Why I Can’t Support (Most) Writing NDAs Anymore
Over my 20 years as a writer, I’ve dealt with my fair share of contracts, most of which are garden variety fare laying out the scope of the project and the terms for compensation. But increasingly, I’ve encountered contracts that also include nondisclosure agreements (NDAs).
There are legitimate instances where NDAs make sense. If there’s a chance that a writer could spill the beans about company secrets, for example, or if there are legal or safety reasons for the writer to not discuss certain information, then an NDA can be perfectly reasonable.
But especially in ghostwriting, NDAs have nothing to do with legalities, safety, or intellectual property protection. They serve instead to intentionally hide the fact that a client used ghostwriting services at all, allowing them to take full credit for the content.
I’ve had to work under these types of agreements many times, particularly when working with third party companies, many of which will not even allow ghostwriters to contact their clients directly or which keep their clients anonymous. After all, the writing industry is not financially kind, and I understand the need to pay bills.
But noting the impact of the agreements on my own career and the careers of other writers I’ve worked with, I can’t recommend that any writer sign them anymore, or that clients try to include them.
How NDAs can neuter writer resumes and portfolios
Ghostwriters go to work when a client doesn’t have the time or skill to put their own words on paper. Their job is not to create ideas, but rather to help the client polish their ideas in a way that is easy to understand. Good ghostwriters excel at helping clients crystalize their core message to make it resonate and maximize its power. This is, in fact, the key value proposition.
When a client forces a writer to use an NDA that prohibits the writer from identifying themselves as the ghostwriter of the work, however, the ghostwriter loses the ability to include the project on a resume. Because they can’t draw a clear association between their contributions and the published work, they can’t include the work in their portfolio. This leaves the writer with a resume they can’t keep current and potentially nothing at all to show future clients as a demonstration of skill.
This doesn’t bode well for advancing one’s writing career or landing better-paying projects.
If we think of a writing client the same as any other boss, one duty of a good boss is to develop their workers and present them with opportunities to develop and advance in their craft. In this way, they are good stewards who protect and look out for those they hire.
NDAs that exist solely to obfuscate the author of the content for the purpose of someone else taking credit fly in the face of this. They serve only to advance and protect the client. The writer becomes collateral damage, left to fend for themselves and in no better position at the end of the contract than when they started.
NDAs and the loss of transparency to readers
Even if I could get past the ethics of a ghostwriter not being able to show their work, I still have to face the ethics around client-reader transparency.
The bulk of readers I know don’t mind that a client has brought on a ghostwriter. They know that sometimes writing is not the client’s gift, and they’re willing to let the ghostwriter “translate” the story so the story can be shared, understood, and enjoyed. But the fact readers will accept ghostwriters for the sake of accessing the content doesn’t mean readers don’t want to know on a basic level that the ghostwriter has contributed.
The problem comes when the client intentionally tries to present themselves as having the skill the ghostwriter has. Much of the relationship the readers form with clients comes from being able to trust that the client is representing themselves accurately. When a client represents themselves as having skills they lack, readers are deceived. If readers find out about that deception, then any of the associations they have made because of the way the content is presented–for example, the client truly is intelligent or understands their subject– shatter.
As an analogy, imagine if Client So-and-So hired a plumber to work on some pipes. They then went around claiming they handled the pipes on their own. Someone else hears Client So-and-So’s claims and hires them to fix their pipes, only Client So-and-So has no idea what they’re doing and water ends up leaking all over the place as Client So-and-So tries to save face.
Much the same thing happens when clients aren’t clear with readers how a ghostwriter has contributed. When others ask them to build on or replicate the ghostwriter’s work, they can’t. If readers understand that the content was a collaboration, however, the client easily can take the appropriate level of credit and show the audience how the final version developed. They can be open with the public as they continue to work with the ghostwriter to create new work the audience is asking for.
Acknowledgement serves both the writer and the client
None of this means that a client has to put the ghostwriter’s name up in lights. It can still be the client’s byline or name on the website or book jacket.
But a simple acknowledgement line or paragraph to the writer is professional and kind. These can read as “with [ghostwriter name]”, “as told to [ghostwriter name]”, or “Special thanks to [ghostwriter name], who [main contributions].” Publications also can have a separate page that acknowledges ghostwriters (e.g., “Meet Our Ghostwriters”) and note which pieces were assisted. This way, even if the client keeps the byline, the writer can prove they worked with that publication and direct prospective clients to it, ideally even having the ability to cite specific editions. The writer has freedom to be honest about the work they’ve done and the scope it has, and the client no longer runs the risk of readers later abandoning them for a betrayal of trust.