A new book about knowledge in the Internet age reveals an important lesson about being a good man.
Fans of Douglas Adams’s The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy, in which a giant supercomputer crunches data for several million years to answer the ultimate question of life, the universe, and everything—and comes up only with the cryptic number 42—might find something familiar in the following story:
Hod Lipson and Michael Schmidt at Cornell University designed the Eureqa computer program to find equations that make sense of large quantities of data that have stumped mere humans… Dr. Gurol Suel at the University of Texas Southwestern Medical Center used Eureqa to try to figure out what causes fluctuations among all of the thousands of different elements of a single bacterium. After chewing over the brickyard of data that Suel had given it, Eureqa came out with two equations that expressed constants within the cell. Suel had his answer. He just doesn’t understand it and doesn’t think any person could.
This real life version of Hitchhiker is retold in Too Big To Know: Rethinking Knowledge Now That the Facts Aren’t the Facts, Experts Are Everywhere, and the Smartest Person in the Room Is the Room, by David Weinberger (Basic Books, $25.99). Weinberger, who works at Harvard’s Berkman Center for the Internet & Society, disagrees with all the other writers who say the internet is making us stupider. Instead he makes the subtler philosophical point that it only seems that way because “knowledge” itself, in the age of the Internet, is fundamentally changing.
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You might wonder what this has to do with men, or being good, or anything else. I’ll get to that in a minute. First a quick and necessary summary of Weinberger’s argument: knowledge is different today because it used to come from books and now comes from the Internet. (Or, “the Net,” as it’s written throughout—though I thought that was a Sandra Bullock movie.)
Book learnin’ gave us knowledge that was more permanent, says Weinberger, because books have a physical presence that the internet lacks; books also gave us knowledge that was more selective, because they’re expensive to produce and publishers don’t want them filled with unnecessary pages or mistakes; and finally, book knowledge was more curated, because writing a well-researched book is hard and requires a certain level of expertise. On the Internet, however, we have limitless space, for free or something near it, and anyone can contribute. As a result, knowledge is no longer a stable thing printed on a page, it’s a constantly evolving aspect of a constantly growing network.
In fact, according to Weinberger, nowadays knowledge is the network, and vice versa. This impressive-sounding but ultimately pretty vague idea, enshrined right there in the title, is what Weinberger returns to again and again. Knowledge equals network. Network equals knowledge. Brave new world, etc.
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This is where the good men stuff comes in. Because, actually, I think Weinberger misses the point a bit: knowledge isn’t suddenly becoming a network; it was always a network. It’s just that the network used to consist entirely of rich old white men, and the reason it seems so much more evident now is that it’s sagging from its efforts to include everyone else.
And part of the reason it’s struggling is that not everybody in the network is willing to be inclusive. I’m not talking about explicit, intentional discrimination, here, though certainly that’s part of it. The bigger problem is the way people unconsciously think about knowledge, or the network, or reality, or whatever you want to call it. Knowledge used to seem stable and efficient because everyone in the network came from the same background, more or less, and unspoken, mutual trust and goodwill abounded. Knowledge worked because everyone felt like they were on the same side. Now it doesn’t, because it’s hard to even pretend that might be true.
But maybe it doesn’t have to be that hard—to pretend we’re on the same side or to actually start being on the same side. Most of the problems with knowledge these days, whether the editing wars on Wikipedia or the disinformation in politics or the underlying unwillingness to accepts others’ points of view, could be avoided if we all stopped and said to ourselves: hey. We’re human beings, right? We share the same planet. We all just want to have happy lives. So aren’t we, actually, on the same side after all?
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That might sound naïve, and I’m not suggesting we blindly trust everyone and everything contributing to the growing network of knowledge—much though those Nigerian bankers who are always emailing me might appreciate it. But if we all stopped worrying about who’s “right” about healthcare, or the economy, or all those other nebulous areas of knowledge, then the real problems would be a lot easier to spot.
In short, if we all stopped trying to win the argument about whether the answer was really 42, we could start being more inclusive in evaluating who has real and valuable insight to offer—to start listening to people with different and challenging viewpoints. And then, finally, together, we could start figuring out the all-important question.
—Photo mlinksva/Flickr
About Andrew Ladd
Andrew:
If we, for example, stopped worrying about who’s right wrt healthcare, we have a problem. It isn’t the argument. It’s what happens when the argument’s winners get real-world stuff happening. And then it might happen to me. So I am interested in who wins.
