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306 pages, Paperback
First published January 17, 2008
If the news business is any indication, the ―detritus‖ that ends up being culled from our culture may include products that many of us would define as ―the good stuff. What‘s sacrificed may not be blandness but quality. We may find that the culture of abundance being produced by the World Wide Computer is really just a culture of mediocrity—many miles wide but only a fraction of an inch deep.
IN 1971, THE economist Thomas Schelling performed a simple experiment that had a very surprising result. He was curious about the persistence of extreme racial segregation in the country. He knew that most Americans are not racists or bigots, that we‘re generally happy to be around people who don‘t look or think the same way we do. At the same time, he knew that we‘re not entirely unbiased in the choices we make about where we live and whom we associate with. Most of us have a preference, if only a slight one, to be near at least some people who are similar to ourselves. We don‘t want to be the only black person or white person, or the only liberal or conservative, on the block. Schelling wondered whether such small biases might, over the long run, influence the makeup of neighborhoods.
He began his experiment by drawing a grid of squares on a piece of paper, creating a pattern resembling an oversized checkerboard. Each square represented a house lot. He then randomly placed a black or a white marker in some of the squares. Each marker represented either a black or a white family. Schelling assumed that each family desired to live in a racially mixed neighborhood, and that‘s exactly what his grid showed at the start: the white families and the black families were spread across the grid in an entirely arbitrary fashion. It was a fully integrated community. He then made a further assumption: that each family would prefer to have some nearby neighbors of the same color as themselves. If the percentage of neighbors of the same color fell beneath 50 percent, a family would have a tendency to move to a new house. On the basis of that one simple rule, Schelling began shifting the markers around the grid. If a black marker‘s neighbors were more than 50 percent white or if a white marker‘s neighbors were more than 50 percent black, he‘d move the marker to the closest unoccupied square. He continued moving the pieces until no marker had neighbors that were more than 50 percent of the other color. At that point, to Schelling‘s astonishment, the grid had become completely segregated. All the white markers had congregated in one area, and all the black markers had congregated in another. A modest, natural preference to live near at least a few people sharing a similar characteristic had the effect, as it influenced many individual decisions, of producing a sharp divide in the population. ―In some cases,‖ Schelling explained, ―small incentives, almost imperceptible differentials, can lead to strikingly polarized results.
It was a profound insight, one that, years later, would be cited by the Royal Swedish Society of Sciences when it presented Schelling with the 2005 Nobel Prize in Economics. Mark Buchanan, in his book Nexus, summarized the broader lesson of the experiment well: ―Social realities are fashioned not only by the desires of people but also by the action of blind and more or less mechanical forces—in this case forces that can amplify slight and seemingly harmless personal preferences into dramatic and troubling consequences.
Just as it‘s assumed that the Internet will promote a rich and diverse culture, it‘s also assumed that it will bring people into greater harmony, that it will breed greater understanding and help ameliorate political and social tensions. On the face of it, that expectation seems entirely reasonable. After all, the Internet erases the physical boundaries that separate us, allows the free exchange of information about the thoughts and lives of others, and provides an egalitarian forum in which all views can get an airing. The optimistic view was perhaps best expressed by Nicholas Negroponte, the head of MIT‘s Media Lab, in his 1995 bestseller Being Digital. ―While the politicians struggle with the baggage of history, a new generation is emerging from the digital landscape free of many of the old prejudices, he wrote. ―Digital technology can be a natural force drawing people into greater world harmony.
But Schelling‘s simple experiment calls this view into question. Not only will the process of polarization tend to play out in virtual communities in the same way it does in neighborhoods, but it seems likely to proceed much more quickly online. In the real world, with its mortgages and schools and jobs, the mechanical forces of segregation move slowly. There are brakes on the speed with which we pull up stakes and move to a new house. Internet communities have no such constraints. Making a community-defining decision is as simple as clicking a link. Every time we subscribe to a blog, add a friend to our social network, categorize an email message as spam, or even choose a site from a list of search results, we are making a decision that defines, in some small way, whom we associate with and what information we pay attention to. Given the presence of even a slight bias to be connected with people similar to ourselves—ones who share, say, our political views or our cultural preferences—we would, like Schelling‘s hypothetical homeowners, end up in ever more polarized and homogeneous communities. We would click our way to a fractured society.
