Anatomy of a Plagiarism

It is often said that imitation is the sincerest form of flattery. Though that phrase has often been misattributed to Oscar Wilde, it was actually included in a collection of aphorisms by charles Caleb Colton, printed in 1820, 34 years before Wilde's birth. Sometimes, attribution, like imitation, can be tricky. In the world of history, writing, and research, it has a different name: plagiarism.

Recently, a post by @Dr_TheHistories / @archaeohistories (Dr. Mohammad Firoz Khan) went viral on X and Instagram, reaching hundreds of thousands of people with an 1873 photo of Texas Jack Omohundro, Buffalo Bill Cody, and Wild Bill Hickok. To his 113,200 followers on X and 242,000 followers on Instagram, this appeared to be original historical insight.

While I’m always glad to see Texas Jack get the spotlight, I recognize the writing because I wrote it.

Unfortunately, this isn’t the first time my work has been harvested for clicks. On April 17, 2025, the account Traces of Texas (94.7K followers) shared a version of this same narrative on Instagram, garnering 1.4K likes. When large accounts strip a researcher's name from their work, they don't just take the words; they take the credit for years of labor and expertise.

History isn't just "sharing old photos." It is the result of years spent diving into archives, cross-referencing primary sources, and developing a story, a unique take on the history, and a narrative voice. I first published this specific narrative on The Dime Library on April 28, 2021, three days before my Texas Jack book was released. I have refined and reshared it over time. I also took an existing image of the three men and adjusted it for contrast, as the original print, which was auctioned at Cowan's Auctions for $13,000 on June 28, 2018, has long faded over 150 years. The one I edited and shared is the same one Dr. Khan used for his posts.

In a matter of seconds, likely utilizing an AI to slightly mask the theft, Dr. Khan "regurgitated" my specific creative structure and theme and presented it as his own.

We know these are direct lifts because they copy the specific, non-obvious creative choices I made in my original work:

• The Visual Detail: My post highlights the specific "hand resting with easy familiarity on Wild Bill’s shoulder". Dr. Khan’s post mirrors this exact, intimate observation.

  
  

• The "Trinity" Thesis: My work frames these three specifically as the Scout, the Lawman, and the Cowboy. He uses this identical three-part archetype structure.

  
  

• The Legacy Argument: The central thesis of my book is that because of his work as a real-life, trail driving cowboy and his enduring friendship and partnership with Buffalo Bill Cody, Texas Jack was the "pattern" for the modern cowboy hero, setting the stage for everyone from Gary Cooper to John Wayne. This is my original historical thesis, which Dr. Kahn presents as his own discovery.

  
  

• Paragraph-for-Paragraph Matching: From the introduction of the photograph to the "where are they now" conclusion, the narrative beats are a mirror image of my original article.

Dr. Khan prominently claims to hold a PhD in History. Any reputable university teaches that when you rely on another researcher’s specific narrative, structure, and thesis, you must cite them. He clearly read my post, realized it would be a hit with his massive audience, and chose to "farm" it for engagement rather than linking to the source.

Why does any of this matter? When accounts with massive followings strip a researcher's name from their work, my research, my writing, and my time get credited to them almost instantly. When I shared that initial post, way back in April of 2021, it included a link to my book.

My hope was that if someone read the post and wanted to know more, they would know where to look. The years of effort that went into my book, Texas Jack: America’s First Cowboy Star, deserve more than being used as fuel for an online engagement farm.

History belongs to everyone, but the credit for the work of understanding that history belongs to the people who actually do it. If you want the real story of the man who brought the cowboy to the American imagination, come to the source: DimeLibrary.com.