Sure, we’re all human beings. I realize that. This is not an anodyne. For example, some human beings might be out to make a bazillion dollars by collaring, say, the only drug company left after unbribed regulators put the competition out of business. See Gibson Guitars.
I have no problem with your point until something happens in the real world. See my point?
With regard to us all being human beings, for your information follows an article on rape and an implicit question as to whether these guys really are human, or whether their being allowed as human makes any kind of difference.
You pick
http://bigjournalism.com/dloesch/2012/02/14/do-keith-olbermann-and-markos-moulitsas-think-that-rape-doesnt-matter/
“…if we all stopped worrying about who’s “right” about healthcare, or the economy, or all those other nebulous areas of knowledge, then the real problems would be a lot easier to spot.”
If everyone was talking about something, wouldn’t that be the real problem? (This is everything you think it might be).
“It’s just that the network used to consist entirely of rich old white men”
I think it was a lot better when it was mostly just them.
“But if we all stopped worrying about who’s “right” about healthcare, or the economy, or all those other nebulous areas of knowledge, then the real problems would be a lot easier to spot.”
Who is right is of key importance. This seems like its just an argument for more diversity. I do not buy it.
I think this is an intriguing way to look at the internet. Taken to an extreme it could problematic, sure…there are some questions to which there are right and wrong answers. I think the easy access to the internet means we just need to readjust our internal bullsh!t filters a bit before accepting what we see online. We can’t just read something in a book and assume it’s true (though really, we couldn’t exactly do that anyway). But now it’s even more important to consider where that information is coming from.
I’m looking at this mostly as an academic, but I find value in being able to read about my field from people who were trained outside it. With the cost of printing that didn’t happen nearly as often as it does now. But with the internet, pretty much anyone could write a blog about what they think about archaeology. That’s problematic if you’re looking for fact-based resources for a paper. But it’s quite valuable if you’re looking for ways to think outside-the-box on your topic.
I found it pretty funny when these two statements were laid side-by-side:
“It’s just that the network used to consist entirely of rich old white men, and the reason it seems so much more evident now is that it’s sagging from its efforts to include everyone else.”
and
“The bigger problem is the way people unconsciously think about knowledge, or the network, or reality, or whatever you want to call it.”
For me, it’s pretty obvious that the first statement is an example of the kind of problem described in the second statement.
The entire analysis is built on an assumed foundation about who has historically “controlled information” when this is not clear at all.
Look at it this way: would the fundamental laws of physics be any different if Isaac Newton were black? Or is it instead far more likely that, regardless of Newton’s skin color, the relationship between velocity and acceleration would remain the same?
The bigger “problem” today (if there is one at all, I’m honestly not sure) is not that we have failed to accept others’ points of view, but rather that we are being forced into such wide-spread acceptance that the concept of “knowledge” is breaking down.
The best example of this is the creation-vs-evolution debate. There is literally no evidence in favor of creationism. Zero. Even the “scientific” version of creationism, Intelligent Design, is just a critique of evolution without any evidence that backs its own assertions. It’s an attempt to create a false dichotomy: either evolution as stated is true, or else God made everything.
But this is silly. The theory of evolution being incomplete does not prove the Book of Genesis. Yet we are told time and again (most recently by the legislature of Indiana) that creationism must be viewed on equal footing with evolution as a “legitimate point of view.”
This is silly, and enough is enough. Knowledge is not advanced by pandering to the lowest common denominator. It is advanced by developing falsifiable hypotheses and then gathering the empirical data to test them. It is not a coincidence that the areas of inquiry where this has been forgotten are also the areas that are most contentious.
Hmm…I think it depends on what sort of knowledge you’re talking about. I agree that there are plenty of areas where knowledge is strictly about facts, and that in many ways that concept is breaking apart. I mean, just look at how politicians can completely scramble the facts of the economy, or their past voting record, or anything and people will eat it up.
But not all knowledge is just purely about who is right and who is wrong. Some knowledge is furthered by the interpretation of facts, not just by recognizing them. And in this, I think, having non-experts participating in the discussion can be useful. Take archaeology, for example. There are certain aspects of it that are totally and completely reliant on fact. The people from hypothetical Region A buried their dead in clay jars after having first taken apart the bodies. Bam. Fact. And a lot of the interpretation of those facts requires a lot of expertise in the field of archaeology (and anthropology, paleopathology, etc). But someone with experience in say, art or philosophy, might be able to look at those same facts and see something different. They might interpret them differently. This isn’t to say that those interpretations would be right, but it could add to the theories and knowledge that the archaeologist is building surrounding those burials. Get what I’m saying?
