Curse of the copycats: inside history's biggest plagiarism scandals

Since ancient times, artists, writers and politicians have passed off other people’s work as their own. Roger Kreuz charts some of history’s most notorious copycats – and those who hotly denied allegations of creative thievery

A group of robed philosophers sit and stand on marble steps in a classical architectural setting. Above the central seated figure, a bright purple light bulb with radiating lines has been digitally added to suggest a moment of inspiration.

Published: June 7, 2026 at 3:30 PM

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There is a famous quote by TS Eliot, which claims that “immature poets imitate; mature poets steal”. In an age when lawyers fiercely protect corporations’ intellectual property – a world of film franchises worth billions and pre-emptive patents – it’s safe to say that many people disagree with that sentiment.

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But how was plagiarism dealt with in the past? In some eras, borrowing from other people’s work was accepted – even encouraged. At other times, it was frowned upon. The picture is further complicated by the fact that not every accusation of plagiarism is shown to be true, and nor is every instance intentional.

Here, Roger Kreuz examines 12 of history’s most famous plagiarism cases – from philosophical falsehoods to fanfic furores.


A classical portrait of an elderly person with a bald head and white beard, shown against a muted brown background. Soft lighting highlights the face and upper body, emphasising the sitter’s expression and features.

A 17th-century depiction of Plato. The ancient Greek philosopher faced accusations of plagiarism in relation to The Republic, his most famous work | Credit: Getty Images

1. Plato: plagiarist or victim of intellectual theft?

Accusations of plagiarism were common in the ancient world and some of these allegations involve figures who are even today central to global culture. In the fourth century BC, for example, Aristoxenus of Tarentum claimed that Plato had copied most of The Republic from the writings of the pre-Socratic philosopher Protagoras.

Conversely, another Greek philosopher, Celsus, claimed that Jesus of Nazareth had plagiarised his precepts from Plato. Celsus’s writings did not survive antiquity, but we know about his charge from a refutation penned in the third century AD by Origen of Alexandria.

These examples make it clear the ancient Greeks had a concept of intellectual property, and they used terms like “theft” and “stolen” to refer to instances of literary appropriation. Horace, for instance, described a rival as beautifying himself with “stolen plumage.”

But it was the Roman author Martial, in the first century AD, who gave literary poaching its modern name. In reference to a thieving competitor, he used the Latin term for someone who kidnaps children or slaves. This word, plagiarius, is the source of the modern term in English and other languages.


Three haloed figures stand together in a detailed black‑and‑white engraving. The central figure holds a cloth bearing the face of Christ, while the two flanking figures—one with a key and the other with a sword—stand beside them in long robes.

Holy Veronica with Sweat Cloth (above) was a reproduction of Albrecht Dürer’s Saint Veronica between Saints Peter and Paul (below). Though plagiarism was not a term in use at the time, Raimondi’s copy still landed him in court | Credit: Alamy and Getty Images

A detailed woodcut shows three haloed figures standing together. The central figure holds a cloth bearing the face of Christ, while the figure on the left holds a large key and a book, and the figure on the right holds a sword. Architectural beams frame the scene.

2. Dürer strikes a blow for due recognition

During the Middle Ages, the notion of intellectual ownership seems to have vanished. The authors of this period freely made use of each other’s work, either for inspiration or sometimes much more directly.

Geoffrey Chaucer, for example, drew extensively from the writings of Virgil, Ovid, Boethius, Dante, Petrarch and Boccaccio for his characters, plots and themes. Shakespeare made free use of earlier writing as well, borrowing extensively from Ovid, Boccaccio, Holinshed and, ironically enough, Chaucer.

Eventually, though, the idea that an artist might have exclusive rights to their work began to reemerge across Europe. In the early 16th century, Albrecht Dürer complained to Venetian officials that an engraver, Marcantonio Raimondi, was reproducing his woodcuts. He won a partial victory. The court blocked Raimondi from using Dürer’s distinctive monogram, but allowed the Italian to keep copying the German artist’s work.

Later, the words ‘plagiarist’, ‘plagiarism’ and ‘plagiarise’ first made their appearances in English during the 17th century.


