milton and the Bible, as Professor Henry Higgins said.  The more erudite among us can hardly utter a sentence without using phrases, and even entire sentences, that derive from literature (that is, stuff that we have read.  Of course, we were shamelessly reading a lot of stuff, a vice we indulged in in our misguided youth).  I used to quote heavily from P. G. Wodehouse and Leslie Charteris, my favorite authors when I was growing up.  Now, ironically, my friends think that many of these phrases are Archie specials, and I’m too lazy to tell them their origins, because it usually involves such deep questions as “Who the heck are those people?”  These days, as long as you stick to short sentences of words of one syllable, you’re fairly safe; the computer programs that check for originality usually let pass a quotation consisting of a single word.

Grade school teachers, you see, have been provided an operational definition of originality.  You take a sample of writing, which is to be tested for originality.  You feed it into a computer program which compares it with all the samples of text that are contained in its database, and if there are no matches beyond a certain length, JOY!  The sample is certified as original.  So, in the absence of a truly useful definition of what it means for the essay of a student to be original, young teachers (who were themselves students in college when the Great Leap Forward of the Witch-hunt Against Plagiarism exploded into being) have resorted to this procedure to establish originality.

Let us rewind to an earlier time, when teachers had to puzzle over the problem of plagiarism (spelled without capitals, here, or 'Caps', as they are fondly called these days) in the essays students turned in.  Teachers need to teach their pupils to write, and so they assign students to write what are called essays (yes, I know you’re intimately acquainted with these things) about some topic, which is usually a compromise between a topic of interest to the teacher, and a topic of interest to the students.  We all know what a chore it is to write such a thing.  But, fast forward to the present day.  On any given day, close to a million idiots out there are putting out a BLOG POST; including my humble self.  What is a blog post?  An essay.

So teachers assign their students to write a blog post on some topic, which, once they arrive on the teacher’s desk, must be taken home, and read.  The teacher has to reluctantly read the essays (or blog posts) which between twenty and thirty students have reluctantly written.  Usually, students write pure pap; sometimes the students write something substantial with the help of their parents.  Sometimes the parents write the essays for their kids.  Sometimes, especially older kids, steal the material from the Internet.

Since standards of writing have declined over the years, teachers, in desperation, require an ever greater volume of writing from their students, who turn to the systematic theft of writing from other sources.  If we were to actually find out to what extent students submit material that did not originate with themselves, we would lose faith in all that we hold dear.

Plagiarism, is, in its essence, the submission of the work of someone else as your own.  In contrast, today, plagiarism is defined indirectly as presenting a plagiarized piece of work, and a plagiarized piece of work is defined, in turn, as something which contains a significant portion which matches up with something already in a database.

To make things perfectly clear, if one were to submit work that essentially matches up with something in the database, I suppose that an argument could be made that one is handing in the work of someone else as one’s own, but there’s always the chance that it was not intended to be deceitful.  Plagiarism that happens unwittingly cannot be considered a culpable offense; it deserves the term plagiarism only if there is intent to deceive.

I have many problems with this whole business.

First of all, I’m not at all sure that assigning writing on topics that do not inspire the student is helpful.  For instance, if I were forced to make a blog post about something completely outside my interests, such as the voting habits of Buddhists in Montana (and bless them, anyway) I would end up stealing most of it from the Internet.

Secondly, there are relatively easy ways of ensuring that essays are original.  One way is to ask the students to write a brief paragraph right in the classroom.  Then you ask the students to expand it into three paragraphs at home.  You can then check the two versions to see if extraneous material from possibly Internet sources (if that is what you’re worried about) have crept in.  It is my belief that, if the student gets help from older relatives on the essay, and if there is an aspect of plagiarism involved, we could safely overlook it, because it is sure to have been a learning experience anyway.  Sometimes older relatives are worse writers than the students themselves, and I suspect that the student will soon arrive at this conclusion him- or herself.)

Thirdly, the problem of being unoriginal at the phrase or sentence level is not problematic, and should not be confused with truly large-scale plagiarism.  (However, when a kid uses uncharacteristic phrases in an essay, it is taken as a clue that plagiarism has crept in.  But is a teacher clever enough to know how characteristic a particular phrase is for a given student?  Kids pick up phrases like cats pick up fleas.)  My own writing, for instance, will most certainly contain numerous phrases and sentences that might be found in literature of one sort or another, especially if I were to be writing on Bach or Mozart.  Nothing I have ever written has been so original as to have escaped earlier writers, some of whom I may have read at one time or another.  Computers are wonderful things, but it seems a mistake to rely on mechanical aids to ensure that learning is taking place.  This is one reason why I just don’t believe in distance-learning for younger students, who are still at the stage where they’re being made to learn material reluctantly.  (When I was in college, I looked forward to every lesson; this is not the case with kids in college today.  They learn everything reluctantly, and this has a bearing on the entire plagiarism debate.)  Today’s computer just might be smarter than today’s teachers.  It’s okay for me, as a private individual, to suspect that, but it is deplorable for administrators and legislators to take that point of view.

