I watched The Colbert Report a few nights ago, and author Andrew Keen was a guest on the show. Keen is the author of The Cult of the Amateur, which is a book about how the Internet is destroying our culture. He postulates that websites like Wikipedia.org are dumbing down our civilization. Keen says these websites put the upkeep of cultural treasures in the hands of amateurs, rather than the intelligencia, who he feels are the rightful keepers. He feels that the Internet has created a new media in which scholar and hillbilly can have equal airtime and can both express their opinion. This is-apparently-quite evil. Keen is very educated and holds numerous degrees from prestigious universities. I, a lowly pundit, feel that his egotism is causing him to hate the Internet. He has invested years of his life into education and thus feels that it is his right to be a keeper and distributor of human wisdom.
I tend to disagree with Keen. I feel the Internet is not a destroyer of culture but is in fact the greatest supporter of culture. The Internet has become a boon to mankind. Today, like never before, each person who has access to the Internet, can tap into the collective knowledge of humanity. A farmer from Idaho can look at paintings in the Louvre, just as a coal miner from Russia can read about and listen to Johnny Cash.
I do, however, see where Keen is coming from. As a person who has also invested much of my life in education, I can understand his frustration at the universality of the Internet. I can understand how he looks at Wikipedia.org, for example, and is horrified that anyone can edit the online encyclopedia. Though I understand his position, I still disagree.
Websites like Wikipedia.org are not destroyers of culture, but have become cultures-ours and others-best promoter. Now, anyone worldwide can look at Wikipedia.org and research nearly anything. (On a slightly ironic note I actually found Keen’s CV on Wikipedia.) The Internet, specifically Wikipedia-like websites, has become, through its universality of writers, a collection of the knowledge of the millions who write submit work to the web.
Though it has its flaws-indeed, Cleatus from Montana can write about physics and have “equal standing” web-wise with Stephen Hawking-it promotes culture through accidental exposure. For example, if I am looking up how Dale Earnheart, Jr., died in his last NASCAR race, I may look at the “Did You Know section,” see an article about William of Orange, read it and have consequently broadened my scope of knowledge. Accidentally, I have improved my knowledge of history and the world around me. Though it destroys the elitism of academia, the Internet does wonders for spreading knowledge. It is a modern day printing press. What was once the realm of the elite is now available for the common man.
Much to Keen’s chagrin, and to a certain extent my own, I can only imagine an interesting future. I see a world where the Internet will continue to spark human curiosity, and the world as a whole will become a much more cultured place. I see a place where a man from rural Iowa and an Oxford professor can discuss the Canterbury Tales, and where those same two men can also discuss the latest baseball game. I see a world where in a house somewhere in the world, a picture of a NASCAR raceway and Monet’s “Waterlillies” hang together on the same wall. The Internet may destroy one form of academia, but for the sake of spreading knowledge, it is a destruction I welcome.
Patrick McShane is a sophomore in the College of Arts and Sciences.