A knight in armour raises a sword above an open book, as if preparing to strike it. The book is large, with visible text on its cover and pages. The scene is drawn in black‑and‑white linework.

A Victorian engraving depicts the titular character Don Quixote about to drop his sword on Alonso Fernández de Avellaneda's unofficial 1614 sequel to Miguel de Cervante's book. Angered by the unauthorised addition to his work, Cervantes wrote his own follow-up | Credit: Getty Images

3. Cervantes has the final word

After Miguel de Cervantes published the first part of Don Quixote in 1605, he is thought to have begun work on a second story about the Man of La Mancha. Before he had completed it, however, an unauthorised sequel was published in 1614. It was written by an unknown author who used the pseudonym ‘Alonso Fernández de Avellaneda’. Avellaneda mocked Cervantes and took considerable liberties with his characters.

In response, Cervantes quickly completed his own sequel and published it the following year, in 1615. This allowed him to reclaim his narrative and to provide his own ending to the story. He also took the opportunity to poke fun at Avellaneda and to comment on deficiencies in the unauthorised work. Trying to ensure he got the last word, Cervantes even went so far as to kill off Don Quixote to prevent others from creating additional adventures for his windmill-tilting comic hero.


A black‑and‑white caricature shows a man with an oversized head, long hair, and a flowing beard walking while carrying stacks of books under both arms. The book covers display titles such as Bleak House, Nicholas Nickleby, Martin Chuzzlewit, and David Copperfield. The ground beneath him is marked with the words “Paris” and “London.”

Charles Dickens, depicted here in a caricature by André Gill, was well known for championing authors’ rights. He died before international copyright reform was introduced, however | Credit: Getty Images

4. Charles Dickens, copyright campaigner

During the 1830s, Charles Dickens began publishing his enormously popular novels in serial form. Chapters appeared, in weekly or monthly instalments, over the course of a year or more. But this publishing model provided pirates with the opportunity to rush unauthorised continuations of novels such as Oliver Twist and Nicholas Nickleby into print before Dickens’ versions were completed.

Although Britain had a copyright law on the books, it was largely ineffective. And in countries such as the United States, where pirated editions of Dickens’ works were popular, he received no royalties from these sales.

As a result, Dickens became a champion for author’s rights. His efforts were successful in the UK, where stronger copyright protection came into effect in 1842. He also travelled to the US and encouraged copyright reform in that country, but his efforts there were less successful. American readers, it turned out, liked their cheap, pirated editions.

Dickens died in 1870 and so did not live to see the passage of an 1891 US law that finally extended copyright protection in the United States to citizens of other countries.


Four black‑and‑white illustrations of bird heads are shown in a row under the heading “Ornithology.” Each head has a different beak shape and size, and each is labelled with a scientific name.

Sketches of finches made by Charles Darwin, c1835. The famous naturalist may not have been the first to formulate the theory of evolution | Credit: Getty Images

5. Charles Darwin and a wooden delivery

After Darwin published On the Origin of Species in 1859, a Scottish grain merchant, Patrick Matthew, announced that he had formulated the concept of natural selection – the centrepiece of Darwin’s evolutionary theory – years earlier. In 1831, Matthew published a volume titled On Naval Timber and Arboriculture. In the work, he refers to “the natural process of selection” to explain how living things adapt to their environments.

For his part, Darwin claimed to be unfamiliar with Matthew’s book. He wrote, perhaps a little snootily, that, “One may be excused in not having discovered the fact in a work on naval timber.” But he was forced to admit that Matthew had anticipated his idea, and even its name, 28 years before his own work was published.

It is unclear whether Darwin was being entirely candid in his disavowal of any knowledge of Matthew’s idea. Historians still debate the issue. But starting with the third edition of his evolutionary treatise, he included a statement that Matthew had presented “precisely the same view on the origin of species” in a work published years before his own.


Two people sit on wooden stools against a white brick wall. On the left, a barefoot young person wears a straw hat, worn shirt, suspenders, and rolled‑up trousers. On the right, an older person with white curly hair and a moustache wears a light suit, dark tie, and polished shoes. Their contrasting clothing and demeanour create a clear visual contrast between rustic informality and formal refinement.

