The marvels of the digital age: anyone can read me but nobody does. The only comments I receive are spam offering illicit photographs of female celebrities. Somebody’s watching, but it ain’t people. It’s the omnipotent, omnipresent digital goddess.
My job as copy editor for Salem Press–publishers of encylopedic texts and other reference works–requires me to access information speedily while verifying the validity of the information I’m digging up. Sometimes I simply need to know a birth and death date of a historically relevant individual–often the information I need is what might be termed “vital statistics.” Rarely do I need analysis or critique of this information–although there is a level of subjectivity, however slight, in even the most straight-forward historical/biographical material.
At first I found myself reaching for relevant reference material on an adjacent shelf; soon I began utilizing the speed and convenience of the internet, using sites like Encyclopedia Britannica Online, because of its reputation for reliability. Eventually, I gravitated toward Wikipedia–the harbinger of a brave new world, if I can banally steal a Huxlian phrase.
Most internet users have discovered Wikipedia; some decry its lack of official, traditional forms of reference, others praise its sheer vastness of information. Whatever one’s opinion, there is little doubt that Wikipedia signals the next phase in human intellectual development–at least in terms of research technique. Internet sources are still viewed with skepticism in the academic world–I tend to agree with this point of view–but there is little denying that Wikipedia is onto something.
The most important aspect of this new type of information sharing is the paradigm shift that is represents: a redistribution of power. In fact, it seems to conjoin two seemingly disparate political philosophies: communism and democracy. Webster’s dictionary (I went to the hardbound edition for this, but I could have gone to merriam-webster.com), states that communism is a “system in which goods are owned in common and available to all as needed.” My assumption is that “goods,” at least in a 21st century context, is synonymous with information. Wikipedia is a form of communism in that it allows access for all citizenry–information can be made available and taken as need. If one flips the pages of Webster’s past “C” and into “D” one sees that democracy is defined as “a government in which the supreme power is invested in the people.” Again, it is the people as a whole who have the ability to shape Wikipedia (and the internet in general), and in so doing, have the ability to shape the nature of knowledge and information.
The Wikipedia argument is essentially an epistemological one (epistemology, put simply, is the study of knowledge). Who determines what knowledge is? Traditionally, the church, academic institutions, scientists, philologists, the military, or practically anyone with an official rank and title could make this determination; but rarely, if ever, has the nature of knowledge and the dissemination of information been placed in the grasp of the layperson. That’s not to say that which is deemed knowledge–or taken a step further, truth–by anyone with proper credentials is incorrect or distorted (by political motivations, etc.)–although it can be and often has been.
Because knowledge is also equated with power, the Wikipedia issue becomes a philosophical argument as well. Power is often held by those “in-the-know” and the rest of the populace buys into what those “in-the-know” know. Yet Wikipedia–and the general movement that underlies it–because of its egalitarian contribution to and distribution of knowledge, questions the basis of power. If you wanted to know details about a specific World War II battle, who would you ask? It might behoove you to ask a military historian–they’ve spent some time doing some research I would guess. But Wikipedia tells you that you can also ask a WWII veteran who fought in the battle in question. The veteran might remember “the facts” slightly differently, but his perspective is just as valid.
The main argument against something like Wikipedia is its lack of properly referenced facts and information–an integral detail that is slowly being remedied. I still won’t quote directly from the site–though it’s becoming my first lead. However, this argument extends beyond Wikipedia and the rapid internet-based sharing of information. Wikipedia’s lack of reference actually calls into question the nature of all information, and thus knowledge–again what constitutes knowledge, and who establishes the rules and contingencies?
It seems to me that knowledge is based on experience. Experience–whatever philosophies you adhere to concerning the nature of reality–is, in my opinion, undeniable. Sure, your experience may be unique, but this would constitute, at the very least, an internal knowledge. And I’ll go so far as to say that there are pervasive experiences that give humanity collective realms of knowledge–sorry post-modernists. If knowledge is based on experience, then Wikipedia doesn’t necessarily dismantle the criteria for what constitutes knowledge or how information is distributed, but it amends the criteria–it demands inclusion from an array of perspectives. If you want to know about a specific WWII battle, and the knowledge of both the historian and the veteran are at your disposal, I have a feeling you’ll want to hear from each one–you’ll want both perspectives in order to arrive at a more transpicuous view of truth.
The absolutely massive flow of information that is buzzing invisibly around us is overwhelming and, at times, seemingly incoherent. The inherent problem of the internet is that this information remains, for the most part, unverifiable. Wikipedia–and its brand of encyclopedia–suffers from this problem and so therefore remains “unreliable,” at least in any official sense. But I have the feeling that within five years its contributors will be viewed as reliable because they will be a combination of the certified and ordained and the battle-tested.
Then history might begin to unravel its mysteries–through its rewriting.
C. B. Rager
