The Google Books Settlement marks an end of self-directed inquiry and the beginning of self-referred intelligence, where our thoughts become just artifacts of Googlified experience.
When our 7-year-old wants to express the idea of infinity, he uses the word Googol. “I love you,” he says. “I love you more,” I say. “I love you a Googol,” he says; and then trumping any further adulation adds, “No! A Googol times a Googol.”
With all that Googoling, I can't help wondering what a “Googol times a Googol” would look like.
For now, the Google Books Settlement over Google's effort to digitize the world’s books has authors, publishers, and lawyers reeling, but the enduring, afflictive dangers of this decision extend well beyond the rights of access, fair use, and reader privacy.
Google is paving the way toward a new definition of thought, engaging more complex dimensions of human cognition, perception, and aesthetic preference than ever before.
Forget for a moment the many perils inherent in entrusting a huge corpus of the world’s recorded knowledge to a single corporation and registry.
Think about how you, personally, experience information.
Chances are – if you’re reading this – you go to Google’s simple interface (the epitome of usable elegant design) and type in a word or part of a word.
It’s likely you’re amiss on the spelling and the linguistic map, “Did you mean: _____” pops up in red. You’ll click on the suggested term (because of course that is what you meant) and average about 84,500 results in 0.29 seconds.
The top 10 results display first, but rarely will you navigate to page 2. If the answer’s not a couple clicks away, you’ll ask a different question.
As a librarian, I see this all the time. The act of research – literally, “re-search” – is dying.