Referencing, plagiarism and building credibility

Plagiarism is a big deal in academia. As students we are told often what a terrible thing it is to plagiarise the work or ideas of others, and that if we do plagiarise we could face serious penalties. Academics have lost jobs, status and reputations over plagiarism – in South Africa there was a famous case in 2007 of ‘Chippy’ Shaik having his PhD degree rescinded as a result of allegedly plagiarising 2/3 of it, and in 2013, Dr Jane Goodall was accused of lifting several passages verbatim or near verbatim from other sources in a book that is scheduled to appear this year. Even outside of academia, cases of plagiarism are taken very seriously – US Senator Rand Paul and Transformers actor Shia Lebouf have both been accused of using the words and ideas of others and passing them off as their own without crediting the original sources.

Plagiarism is not just copying verbatim the words or ideas of others and passing them off as your own. Even when you summarise, paraphrase or incorporate the ideas of others in your own work without citing the original source, you are regarded as a plagiarist. Plagiarism is generally defined as the intentional or reckless use of the words and ideas of others, rather than unintentional or accidental actions, but the burden of proof about intentions is often on the student – how do you show that, if you did plagiarise, you did so accidentally rather than on purpose? One way you could do this is by showing your ‘paper trail’ – all your notes, and reference lists and planning that went into your writing. But this is a hassle, and it’s by far easier to do what you can to avoid plagiarism altogether by keeping track of all your source material, and by working hard on developing your own voice in your writing.

But, for a PhD student, this is not as simple as it may sound for a couple of reasons. The first, big reason, is that as PhD students we read a lot. We read and read and read, we make a lot of notes, and after a while these ideas become part of our own ideas, and the theory we are influenced by and that ‘gels’ with the way we see our research or the world around us really influences how we think. It starts to become difficult to tell our own ideas pre-reading apart from our ideas post-reading. We can, after a while, write 3 or 4 or 5 pages of a ‘literature review’ without even needing to consult a reference. This is how well you end up knowing your stuff. This is a good thing – as a PhD student you need to know your stuff that well. But, the downside is that you have to be really careful not to plagiarise. Which ideas are yours and which are the ideas of other authors and researchers whose work has influenced your own? Which ideas do you have to reference and which ones can you claim as your own?

The second, connected reason, is that avoiding plagiarism and being an honest and ethical writer and researcher is about more than just including references in the text and in a bibliography. If you copy your whole literature review piece by piece and reference it perfectly, you really are still committing a form of plagiarism, and you’re not doing your own research either. Being an honest and ethical writer and researcher requires an understanding of knowledge, and how it is built, debated, challenged and changed in academic communities of practice and research. We build when we research and write – we build on the ideas of others, on their research, on their data, on their methodologies and on their words. We join conversations, and we debate, challenge, dispute, agree and slowly establish our own voice and our own ideas, claims and positions which we hope (and fear) that others will challenge us on. So, even if the idea is also yours (and the writers’ you are citing), referencing well does more than just help you to avoid plagiarism; it helps you to establish the credibility of your voice, your ideas and your developing argument. This is essential for writing a credible and acceptable dissertation, and for ensuring that you do actually get full credit for your own ideas and arguments. If you reference poorly, lose sources and get sloppy, you risk being accused of plagiarism, you risk being discredited and you risk shortchanging yourself on your own intellectual development and growth.

I used two simple tools to help me: One was the P(oint), E(vidence), E(xplanation) paragraph writing structure, which helped me to ensure that I started and ended each paragraph with my own ‘voice’ and included accurately cited and referenced ‘Evidence’ to support my ‘Points’ and ‘Explanation’. As a tool it can be adapted and played with and it really works. The other was a bit techno-backwards, but I kept a manual list in separate file of all the sources I was using as I wrote. I cross-checked this regularly. I had it open whenever I was working on part of a chapter and I copied across the in-text references either at the end of a section or as I wrote, depending on how well or smoothly the writing was going. I regularly went into this list and filled in all the information I needed, and reorganised, cut and added as I went. I know I could have used Refworks, Endnote, Mendeley or other similar tools, but I actually found the effort of learning to use these tools effectively too much for my already-taxed brain. I trusted my system, and that gave me peace of mind. (I don’t think I left out any references, but frankly I am not going back to find out!)

Any tool you use, whether un-technological one like mine or more automated like Refworks etc, is only as good as the person using it. These tools can’t do your writing for you, or make sure you don’t plagiarise or leave references out of your reference list (or leave too many in after chapters get cut). They can’t do the work of developing your voice. But, learning to use particular tools, whichever ones work for you, can save you a lot of time and reduce your anxiety about keeping track of your sources as your PhD progresses. And using these tools to help you reference accurately can also help you show your reader your emerging voice that much more clearly as you write.

