If your possessions are stolen there is at least a chance that they can be replaced. But taking someone’s work is theft of their time and energy, something that can never be replaced. If you put your name on someone else’s work without crediting the source of the ideas this is widely acknowledged as unethical, but although it can get you expelled from college it is not illegal. Copyright violation, which involves near word for word reuse of material under copyright protection IS illegal, and for this the original writer has recourse. The Atlantic has often published on plagiarism in several articles such as this article, and as recently as today with the flap over Melania Trump’s use of sections of Michelle Obama’s speech. So although the magazine acknowledges use of the work of others without attribution an issue worthy of coverage, they have not rectified the unacknowledged use of my published research by a writer in their on-line piece.
If imitation is the sincerest form of flattery, then I suppose I should be honored to have my work used by a New York Times best-selling non-fiction author like Andrea Wulf. But all I felt when I ran across her Atlantic piece on Maria Sibylla Merian was dismay. Some brief background on the historical figure in question: Maria Sibylla Merian was trained as an artist but began raising caterpillars through metamorphosis when she was 13 and went on to write, illustrate and publish four influential books on her findings. She has been celebrated as an artist, but my own work (I am a biologist) focuses on the revolutionary science in her work. Years of work, travel to libraries in several countries and a good deal of digging through books in multiple languages went into two pieces (linked here and here) that I published in 2011 on this remarkable early ecologist (born in 1647).
Much of Wulf’s article is background on Merian that has become well-known among historians of art and science, and using this type of material without attribution is probably acceptable in a piece like this, as “common knowledge.” But my key ideas- that this 17th century woman was the first to put plants and animals together in their habitat in ecological compositions, and that she was very influential on how nature was portrayed- were based on hours and hours examining centuries-old books. To understand the importance of Merian’s work you must compare her books to those who went before her and to those that came after. This is not only time consuming, but expensive, and I wrote several grants to support my travel and also to pay an expert for translation of Merian’s work from 17th century German. Some of this commissioned translation also appears in Wulf’s piece in The Atlantic, again without attribution. A first-year college student might not realize what goes into original scholarly research, but Ms. Wulf certainly does, making her use of my work without attribution puzzling at best.
For the busy reader, here are just two excerpts from Wulf’s piece followed by my own work (there are several more areas of troubling congruence,, so this is just a sample):
- Wulf, referring to Merian working with caterpillars: She pocked (sic), squeezed, and prodded them to note how they ‘roll up,’ ‘twist and turn violently,’ or ‘lie there as if dead.’
- Etheridge ‘First Ecologist’ p. 39: She also recounted the specific defensive behaviors for different types of caterpillars, writing for one species that “if these large caterpillars are touched while crawling along a stem, they roll up; but if they are squeezed they twist and turn violently” (translated from Merian, Der Raupen 1679, 93). For another type of caterpillar she wrote that “it is by nature very easily alarmed, for as soon as it senses or feels the least thing, it curls itself together at once and lies there as if dead until everything is completely quiet again” (translated from Merian, Der Raupen 1679, 95).
Note: The section above published by me in 2011 recounts three caterpillar defensive behaviors described by Merian in 1679. Wulf published in 2016 the same three examples, using the same translation as in my work, albeit truncated for her shorter type of article in a popular magazine. Any translator will tell you that the odds are pretty long for coming up with the exact same phrasing in English when translating 350-year old German text (archaic words, convoluted syntax). Translation of such material is as much art as science, and interpretations can take multiple forms. More telling is that Wulf used the same three specific passages of Merian’s writing that I used in my book chapter. My choices were taken from hundreds of pages Merian produced in more than five decades of work on insects. As a biologist, I recognized these caterpillar defensive behaviors (among many others Merian listed) when I read the 1679 work, and understood their significance. Recognition of these biological traits would be unlikely for someone without such a background (e.g. Wulf, whose background is as a design historian, according to her website).
- Wulf, in the context of the ecological relationships portrayed by Merian: Her (Merian’s) emphasis on relationships influenced—directly and indirectly—important naturalists and artists such as Mark Catesby, William Bartram, and John James Audubon…
- Etheridge, “The first ecologist”, p. 44: Merian’s influence extended to the next generation of naturalists such as William Bartram…. Likewise, Merian’s influence, either directly or mediated through (Mark) Catesby or Edwards, appears to have shaped the way in which birds were painted by those such as John James Audubon ……
Note: To determine influence on a later writer or artist it is necessary to compare the works side by side and also to research whether the subsequent authors/artists had the opportunity to see the earlier works. Proof of access requires searching for citations (e.g. Mark Catesby cited Merian in his own 18th century books), or evidence that they owned a book by Merian or by someone who copied her (the indirect route of influence). It time-consuming detective work that I enjoy, but for which I should be credited.
As soon as I saw this piece in The Atlantic, I contacted Ross Anderson, the editor of the on-line content. I simply asked for the piece to be edited to credit me where appropriate and for an apology. Articles in the magazine regularly credit sources and link to the authors of the original work, so it is odd that Wulf did not do this. To make the long trail of back and forth communication less tedious, I will just say that although Anderson initially seemed to be following through on this, five weeks have passed since I first contacted his office. In the last email I received on July 8, Anderson wrote that he contacted Wulf, who said “she did in fact read your work“, and that they would be making changes to the article, but her online article remains the same as of my posting today. The Atlantic piece has been up since January, so for six months now, someone else has been receiving credit for my hard work in a piece that has been republished in other on-line outlets, tweeted and retweeted, often with accolades for Wulf’s great writing on such an interesting historical figure.
Perhaps it was thought that work published five years by a biology professor at a small Pennsylvania college would not be noticed as the original source, or that I would go away quietly if they dragged their feet on rectifying the problem. I am sure that it is difficult for an established writer to acknowledge making such an error in judgment, particularly when she is on an international lecture circuit promoting her latest book. This is why I have waiting several weeks before deciding to go public with the issue, hoping they would quietly do the right thing. But thus far, neither The Atlantic nor their author has respected my request, even though I sent a document carefully detailing the areas that were taken from my work (compiling that was another time-consuming task!). Hence, I am publishing this post in order to receive due credit for my research.
On a happier note, my work WAS cited in the catalog for current exhibition on Merian at Buckingham Palace. I was invited to the private opening in the Queen’s Gallery, which was a great treat. I highly recommend seeing this beautiful and educational exhibition if you will be in London while it is up; if not, here is the website. Perhaps as a side benefit more people will read about the fascinating early ecologist, Maria Sibylla Merian. Below are images she made to illustrate her ground-breaking natural history books, showing for the first time the relationships between insects and their host plants.
From Merian’s 1679 Der Raupen on European insects
From Merian’s 1705 Metamorphosis, on the plants and insects of Surinam
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