In Which It Is Said That Attribution is Desirable

I wrote an aside at Defending People about the growing trend in the blawgosphere of lawyers criticizing other lawyers’ ideas without naming the other lawyers.

It was, perhaps, unfair or inaccurate for me to call the practice “passive-aggressiveness.” I don’t know what motivates lawyers—I named Scott Greenfield, John Kindley, Jamison Koehler, Norm Pattis—who are increasingly referring to ideas without naming their authors (for example, Greenfield: “Plenty of people with . . . peculiar political views that color their idea of what it means to be a criminal defense lawyer”; Kindley: “what doubly offends RCDLs is that I suggest this while having a tiny fraction of the experience they do actually defending those accused of committing crimes”; Koehler: “the debate quickly moved past a discussion of the merits of the issue to a debate on the respective qualifications of people to engage in the debate itself”; Pattis: “Kindley has been criticized for aspiring to a Bugliosi-like posture”). Greenfield accepts the description with good grace; Kindley explains why he didn’t engage Greenfield directly; Koehler is busy writing about his fantasy football league and wondering, “And these are working lawyers? Where do they ever find the time?” And Pattis writes in favor of not attributing ideas with which we disagree:

But I don’t want law blogging to become the equivalent of Sam Adams Jr.’s tantrum: Issues matter to me; personalities don’t. There’s a nasty trend among bloggers to engage in ad hominem tripe: John Kindley of People v. State just got mobbed. He wrote a contrarian’s piece about justice and criminal law. What followed were comments about his profile on his webpage, etc. This is tedious grammar school antics. Sure, it’s fun to huff and puff and finger point at one another. But to what end?  Writers, like trial lawyers, are mere vehicles for the messages they convey: personalities rarely matter. If someone writes something I think ill founded, it is far less aggressive, whether passive or not, simply to disagree, than it is to advertise his or her error more effectively.

This is the pundit’s view: that attributing error is “aggressive.” (Because the pundit is the ultimate authority, such that all discussion ends with him?)

As a blogger, you should, attribute. You should attribute the thoughts with which you don’t agree as well as the thoughts with which you do. You should name the thinker, and you should link to the thought (possible exceptions exist for hate speech and other obnoxious attention-seeking).

Why? There are four reasons.

You should attribute for yourself. Citing without attribution invites sloppy writing and exaggeration, if not flat-out fabrication. As Pattis, above: “What followed were comments about his profile on his webpage, etc.” Really? What comments? Where? By whom? I’ve been following the discussion, and I haven’t seen it. I’m not teaching expository writing 101 here, but the passive voice encourages lax thinking, which is a risk factor for Alzheimer’s.

You should attribute for your readers. They should not have to take your word for what other people have said. Links are optimal, but if you’re unwilling to link, naming the speaker allows your readers to discover for themselves the words that were said, and their context.

Koehler, for example, says that poor Kindley is a victim, “left to defend himself on the basis of his age and experience” Okay, what has required him to defend himself on that basis? What was said that left him to defend himself on that basis? By whom, when, and where? Was it “you don’t have much experience, and therefore you’re wrong”? Was it “you’re wrong, and if you had more experience you’d see it”? Or was it “you crazy kids!”?

You should attribute for those with whom you disagree. Failing to attribute an idea doesn’t show respect for the thinker; to the contrary, it shows contempt. We’re all lawyers here; part of our job is to do verbal battle over ideas. Other bloggers are big boys and girls who can defend their ideas, and who want to do so. Treating them like fragile teacups dishonors them and their ideas.

Like Pattis, if someone mentions my name on the internet, I notice, and can respond or, if I’m persuaded, learn. If someone talks about my ideas without using my name, there’s no reason for me know it unless it’s in one of the few blogs I read regularly. It was not worth mention when Pattis was the only one doing it, but if everyone does it the blawgosphere will turn from a conversation to a disjoint set of bloviating pundits.

Most importantly, you should attribute for the blawgosphere. It’s not, as Pattis insinuates, about marketing, but about conversation. If marketing drove blogging practices, we would all to each other when we agreed and studiously ignore each other when we didn’t. Marketers aren’t interested in conversation unless it makes them look good.

A happyspherical lovefest doesn’t make for interesting reading; conflict does. Not attributing kills conversation; attributing facilitates honest discussion. Not attributing allows bloggers to refer to discussion in the blogosphere—as Koehler has referred to it—as “the self-righteous fury of the mob.” Which is great for the victimocrats among us (who, like Koehler, can bemoan the lot of poor “victim” John Kindley), but which is a conversational dead end.

For my part, I want to know when people disagree with me; if you think I’m being a fool, tell me. Don’t mutter about me behind my back. When I am (as here? possibly) wrong, I want to be told why, and when I am right, I want to rebut your argument. I want readers to be able to follow the discussion, so that they can reach their own conclusions.

Bad ideas left unchallenged thrive; bad ideas challenged get better. Attribution is not about personalities, but about dialectics. Pretend that there is no thinker behind the thought—take the pundit’s position, that your authority is so great that not naming those with whom you disagree is an act of mercy to them—and the discussion just ends. It’s no way to persuade (if that’s your objective); nor to synthesize ideas.

It is, rather, the online equivalent of talking about someone as though he’s not in the room, when in fact he is.