9. My thoughts on intellectual theft

Let's about what to do when people copy your work — ouch!

Even though it's not fun when it happens, it's still possible to protect your energy, stay focused on your creativity, and keep growing your business without getting stuck in bitterness or overvigilance.

Listen to hear more about:

• Why your best ideas will get copied — and why that’s not the end of the world
• How to stay grounded and creative without policing or obsessing over idea theft
• Three mindset shifts that help you stay focused on your growth and integrity
• A new way to think about intellectual work — less like “property,” more like shared lineage

I'll help you to reclaim your power, tend to your creative brilliance, and build something no one can steal — because it lives in how you show up, not just what you say.

Transcript

Welcome to the episode, my friends. This is Liberatory Business, and I'm your host, Simone Seol. Today, let's tackle a topic that's probably going to resonate with so many of you — anyone who has ever put your ideas into the world: intellectual property, intellectual theft, and the reality of making a living from your creative work.

Let me start with some bad news. The reality is that when you're putting your ideas out there, if your ideas are any good, they're going to get taken. It's not just common — it's practically guaranteed. If you're actually making an impact on the world, think about it: you spend months, maybe years developing a concept, refining it. You share it, it's resonating, and you feel great about it. And then, one day, you see it pop up somewhere else. Your work, repackaged under someone else's name, brand, logo — whatever. Maybe some subtle details change. Sometimes, no details change. No credit, no conversation, no permission. Nothing.

That hurts. I've experienced it, and most of my clients — the ones with ideas that make a big impact — have experienced this. This is the harsh reality of sharing ideas in the world we live in. We live in a world I call “capitalism on rabies.” That mentality means people are constantly searching for value they can appropriate and extract.

“Oh, it's not my framework, but I could use it for my profit. I'm going to take it.”
 “This isn’t my methodology, but nobody's going to notice if I pass it off as my own.”

And it's not just creative businesses. Bestselling authors find their concepts in corporate presentations without attribution. Designers see their work repurposed by larger brands — again, without attribution or repayment. The more successful and impactful your idea becomes, the more it slips beyond your control. It's a fundamental tension that comes with influence.

Impact requires reach. But reach also guarantees that some of your work is going to operate separately from you.
 Is this good? No.
 Is it fair? No.
 Is it avoidable? Also no — unless you want to keep your ideas locked in an attic and throw away the key. But that wouldn't benefit anyone.

The question isn’t whether people will borrow your ideas without permission — because they will — it’s how you’ll respond when they do.

I've been in this position more times than I can count. I've had my ideas, frameworks, even exact phrasing lifted and repurposed without attribution. People build entire programs around concepts I pioneered. Sometimes people ask. When it feels like something they’ve genuinely learned, digested, and made their own, I’m happy to say, “Sure. If you want to say you learned this from Simone, I’d appreciate it.” And I give my blessing. I’m so grateful for those conversations because most people don’t ask.

Somewhere along the way, I had to decide how I wanted to think about this. And what I decided was that trying to police other people’s use of my work, being perpetually outraged — that was never going to work for me. At some level, I just don’t care. On another level, I’d rather focus on my own work, serving the people I serve, and being in my creative space. I want to invest my life force and emotional energy elsewhere.

Here’s how I think about it, and I hope it’s useful to you.

When I say I don’t care, I don’t mean I’m a doormat or that I devalue my ideas. These are principles I return to that help me keep my focus on what matters — creating at my highest level, serving deeply, and being a happy person.

Here’s why I don’t stress:

First, even if someone is using my content, they can’t replicate the resonance and relationships I create when I’m living in my artistic integrity and backed by real expertise. That kind of integrity creates a magnetic field copycats can’t reproduce.

Second, by the time someone copies my work, I’ve already leveled up — probably eight times. I’m always growing and thinking at higher levels. Honestly, I feel bad for people who just copy me. They’re missing out on the deep growth that comes from doing their own work.

Third, I believe in karma — not in a mystical way, but in a cause-and-effect way. What you put out is what you get back. If you believe people are terrible, that belief will shape your experience. If you think it’s okay to copy others, you're creating a world for yourself without trust, without respect. That lack will be reflected right back to you.

Their way of being — thinking it’s okay to copy — becomes its own punishment.

I’ve watched too many talented creators go down this rabbit hole of intellectual victimization. They track every theft, screenshot offenses, spend hours dissecting who stole what. They get locked into this suspicious, bitter mindset. It doesn’t grow your audience. It doesn’t improve your craft. It doesn’t increase sales.

When sales aren’t where you want them to be, it becomes seductive to blame people who “stole” your work. I’m not saying they didn’t — but that narrative becomes a way to avoid accountability. “I’d be making more money if they hadn’t stolen my idea.” But here’s the brutal truth: even if all the theft stopped tomorrow, your sales probably wouldn’t change. Because the reason you’re not making the money you want isn’t theft. It’s your sales game.

This is different from, say, a giant corporation stealing from an independent artist — that deserves legal action. But when we’re talking person-to-person, smaller-scale creative business — the solution is to sell more and sell better.

Yes, that truth is hard. But it’s also empowering. You hold the power to change your results.

So let’s talk strategy.

First, focus on work that feels true and alive for you. Push your own creative edge. Obsess over finding better ideas to help people get what they want. That obsession keeps you evolving. Copycats will always be playing catch-up to your past self.

Second, double down on what makes you you. Your spirit, your way of thinking, your quirks, your flaws — all of it. Nobody can replicate your energetic frequency. They can copy your words, but not your way of being.

Third, build genuine, trusting relationships with your people. Avoid transactional buyers who are just in it for what they can get. Build an ecosystem of humans who get you, trust you, and care about your evolution. These are the people who’ll stay with you through pivots, who’ll be gracious when you make mistakes. That community? That’s your most valuable asset — and it can never be stolen.

And one more thing. We need to challenge our possessiveness over ideas — while still holding ethical standards around attribution and reciprocity.

Yes, there are bad actors who steal and don’t care. They deserve to be called out. Proper attribution and credit matter — they’re the foundation of trust. And when someone erases your role to get ahead, that’s theft. It matters.

But still, we can reframe how tightly we hold our ideas. In many traditional societies, ideas weren’t owned — they were stewarded. Knowledge wasn’t hoarded, but applied and shared for the benefit of all, with lineage honored. This is missing in modern culture, which treats ideas like commodities.

Instead of trying to monitor everyone all the time, shift your mindset. See ideas as part of an ongoing conversation. Advocate for proper credit. Practice rigor in your own business. But let go of what you can’t control.

My mantra is this:
When it comes to me, err on the side of too much conscientiousness. Check in. Ask permission. Credit generously.
When it comes to others, err on the side of grace. Give space. Let go of what you can’t control. And keep creating.

We believe in giving credit. We speak up when it matters. But our main focus? Creating, serving, and growing — not staying stuck in paranoia.

Yes, the marketplace of ideas is crowded, and appropriation is easier than ever. But we can still choose what truly matters:
 Deepening our expertise. Living our work. Being of service. Growing our capacity to serve.

That’s the best and highest return investment you can make — in your business, and in your community.

All right, my friend. I hope that was helpful, and I’ll talk to you next time on this podcast. Bye.