I stole this quote.

Actually, I stole the form, and then modified it to fit my specific need. Pablo Picasso is most often credited with the form (good artists copy, great artists steal), but I can find references from T.S. Elliott (the immature poet imitates; the mature poet plagiarizes), Igor Stravinsky (lesser artists borrow; great artists steal), and William Faulkner (immature artists copy, great artists steal). I suspect that they all stole the form from someone else.

Steve Jobs used the same form in developing his rationale for lifting ideas such as the computer mouse from others. Jobs said, “It comes down to trying to expose yourself to the best things that humans have done and then try to bring those things in to what you’re doing. I mean Picasso had a saying he said good artists copy great artists steal. And we have always been shameless about stealing great ideas.”

Jobs found a way to hide in the shadow of another (in his case, Picasso) to justify his thievery. Steve Jobs had visited Xerox’s Palo Alto Research Center in the late 1970’s, and saw a demonstration of a new three-button computer mouse. The problem? The mouse cost $300 to manufacture. Jobs took the Xerox idea to an industrial designer and developed a new mouse with only one button. The cost dropped to $15. Jobs had invented his mouse with a Xerox idea that he lifted.

The Macintosh and its mouse benefited humankind; we justify the theft as being a necessary part of the creative process. Newton’s quote comes to mind, “If I have seen further it is by standing on the shoulders of Giants.” Does it matter that Xerox’s contributions have been forgotten, and that others like Jobs have been credited with what Xerox created first?

Interpreters steal. Some steal content, like photographs for an interpretive panel that someone else took. Some cut-and-paste from Wikipedia, or lift from a graduate student’s thesis that surely no one will ever remember. These are all examples of blatant theft.

Interpreters also steal ideas. We freely share our interpretive techniques and concepts. We are flattered when others use them.

Interpretation benefits from the sharing of ideas. We advance as a whole when someone creates an improved way to design a panel, or develops a better wayfinding app, or uncovers a new insight into a moment in history. But, where do we draw the line between sharing and stealing?

Eric Westendorf recently wrote an article for Forbes titled Stealing in the Classroom: Why Teachers Should Steal Like Coders. He identified three qualities of coders that have led, he believes, to a more progressive coding environment.

• Coders collaborate.
• Coders seek examples of features they are trying to build.
• When coders find a good example, they also find the code. Coders improve on the “stolen” code, then share the improved code with the world of coders.

I know nothing of coders; I assume that Westendorf’s assessments are accurate. I also see some of these same characteristics in interpretation. We do collaborate, we do look for better ways, and we do, at times, share with others.

Interpretation is locked in a small room without windows, and we inhale each other’s exhaust.

What happens when the same ol’ ideas are being stolen and circulated? Rather than looking for the better way, what if the interpreter (or, more specifically, their employer or client) is looking for cheaper or less risky ways? What if efforts to standardize interpretation are more focused on limiting risk than inspiring creativity?

Interpretation is locked in a small room without windows. We inhale each other’s exhaust. Our ideas are recycled rather than rekindled.

Whether or not we steal isn’t the issue. We steal from the wrong people. Rather than swiping from each other, we should be going outside of the profession to find new ideas and approaches. Graphic design, environmental sociology, geography, creative writing, art history, advertising, and computer engineering are examples of disciplines with ideas and approaches that could help stretch the outer bounds of interpretation.

Here is an example. In the past couple of years, I have used flat design in the development of interpretive panels. Flat design has been popularized in the design of software user interfaces, and argues for simplicity, clarity, and honesty of materials. This approach uses simplified design (forget the text shadows, photographed backgrounds, and signs shaped like a salmon), bright colors, and visual clarity to enhance the user’s experience.

Flat design seems a natural for the interpretive environment. A quick review of the research literature reveals the need to increase the number of people that actually read interpretive panels (or are attracted to read them in the first place).

Flat design would appear to be a concept, a philosophy, to steal. The software industry will not be offended. They stole the idea from the Swiss and the Bauhaus school in 1920s Germany.

Whether or not we steal isn’t the issue. We steal from the wrong people.

The industrialized interpretation promoted by the agencies and, to a less degree, the universities, has done much to standardize interpretation. Standardization also stifles. Interpretation, as an independent discipline, needs to escape these prescribed limits. Looking outside of the profession for inspiration and ideas is an obvious path forward.