Who Owns a Story? Indigenous Storytelling, Cultural Authority, and Intellectual Property Rights

What a fascinating coffee chat I had with Claire Stuckey, former Co Coordinator of the IFLA World Through Picture Books Third Edition Committee within the Children and Young Adults Section of the International Federation of Library Associations and Institutions.

Our conversation explored the importance of respecting Indigenous stories, particularly those belonging to First Nations communities in Australia. It raised a fundamental question for storytellers, writers, illustrators, researchers, and publishers: who has the right to tell, interpret, illustrate, publish, or profit from a story?

Claire explained that an Indigenous story cannot simply be documented, retold, or illustrated by someone from outside the community. These stories belong to the communities from which they originate and are deeply connected to their history, identity, knowledge, and cultural traditions.

Permission is therefore not always a simple matter of asking one person. There may be a hierarchy within the community, with particular individuals holding the cultural authority to decide who may access, share, illustrate, or retell a story.

This process helps protect stories from being altered, misinterpreted, or separated from their original meaning. It also raises important questions about cultural ownership and intellectual property rights. If a traditional story is published or used commercially, who benefits? Who should be credited? Who has the authority to grant permission? And who has the right to decide how the story is presented?

These questions are particularly important for illustrators. Images can carry cultural meanings, symbols, and knowledge that may not be immediately apparent to someone outside the community. Permission to tell a story does not necessarily include permission to interpret it visually. The words and illustrations may each require their own careful consideration and cultural approval.

Claire also spoke about a group of anthropologists who travelled to Australia during the 1920s. They listened to the wishes of Indigenous communities and respected their desire for certain stories to remain within the local communities to which they belonged.

This recognition is important because preserving a story does not necessarily mean sharing it with the wider world. Sometimes preservation means respecting a community’s decision about who may hear, tell, illustrate, or publish it.

For writers, illustrators, researchers, and publishers, the lesson is clear. A story is not simply material waiting to be discovered and adapted. Stories carry cultural meaning, ownership, and responsibility. Legal permission alone may not represent the full picture. Cultural authority, community consent, proper attribution, and fair participation in any financial benefit must also be considered.

Preserving Indigenous stories requires more than recording the words. It requires listening to the community, respecting its authority, and ensuring that the people to whom the stories belong remain at the centre of how they are told, illustrated, shared, and protected.

Thank you, Claire, for such an interesting and thought provoking conversation.