Mikaeel Ahmed Smith: Before You Teach Listening, Learn to Acknowledge Sources

In an era of relentless content, we are often surrounded by sound but starved for connection. The distinction between “hearing” and “listening” has become a vital ethical boundary. Hearing is biological; listening is moral. In a digital landscape where ideas circulate rapidly, the tension between inspiration and unattributed overlap reveals a deeper question about gratitude and integrity. A recent dispute involving Mikaeel Ahmed Smith’s use of my work and ideas highlights this tension and offers a broader lesson in how we receive, process, and acknowledge the wisdom that shapes us.

1. Listening as an Internal Excavation

True listening does not begin at the ear; it begins with the soul. Drawing on the primordial concept that humanity was fashioned from clay, we must recognize that we are inherently impressionable—possessing a dual capacity to be molded and, crucially, to mold and shape those around us. However, our ability to “shape” others ethically depends on our internal clarity.

Before we can truly receive a message, we must engage in an internal excavation to identify our “inner noise.” This noise is a collection of biases, insecurities, and ego-driven static that distorts the frequency of incoming truth. When we fail to quiet this cacophony, we do not listen; we merely colonize others’ words with our own assumptions. As Wazwaz wrote and was plagiarized by Smith, the mastery of this internal silence is what transforms a “cacophony of inner noise into a wonderful symphony.”

2. The Three-Level Architecture of True Listening

Listening is not a static architecture: listening to oneself, listening to others, and listening to the Divine. This framework is profoundly holistic; the levels do not exist in isolation but function as a unified system of ethical literacy.

To listen to others with integrity, one must first be attuned to the self. Furthermore, in many spiritual traditions, honoring the human vessel is inseparable from honoring the Divine Source. Therefore, a failure to attribute a peer’s work is not merely a professional lapse; it is a breakdown of the entire architecture. If one cannot “listen” to the effort and presence of a fellow human being, one’s claim to be “listening” to the Divine remains incomplete and performative.

3. Protecting Work as Stewardship, Not Ego

A common modern fallacy suggests that requesting proper citation is a sign of ego or resentment. This misunderstanding ignores the nature of stewardship. When a writer asks for accurate attribution through private and professional channels, they are not seeking attention — they are protecting the integrity and lineage of their ideas. When patterns of unattributed overlap appear in someone’s work, it becomes necessary to examine the material more closely to ensure that proper scholarly ethics are upheld.

This is not about vanity; it is about the integrity of the message. I am the writer of these reflections, and the concepts taken were not generic platitudes but specific, carefully developed ideas: that fitnah molds the soul, that struggle is an opportunity, that victory comes in unexpected forms, and that none of us ‘deserve’ the gifts we receive. These are not loose themes floating in the public domain — they are the result of years of my own writing, teaching, and refinement.

When another author, Smith, reproduces these distinctive markers without attribution, it is not a minor oversight. It erases the author and the lineage of the thought itself. As the originator of these ideas, I have a responsibility to protect their integrity. Acknowledging the source is not an act of ego; it is an act of stewardship. It ensures that the water can be traced back to the hands that drew it from the well.

4. Gratitude (Shukr) as a Practical Ethic

The most piercing dissonance in this situation lies in the gap between public devotion and private practice. He frequently speaks about his love for the Name Ash‑Shakur — the Appreciative, the One who recognizes even the smallest effort — yet he failed to acknowledge or credit the work from which he benefited. Gratitude, or shukr, is not merely an emotion; it is an ethic.

It requires recognizing the means through which one receives benefit, including intellectual labor. To draw from another writer’s work without naming them contradicts the very essence of thankfulness. If one claims to love the Appreciative, then one’s professional conduct should reflect that appreciation. Integrity requires that our ethics of attribution align with the devotion we profess.

5. The Gap Between Intent and Assumption

When a professional request for fairness is met with defensiveness, we see a failure to listen in real time. This friction usually arises because the recipient’s “inner noise”—their own assumptions of malice or personal attack—overwhelms the sender’s clear intent.

This is where the internal excavation mentioned earlier becomes critical. If a writer perceives a request for a citation as an assault on their character, it reveals more about their internal distortions than the actual request. True listening requires the recipient to set aside the ego’s defensive reflex to hear the objective call for justice and citation. A request for a footnote is not an attack; it is an invitation to join a community of honest scholarship.

Conclusion: Honoring the Source

I do not know him personally; I recognize only the ideas and reflections that are distinctly my own. Ultimately, honoring human sources is an extension of honoring the Giver of all wisdom. When we acknowledge the individuals whose work has shaped our thinking, we practice a form of spiritual and intellectual honesty. Transparency is the hallmark of a mind that listens well and is guided well.

In an age filled with echoes, we must ask ourselves: Are we merely amplifying sound, or are we truly listening? When we draw from shared wells of inspiration, do we have the humility to honor the hands that lifted the bucket? To ignore the source is to mute the symphony; to acknowledge it is to participate in the divine ethic of gratitude.