Introduction
Knowledge is the basis for a nation’s development, thus leading to civilisation. The torch of wisdom is passed from one person to another, from one generation to the next. The spread and transmission of such knowledge are fundamentally carried out either through oral communication or through writing books and treatises.
The culture of producing such great works, in other words, what we may call authorship, is essential. We must acknowledge that it is almost impossible for us to identify the exact number of works that have been produced throughout the history of mankind. Nevertheless, the culture of authorship must not become stagnant, but should remain vibrant and fertile to this day.
The Importance of Authorship
Authorship wields a profound and lasting influence on society. When a person dies, his body departs from this world, yet his ideas may continue to live on through time. However, the preservation of his ideas cannot be guaranteed unless he writes something to express them. Without the written word, thoughts fade; with it, they endure. A written work possesses the power to transcend generations, so long as it exists and continues to be read.
A famous adage by Edward Bulwer-Lytton (d. 1873) in his 1839 play Richelieu states, “The pen is mightier than the sword,” a line that acknowledges how words, communication, and writing can have a greater impact—shaping minds and societies more profoundly—than physical force.
Similarly, ʻUmar ibn al-Baḥr al-Jāḥiẓ (d. 868) once mentioned, “The pen leaves a more lasting effect, while the tongue produces more idle talk” (al-qalam abqā athar wa al-lisān akthar hadhar). His words underscore a vital truth: speech may be fleeting, but writing endures, leaving an imprint that resists the erosion of time.
The seriousness and attachment of great scholars toward authorship are illustrated by a report from a student of the great Imam al-Shafiʻi, who mentioned that his teacher divided the night into three periods: first, for writing; second, for prayer; and third, for sleep. In the morning, it is said that he would prioritizs writing, even neglecting his mealtime. Such dedication is not merely discipline, but also a testament to their responsibility toward the written word.
Form and Kind of Authorship
As mentioned, authorship wields a profound and lasting influence on society. However, that influence may be either positive or negative. Nowadays, with the development of technology, authorship is not only manifested in physical forms such as books, but also in non-physical forms on the internet, such as blogs, WordPress, and other platforms.
Even though the manifestation of authorship may differ over time, the type of value embedded in it is constant. Books, treatises, or writings—whether physical or digital—may be beneficial (nāfiʻah), non-beneficial (ghayr al-nāfiʻah), or harmful (muḍarah) to society. Anyone who writes must reconsider before publishing or publicising their work: “Will this writing bring benefit, have no benefit, or—worst of all—cause harm?”
As authors, we must also be aware of shamelessness and ignorance in authorship. I would like to propose two kinds of such misconduct. First, plagiarism. A plagiarist—a person without shame or self-respect—is someone who merely copies another person’s work, merely juggling the order without adding, correcting, or clarifying anything, and then claims it as their own. Second, “like a bull in a China shop,” or in Malay “bagai tikus membaiki labu.” Such a type—a person who is ignorant and careless—is someone who adds unnecessary content or even replaces correct information with incorrect material. We must strive to avoid both of these behaviours in the pursuit of responsible authorship.
Lessons from Ibn Hazm al-Andalusi (d. 1064)
To produce a great work, one must first cultivate the proper attitude—and above all, a right purpose. Purposeless action leads to meaningless results; therefore, purposeless writing leads to meaningless authorship. Thus, let us pause and question ourselves: “Why do we write?”
Purpose alone, however, is not enough. Besides purposelessness, we must also be cautious, for false purposes in writing can likewise lead to meaningless authorship. Some false purposes in writing that I would like to highlight are: (i) writing for the sake of wealth, (ii) writing for the sake of fame, and (iii) writing to harm another person out of envy. Such motives may fill pages, but they leave no lasting legacy.
Ibn Hazm’s discussion on scholarship and authorship in his al-Taqrīb li Ḥadd al-Mantiq outlines seven reasons for writing a book. These reasons are also aligned with the views of Ibn Khaldun (d. 1406) in Muqaddimah Ibn Khaldun and Haji Khalifah (d. 1658) in Kashf al-Ẓunūn. These reasons elevate writing from mere communication to an act of service and intellect for the society, thus contributing to building a civilisation.
The seven purposes for writing a book are: (i) the writer may have something original to say; (ii) he may complete something that has been left incomplete; (iii) he may put right something that is seen to be wrong; (iv) he may clarify and explain a mysterious or complicated matter; (v) he may shorten another person’s work that is too long, without omitting anything vital; (vi) he may collect information from various separate sources; and, (vii) he may assemble things that have been scattered like beads and thread them together again.
Though Ibn Hazm notes that only scholars and perceptive people may write with such purpose, we, as the masses, should also take these principles into account before publishing or publicising our work. For example, we can measure our own intentions against these timeless standards before sharing our writing.
Moreover, as authors, we must confront the questions: “Does our writing fulfil any of these purposes?” and, “Does my writing serve knowledge, clarity, and truth—or does it merely serve myself?”
Writing, when guided by the right purpose and wisdom, transcends time. Without it, words fade; with it, they endure, shaping minds and societies long after the writer has gone. Let us strive, then, not merely to write, but to write with responsibility, insight, and integrity.