Some of this preoccupation with originality is a cultural thing, of the same mindset as that which wants to enforce copyrights and patents, and digital rights management (DRM).  When the benefits of originality are measured in dollars and cents, in a certain perverse sense it seems reasonable to inculcate in the very young the means of making a living from their originality.  But unfortunately, it seems to be taking the route of teaching kids not to get caught infringing the plagiarism rules.  Research today is often misconstrued to mean: read up about the subject, and report on what you have read in such a way that a plagiarism detector will not accuse you of copying the article.  The assignment is ambiguous: find out what others have done, but make it your own.  Some geniuses are perfectly content to work with this paradoxical instruction.  I sincerely doubt whether it can be done honestly.

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Sunday, January 31, 2010

In defense of AVATAR: What Price, Originality?

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A few days ago, I watched the movie Avatar in 3D. I had heard Kenneth Turan (L.A. Times), who reviews movies for NPR say (possibly quoting someone; I could not find a good transcript on the Web) that the script sounded as though it was all the movies of the past "put in a blender." In other words, the script was being faulted for a lack of originality.

A few years ago, a colleague of mine, a teacher, an immigrant, was trying to explain to his class that, starting from the basic information that they were learning in class, they could create "something new." At that time, I had only a vague idea of what kind of originality was being referred to, here, but as time passes, I am beginning to see what the message was, and how it could be interpreted in a variety of ways.

The idea of originality is the standard-bearer of the American Economy. The Better Mousetrap was the first poster-boy of American Ingenuity, and over the last century or so, the American Economy has set itself up as the champion of all that is good about America, and has set up American Ingenuity as the engine that drives the American Dream: Even You can Be A Millionaire! Go to school, and learn all about Better Mousetraps, and BUILD ONE!

Record companies are driving themselves crazy, protecting their particular brand of musical mousetraps; the latest manifestation of this is the downloadable music cut, which (unlike a favorite record,) you cannot give to a friend. Kindle, Amazon.com's bid to create books that keep on giving to them, but not to the purchaser, is an attempt to extend the power of copyright. DRM is an attempt by certain sectors of the movie industry to limit the life of DVDs sold to the public. Everything we buy is being chained to some sort of planned obsolescence.

Together with the Gutenberg Project, The Gnu organization, founded by Richard Stallman and others, seems the lone standouts against this movement to monetize ideas systematically. Around the world --most significantly, the Western Hemisphere-- programmers and software engineers, as well as amateurs, are working to develop software that is free to all users. (Not free to exploit commercially, but free to use.)

What is the cause of this madness to control intellectual commodities? One reason could be that the US is finding it harder to find raw materials for physical commodities, and has to glorify "intellectual" commodities instead. Though in principle intellectual commodities are an inexhaustible source of wealth, the World will surely run out of spectacular ideas that make really big bucks one of these days. The industry of higher education, most notably the PhD manufacturing business (of which your blogger is also a beneficiary, to our embarrassment) is based on the fact that anyone desiring to join the ranks of academia should be able to write a thesis based on original research. It used to be the case that the lucky few who discovered something worthy were encouraged to document it in a dissertation, on the strength of which they would be awarded a doctorate. But this is America. If you are a professor, you should be able to do original research all the time, and advance your way through the ranks to the extent that your colleagues approve of your scholarship. The assumption is: If you're smart enough, you can do it. As a consequence, many of our best and brightest are sifting through the trash-heaps of knowledge, trying to find some trivial result that will earn them the coveted degree, which was originally intended to qualify one to teach. How much this intellectual scavenging equips one to prepare to teach is something that continues to puzzle many. It is amazing that this cadre of intellectual garbagemen succeed in teaching our sons and daughters anything. As for myself, what has helped me is less the nightmare of research than the fascinating hours I spent in the classroom, with instructors who happened to be decidedly not under pressure to publish.

Coming back to Avatar, the basis of its plot is how an Earth human, sent out to mingle with members of an alien society with a view to negotiating the rights to mine some miracle mineral, finds himself sympathizing with the aliens.   (Added later: in a purely sci-fi/fantasy setting, there would be speculation as to whether the aforementioned mineral might be the cause of, or be somehow related to, the amazing physical and mental powers of the natives.  This theme is found in the Phase/Proton books of Piers Anthony.)

Certainly, this is a recurring theme in fiction and in literature. Why? Because it is a recurring theme in post-14th century World History, a tragic strand in American history, one of the reasons for WW2, and indirectly one of the engines of the current wave of terrorism. The Arabs, and Muslims throughout the world, know that the US wants the oil in Iraq. Even if the US leaves peacefully, the original invasion, and the resulting loss of life, will be blamed on oil-hunger, no matter how much it is subsequently smoothed over.

In addition to the spectacular visuals, there is much to be said about Avatar. More than the stunning effects of Star Wars (whose achievements the present movie hardly devalues), I was reminded of Kubrik's "2001", a movie that must have inspired my generation far more than Star Wars inspired that of our children. The glamor of technology just 20 years in the future is greater than that of several centuries to come! (or that of galaxies far, far away.) After all, we can imagine living this dream. So, to conclude, the beauty of Avatar, even if it's limitations in the area of writing and plot are deemed fatal by some critics, lies in the execution of the ideas. I personally did not like the endless violence, the huge explosions, the scenes of devastation (though they were, in retrospect, unavoidable, and minimal, given the story line,) and some of the repetition. But the flaws were forgivable.

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