Hal Holbrook (right) was famous for his impersonation of Mark Twain. When another actor began performing a similar routine, Holbrook accused him of plagiarising his act | Credit: Getty Images

6. How a Twain impersonation led to double trouble

During the 1950s and 1960s, the American actor Hal Holbrook became well known for his one-man show in which he slipped into the persona of Mark Twain. Dressed and made up to look like the famous humourist, Holbrook would dispense witticisms attributed to the author of Tom Sawyer and Huckleberry Finn. Holbrook won a Tony and an Emmy for his critically acclaimed impersonation.

A few years later, a young actor named Mike Randall began to perform his own stage show, which also involved impersonating Mark Twain. Holbrook promptly sued Randall, alleging the other man was copying his routine. The two eventually reached a settlement, leaving Randall free to continue with his performances.

This case underscores how difficult it can be to determine what is appropriation and what is not. Randall had no choice but to dress and sound like the humourist, otherwise his routine would not have been seen as authentic. And the degree to which Randall’s interpretation bore a similarity to Holbrook’s is ultimately subjective.

Twain himself, you suspect, would have had huge fun commenting on what happened had reports of his death not been at all exaggerated.


An open phone book lies flat, its yellow pages filled with dense columns of names, addresses, and phone numbers. Colourful sticky tabs—blue, red, yellow, and green—stick out from the edges, marking different sections.

‘Mountweazels’ – named after an imaginary woman created by the New Columbia Encyclopedia – are sometimes inserted into works as a tactic to catch copyright thieves. They sometimes backfire, though, as shown in one US Supreme Court case between rival phone directories | Credit: Getty Images

7. Mountweazely words

During the 20th century, the editors of encyclopaedias and dictionaries began to include made-up entries in their wares as a check on whether their works were being plagiarised.

The 1975 edition of the New Columbia Encyclopedia contained a short biographical listing for ‘Lillian Mountweazel’, a photographer who tragically died in an explosion when she was only 31. But no such person ever existed. The entry was solely included to provide evidence of piracy, should it later appear in another encyclopaedia. This entry became famous enough that copyright traps are often called ‘mountweazels’.

However, these traps don’t always work. In 1991, the US Supreme Court heard a case in which the plaintiff, a compiler of telephone directories, had included fake phone numbers in their listings. When these numbers turned up in a rival’s directory, the plaintiff sued, with the made-up digits offered as evidence of the infringement. The court, however, ruled for the defendants on the grounds that numbers in a directory could not be copyrighted as they did not demonstrate a minimum level of creativity.


A book cover titled Children of the Morning by W. L. George features bold orange lettering against a dark background filled with stylised tropical foliage, including large green leaves and palm shapes.

William Golding’s Lord of the Flies (1954) bears similarities to the 1926 novel Children of the Morning by WL George – though Golding denied ever reading the earlier work | Credit: Robert Eldridge Books

8. Novel problems

In some cases, what appears to be plagiarism is the result of authors using the same source material. In 2001, Norwegian author Tom Egeland published a thriller that included details such as a world-wide conspiracy, a secret society, a character with albinism, and the claim that Jesus and Mary Magdalene were married. Two years later, Dan Brown published The Da Vinci Code, a work that contains these same details.

Brown claimed to know nothing about Egeland’s novel, which wasn’t translated into English until several years later. The coincidences seem to be the result of both authors making use of an earlier book, The Holy Blood and the Holy Grail, published in 1982.

A similar set of coincidences bedevilled William Golding. On the eve of receiving the Nobel Prize in Literature in 1983, he was accused of plagiarising from the 1926 novel Children of the Morning for his Lord of the Flies, which appeared in 1954. Certainly, both works contain striking similarities, such as marooned children, a red-headed main character and rescue by a military vessel.

Golding denied having ever read the earlier novel. He allegedly argued that “there are a great many books in the world about a great many islands written by a great many authors”.


An older person wearing glasses, a suit, and a tie sits at a desk in front of a bookshelf filled with books. They gesture with one hand while the other rests on papers spread across the desk, as if explaining or discussing something.