I just think it’s really important to recognize the difference between when a non-expert could provide a unique insight into something, and when a non-expert could totally screw things up (such as with regards to treating creationism as being equally valid a scientific explanation as evolution).
Anybody should be allowed to speak on any subject at anytime. However, all ideas do not have equal weight as some comport with reality and others do not. An artist may interpret an archaeological find in a new and unique way or come up with some cool new ideas about a finding. But his thoughts would be utterly meaningless without some evidence to back them up and that evidence would also have to have proper standards imposed on it. Same goes for women or African Americans or [insert ethnic group here]. Same goes for everybody everywhere. One may be able to bring interesting ideas to the table but if those ideas don’t pan out under scrutiny then it’s back to the drawing board.
Right. That’s pretty much what I was trying to say. Well except…the thoughts put out by a non-expert might not be _completely_ meaningless even if they aren’t backed up by evidence. I mean then they wouldn’t be correct, obviously. But sometimes even the wrong interpretation of something sparks an idea that leads to thinking about it in a different way – and eventually coming up with the right (or at least the most right) interpretation.
Like, okay, I just got done reading an article today about my thesis topic in which the authors totally screwed some things up. They jumped to conclusions that the facts didn’t quite support. But…the article proposed some ideas that made me consider my own topic in a slightly different way. And that was beneficial. What’s more, the authors totally knew that what they were publishing used a few too many leaps in logic, but they still put it out there with the intent of proposing a few unasked questions about the material. The internet makes articles like that a lot easier to publish, I think.
Heather,
I respect your point of view, but I cannot agree with it.
I have a particularly hard time dealing with this subject because I study economics, where the field usually demands that your work be backed by empirical evidence that meets a minimum level of statistical rigor in order to get published.
Yet when I attend social science themed conferences, and I am exposed to other fields where this is not the case (indeed, sociologists of the postmodernist school argue that the scientific method itself is a social construct and therefore useless), and I find it nearly impossible to deal with them. I am probably myself impossible to deal with as a result of this divide. Indeed, I have actually sat for the presentation of papers on why economists are so insufferable, usually presented by a sociologist or cultural studies researcher.
How can you have a meaningful discussion when one side asserts that their hypotheses are true and those same hypotheses are not falsifiable, sometimes by design.
For example, on this site I have read multiple pieces about the impact of “privilege.” Yet we cannot quantify privilege according to those who espouse the theory (“you cannot compare oppressions” being a building block). Why should I accept a theory that cannot be proven? I cannot prove the existence of God either, but does that necessarily mean I should accept His existence?
I suspect it is just because I deal with this on a daily basis, but this is really a struggle for me. When faced with others who assert the truthfulness of unfalsifiable theories, I am often lost. How do you have a discussion when someone first demands that you accept everything they say as true, without data to prove it? What if I make the same demand? How can we move forward from that?
Unfortunately, I don’t have good answers, but I do know that I face this conflict in my daily life.
Hmm…I agree with what a lot of what you’re saying…and I’m saying I think the answer to that (or at least part of the answer) is for people who have untested or un-falsifiable theories to recognize that and not try to present them as tested. From my own experience, and from what it sounds like you’re saying, the trouble is when someone not used to having to back their arguments up with facts, suddenly enters a field where they do have to and yet doesn’t recognize this.
I dunno, maybe I see that as a solution to the problem because that’s pretty much what I do. Archaeology’s this bizarre science that’s half social sciences and half physical sciences. There’s a crap ton that is all about using facts and data to back up an argument. And then there’s also this measure of…well it’s not guesswork…but it’s not provable either. We try to make the leap from fact-based-theories to almost-guess-like-theories as small as possible, but there is always something of a leap. After all…we can’t actually go back and see these people.
So yeah to sum up…when someone “asserts the truthfulness of an unfalsifiable theory,” then there’s a problem. But when someone presents an idea and tries to open up discussion about it I think that’s a good thing. It’s about treating the different ways of thinking about problems differently…and recognizing what you’re doing.
The medium’s header is encapsulated into the message – a more modern version of “the medium is the message”. And the network has always been there – what differs is the speed and capacity and transmission of information. The hard part has always been transforming information into useful knowledge, and the added speed and capacity don’t help much on that front, to be sure. The “consciousness” of the network will determine true usefulness – ask Google – it’s very sci-fi to imagine and witness an artificial shared consciousness evolving…
There are certain unfalsiable theories–more accurately unfounded assertions–the questioning of which will get you called all kinds of nasty names.