Tolerating Plagiarism

Stephen Ambrose is a kidnapper. Or as translated from Latin, he is a plagiarus; he kidnapped the work of another and passed it off as his own. And he seems to be getting away with it.

On Jan. 5, renowned historian Ambrose acknowledged that in his current best seller, The Wild Blue, he inappropriately lifted three passages of lines from a book called The Wings of Morning by Thomas Childers, a professor of history at the University of Pennsylvania. In fact, The New York Times found that Ambrose kidnapped passages from other historians’ books in at least five other places.

However, it seems that the consequences for such plagiarism are not so serious anymore. After two days of accusations, Ambrose apologized for his inappropriate actions, acknowledged his faults and promised to make the appropriate changes. But after that, talk of his crimes has practically disappeared. The controversy seems to have died down even before it really began. It is absent here at Harvard and even from the pages of The Crimson, which has not mentioned a word about Ambrose. His books will continue to be used in courses across the nation and will continue to be used this semester at the University of Pennsylvania in the course of the very much robbed history professor, Thomas Childers.

The University of Pennsylvania, Harvard and all other schools promote the exchange and study of ideas, but no school can survive without a strong sense of honesty and trust. Plagiarism, lying and falsification are intolerable examples of academic dishonesty committed by both students and faculty members, and when they are caught, they are punished. The University of Notre Dame’s head football coach, George O’Leary, resigned in December after it was revealed that he had falsely claimed academic and athletic achievements. Last August, Mount Holyoke College suspended history professor Joseph Ellis for lying about his service in Vietnam. Punishment should accompany academic dishonesty, and Ambrose is no exception, even if he is a widely respected historian, author and World War II expert.

While Ambrose acknowledged his mistakes, he weakly defended his overall methods, protesting that he included a footnote to the works he used and even praised the works in the text. While his acts were disappointing, it is even more disappointing—as well as embarrassing—to listen to his pathetic excuses. No one should be able to undermine the hard work of another by taking the easy way out and passing it off as his or her own. Ambrose should have marked direct quotations in his book, or at the very least made the reader aware that his paraphrasing is similar to that of the original text in his footnotes.

Incidents of plagiarism vary in seriousness and in circumstance. Students might be confused about the rules of citing and unknowingly incorporate a few phrases from a source without giving the appropriate credit. However, a student might intentionally submit a paper completely plagiarized from a secondary source or another student, hoping to get away with it “just this one time.” It seems that Ambrose hoped that with his expertise, connections and glowing resume, he would be able to get away with it “just this one time.” If any college student attempted what Ambrose did, that student would face disciplinary action, ranging from probation to withdrawal from the school for two semesters. If a student repeated the action, he or she would ultimately face expulsion.

In fact, there are strong suspicions that this was not the first time Ambrose passed off the words of others as his own. Other works by Ambrose that have come into question include his 1975 book Crazy Horse and Custer. How many times will Ambrose be able to get away with it without facing any sort of penalty? Colleges, by keeping Ambrose’s books in their syllabuses, undermine the importance of academic integrity and the seriousness of academic dishonesty. If students are expelled for plagiarism, Ambrose should be punished as well.

Anat Maytal ’05, a Crimson editor, lives in Thayer Hall.