Let us trumpet the end of Encyclopaedia Britannica's print edition. We should celebrate the fact that in a Web 2.0, Wikipedia world, information now roams free. It lives and breathes, loosed from cages where it was allowed to reproduce only once a year, edition by edition.
Taylor Weidman/The Christian Science Monitor/file
I read the news last week: an old friend died. He’d been hanging on for years, a shadow of his former self. Once he was the leading authority on almost every subject. Someone you sought out to settle disputes or provide crucial information. He was strong and handsome, in that old-school professorial-leather-patched-sleeves kind of way.
But strength isn’t an adaptive asset anymore. Today, the nimble and ephemeral inherit the earth. And so Encyclopaedia Britannica has lain to rest its print edition, those gold-lettered pillars that held up your family’s bookshelves. It was a good run – 244 years. But all authoritarian regimes eventually fall.
So let us not praise gold-leafed-leather-bound knowledge. Rather, let us trumpet its passing. Let’s celebrate the fact that information now roams free, great herds of it. It lives and breathes, loosed from cages where it was allowed to reproduce only once a year, edition by edition.
There was a time not so long ago that if you heard a new word – “dialogued” – for example, you had to wait until the Oxford English dictionary published its annual edition to see if it really was a word. Today we turn nouns into verbs as easily as we “friend” people on Facebook. And when enough people use the word and write the word, it’s a word. We don’t need an authority’s stamp of approval.