My knowledge is more fragile

Are you familiar with Edge? It’s a website set up by the Edge Foundation, which was established to “promote inquiry into and discussion of intellectual, philosophical, artistic, and literary issues, as well as to work for the intellectual and social achievement of society.” The website has lots of features, but one of the more famous is its World Question Center, where they have been asking a wide-ranging group of people a question each year since 1998, and posting the answers.

The question for 2010 is “How is the Internet changing the way you think?”

Here is a portion of Kevin Kelly’s answer (Kelly works for Wired):

When I do long division or even multiplication I don't try to remember the intermediate numbers. Long ago I learned to write them down. Because of paper and pencil I am  *smarter* in arithmetic. In a similar manner I now no longer to try remember facts, or even where I found the facts. I have learned to summon them on the Internet. Because the Internet is my new pencil and paper, I am "*smarter* in factuality.

But my knowledge is now more fragile.

I have experienced similar sensations. I am constantly amazed that we seem to have something like the computer on Star Trek at our disposal; you can just ask a question, any question, and get an answer (usually lots of answers) in a few seconds. We can’t just speak the questions and get the answers, as they did on Star Trek, but that time is probably coming soon. It’s astounding!

But there is that downside – my knowledge also seems more fragile. Kelly goes on to say,

 For every accepted piece of knowledge I find, there is within easy reach someone who challenges the fact. Every fact has its anti-fact. The Internet's extreme hyperlinking highlights those anti-facts as brightly as the facts. Some anti-facts are silly, some borderline, and some valid. You can't rely on experts to sort them out because for every expert there is an equal and countervailing anti-expert. Thus anything I learn is subject to erosion by these ubiquitous anti-factors.

My certainty about anything has decreased. Rather than importing authority, I am reduced to creating my own certainty — not just about things I care about — but about anything I touch, including areas about which I can't possibly have any direct knowledge . That means that in general I assume more and more that what I know is wrong. We might consider this state perfect for science but it also means that I am more likely to have my mind changed for incorrect reasons. Nonetheless, the embrace of uncertainty is one way my thinking has changed.

Just being aware of people who think differently is one of the blessings and curses of the Internet. It reminds me of my project of visiting different kinds of churches. Sometimes it seemed like a very ecumenical, open-minded, tolerant kind of thing I was doing, challenging my presuppositions and beliefs. But other times I felt pulled in the opposite direction – I found that I really disliked some ideas or viewpoints even more than I had before visiting a church that held them (and, in the case of my visit to the Quaker meeting, I found that I liked the meeting just fine, but was surprised to find myself appalled by the journal of their founder, George Fox. I had expected to like him.) Sometimes I felt less tolerant after visiting a church.

Well, I’m a former evangelical, and perhaps one of the most obvious characteristics of evangelicals is their conviction of certainty, an attitude which is extremely frustrating to everyone else. I’ve noticed that some former evangelicals retain the conviction of certainty even after leaving an evangelical church – they just transfer that attitude to a different denomination, or faith, or viewpoint, and become completely certain of something else. But they have a hard time embracing uncertainty.

It’s interesting to think about this loss of certainty as an aspect of the Internet age, and good to remember that it can be disconcerting for all sorts of people. In general I assume more and more that what I know is wrong.

Photo courtesy Flickruser Marco Bellucci