Shervert Frazier was forced to resign after committing plagiarism in four papers he published – a case of university staff needing to set examples for their students | Credit: Getty Images

9. A delicate balancing act

In 1988, a graduate student discovered that Shervert Frazier, a faculty member of the Harvard Medical School, committed plagiarism in four papers he published during the 1960s and 1970s. Frazier claimed the appropriations were unintentional but was forced to resign his professorship. Some members of the academic community believed the punishment was disproportionate.

This episode – one of the highest profile cases of academic plagiarism to date – reveals the difficult position that colleges find themselves in when it comes to such misconduct. On the one hand, universities are disincentivised from accusing their own staff of plagiarism because such episodes can tarnish the reputation of their institutions. But they are also expected to enforce penalties for academic misconduct by students, which can include expulsion if multiple instances are discovered.


A person in a light blazer stands at a podium with two microphones, speaking in front of a blue flag marked with a circle of yellow stars.

European Commission president Ursula von der Leyen pictured in January 2026. The politician denied plagiarism when facing accusation and was formally cleared of misconduct after an investigation | Credit: Getty Images

10. Cases of doctoral doctoring?

During the 2010s, four members of German chancellor Angela Merkel’s cabinet were accused of plagiarising parts of their doctoral dissertations. Three of these ministers – Karl-Theodor zu Guttenberg, Annette Schavan, and Franziska Giffey – resigned their positions as a result. Following an investigation, a fourth, Ursula van der Leyen, was cleared of misconduct and able to keep her degree and her appointment. She has gone on to serve as the president of the European Commission.

More generally, it is unclear to what degree the German public viewed these transgressions as especially serious. Although Giffey had her doctorate revoked by the Free University of Berlin and stepped down from Merkel’s cabinet, she was elected four months later as governing mayor of Berlin, a position she held until 2023.


Seven people in colour‑coded uniforms stand and sit together on a futuristic control‑room set. Behind them are glowing screens, consoles, and panels that suggest the bridge of a starship.

Star Trek creator Gene Roddenberry openly encouraged fans to write their own stories using the show’s characters | Credit: Getty Images

11. Franchises and fanfic furores

Fans of many popular franchises, such as Harry Potter, The Hunger Games and the Twilight series, have used these fictional worlds as a basis for creating their own stories – the world of ‘fanfic’. The publication of such narratives is largely prohibited by the original creators’ copyrights, but literally millions of such tales can be found in online archives and repositories.

Some authors take a relatively benign attitude towards their fans’ creations. A few, such as the late Gene Roddenberry, creator of Star Trek, have actually encouraged fans to write new stories. Many others, however, are vocal in their opposition. Writers in this camp include the late Anne Rice (Interview with the Vampire) and George RR Martin (Game of Thrones). Diana Gabalon has even said that she feels nauseous whenever she comes across fan fiction making use of material from her Outlander series.

Meantime, the legality of fanfic has been hotly debated. Parodies, for example, may avoid censure as a specific defence under certain copyright laws.


Two people shake hands in an ornate room decorated with gold accents, mirrors, and elegant furnishings. One wears a blue outfit and the other a dark suit with a colourful tie. Two additional suited individuals stand in the background.

Queen Elizabeth II greets prime minister Tony Blair at Buckingham Palace. Blair’s memory of the first time he met the monarch and the script of the 2006 film The Queen are inexplicably similar | Credit: Getty Images

12. Tony Blair's cinematic 'recall'

In 2010, Tony Blair published A Journey: My Political Life. The memoir included an account of his first meeting with Queen Elizabeth. Blair recalled that the Queen made a puckish observation on that occasion: “You are my 10th prime minister. The first was Winston. That was before you were born”. It’s a good line – and very similar to one that had appeared in the 2006 movie The Queen, written by Peter Morgan. Blair insists this happened and dismissed any allegations of plagiarism, saying he had not seen the film.

Whilst Morgan indicated that Blair might have confused reality with the film, Blair suggested that it was a story he had told so often that perhaps someone else had told it to Morgan ahead of the film. The episode provides a good example of how we can incorporate information into our memories without being aware of its source, a process that makes many of us inadvertent plagiarists.

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Roger Kreuz is an associate dean and professor of psychology at the University of Memphis. He is the author of Strikingly Similar: Plagiarism and Appropriation from Chaucer to Chatbots (Cambridge University Press, 2026)

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