Finding and expressing your PhD ‘voice’

I’ve been thinking about this issue of voice a great deal lately, partly because I lost my physical voice when I handed in my final final copy and got it back a week later when I woke up on the morning of my graduation. My best friend suggested that it was symbolic – leaving my pre-doctoral voice behind and gaining my new doctoral voice. I like to think she’s right, but we’ll have to wait and see what this new voice sounds like – the symbolic doctoral one, I mean. It still feels a bit croaky to me…

The issue of ‘voice’ – finding one, expressing it, having it sound to others in your field like one that is authentic, authoritative, sufficiently knowledgeable and confident – is a complicated one. It is complicated, not least, because ‘voice’ is a rather vague concept for talking about understanding knowledge, conceptualising ideas, formulating evidence-based arguments on the basis of the knowledge and ideas and expressing these, in writing, in English (often) and in the right genre, tone and register. There’s a lot that goes into this concept of ‘voice’. So, this is justifiably a concept that puzzles and also worries many PhD students and writers. ‘How do I find my voice? How do I express it? How will I know whether it sounds right?’ These are questions I asked myself over and over (and still do).

To start with the first one, finding my voice, I thought about gaining some kind of confidence in ‘owning’ the concepts and theories I was trying to understand and use in my thesis, and taking confidence here to mean ‘voice’. When I started reading I had very little confidence in myself and in my ability to claim the concepts and theories, translate them through understanding them into my own words, and then begin to put them to work in building my theoretical framework. I read some very useful posts by Pat Thomson on literature reviews and working with texts and with the other, stronger voices of the researchers and theorists I was reading. I kept a reading journal and wrote to myself about what I was reading and what I was thinking about all that reading. Slowly, I started to piece together a few paragraphs, and then a larger chunk, and then two chunks joined together, and slowly I started to find a voice. A small one at first, saying ‘I think this might be useful’ and ‘Maybe this makes sense if we think about it like this’ and (very scary) ‘Maybe this theorist is not completely right and we could think about this issue differently’. It got stronger as I went on, but this is a process, and it takes time and is a bit more circular than linear – you may find and lose your voice over and over as you encounter new ideas and research that challenges you to rethink and rethink again.

Expressing your voice – your ideas and your thoughts and your organisation and summarising of the theories in relation to your own study – is also challenging. It ties in with the third question of how to make your voice come out ‘right’ in your writing so that those reading your work – your supervisor and peers and eventually examiners – will say ‘Ah yes, this is PhD level work’. In facilitating a writing workshop for 4th year students at an early point in writing my theory chapter, I taught myself a useful way of trying to express my own voice.

The students were writing literature reviews for a research project, and were battling to get to the point where they were directing and organising the research they had done in relation to their own projects rather than simply writing down everything they thought was important in the research and doing a summarise, synthesis, compare and contrast type of exercise. I was battling too, unable to see beyond the authors’ words to my own and therefore battling to get to a point of directing and guiding the writing and thinking process rather than being guided by it.

I used a trick I learnt from a colleague, who got it from the work of Toulmin, and it is summarised as P E E or Point, Evidence, Explanation. It’s a quite a simple one to use, and it can be adapted and played with as needed, and depending on the level of sophistication required of the writing. You start with the point of the paragraph (understanding that this point stands in relation to the other points you want to be making in this section/chapter and not on its own). This is your voice coming through – it should not be referenced or a paraphrase of someone else’s ideas but rather you, summarising a key idea you have because of what you have read, and that needs to be fully discussed and developed. It may be one sentence or a couple of linked sentences. Then you go into the evidence – why do you make that point or claim? Who supports you in this claim? What have they claimed or said that you can include to strengthen your point? (Here, of course, you reference the work of others). Then you close the paragraph with explanation that connects your point and the evidence in this paragraph to your research or your study, and that also (if you are in the beginning or middle of a section) links it to the next point or idea. This explanation, for the most part, is also you – your voice – coming through to tell us what this knowledge means in relation to the whole picture you are drawing, and what you make of it (and what you’d like us as the readers to make of it too).

You will find your voice as you go on, and it may be very different from the one you started out with, or quite similar. The starting point is important, as PhD students come into this process from very different places. Many of my peers on our programme have worked for years, and have full-time jobs, families and a lot of experience under their belts. Other PhD students I know are in their late 20s, unattached and still working on getting that experience. The point is not to compare your voice (or apparent lack thereof) with others, but to look to your trusted peers and supervisor for guidance in finding, expressing and finally claiming your own doctoral voice. As my supervisor said to me: ‘Trust the process’. 🙂