Greatly amplifying the polarization effect are the personalization algorithms and filters that are so common on the Internet and that often work without our permission or even our knowledge. Every time we buy a book at Amazon or rent a movie from Netflix or view a news story at Reddit, the site stores information about our choice in a personal profile and uses it to recommend similar products or stories in the future. The effect, in the short run, can be to expose us to items we wouldn‘t otherwise have come across. But over the long run, the more we click, the more we tend to narrow the information we see.
We see considerable evidence of such schisms today, particularly in the so-called blogosphere. Political blogs have divided into two clearly defined and increasingly polarized camps: the liberals and the conservatives. In 2005, two researchers, Lada Adamic, of Hewlett–Packard Labs, and Natalie Glance, of Infoseek Applied Research, published the results of an extensive study of political blogs, which they titled ―Divided They Blog.‖ They looked at the patterns of linking among the forty most popular political blogs during the two months leading up to the 2004 US presidential election, and they also examined the activity of a much broader set of political blogs—more than 1,000 in all—on one day during that period. They discovered a sharp and ―unmistakable division between the conservative and liberal camps. ―In fact, they wrote, ―91% of the links originating within either the conservative or liberal communit[y] stay within that community. In addition, the two groups ―have different lists of favorite news sources, people, and topics to discuss, with only occasional overlaps.
Another study of the political blogosphere, by Matthew Hindman, a political scientist at Arizona State University, found a similar polarization. Rather than examining the links contained in the blogs, Hindman looked at the actual traffic flows between them. He found that the vast majority of readers tend to stay within the bounds of either the liberal or the conservative sphere. Liberals listen almost exclusively to other liberals, and conservatives listen almost exclusively to other conservatives. ―Only a handful of sites,‖ he reports, ―share traffic with those on the opposite end of the political spectrum,‖ and the small amount of interaction that does take place between the sides is dominated by what Hindman terms ―name calling. His conclusion: ―There‘s not a whole lot of great news for democratic theory here.
DURING THE SUMMER of 2005, a group of researchers assembled sixty-three Coloradans to discuss three controversial issues: same-sex marriage, affirmative action, and global warming. About half of the participants were conservatives from Colorado Springs, while the other half were liberals living in Boulder. After the participants completed, in private, questionnaires about their personal views on the three topics, they were split into ten groups—five conservative and five liberal. Each group then spent some time discussing the issues, with the goal of reaching a consensus on each one. After the discussion, the participants again filled out questionnaires.
The results of the study were striking. In every case, the deliberations among like-minded people produced what the researchers call ―ideological amplification. People‘s views became more extreme and more entrenched:
First, the groups from Boulder became even more liberal on all three issues; the groups from Colorado Springs became even more conservative. Deliberation thus increased extremism. Second, every group showed increased consensus, and decreased diversity, in the attitudes of [its] members…. Third, deliberation sharply increased the differences between the views of the largely liberal citizens of Boulder and the largely conservative citizens of Colorado Springs. Before deliberation began, there was considerable overlap between many individuals in the two different cities. After deliberation, the overlap was much smaller.
The study revealed a fact about human nature and group dynamics that psychologists have long recognized: the more that people converse or otherwise share information with other people who hold similar views, the more extreme their views become. As University of Chicago law professor Cass Sunstein, one of the organizers of the Colorado experiment, explains in his book Infotopia, ―When like-minded people cluster, they often aggravate their biases, spreading falsehoods. They ―end up in a more extreme position in line with their tendencies before deliberation began. This phenomenon, which Sunstein reports has been documented ―in hundreds of studies in over a dozen countries, may in the worst cases plant ―the roots of extremism and even fanaticism and terrorism.
Given how easy it is to find like-minded people and sympathetic ideas on the Internet and given our innate tendency to form homogeneous groups, we can see that ―ideological amplification‖ is likely to be pervasive online. Here again, as Brynjolfsson and Van Alstyne note in their article, filtering and personalization technologies are likely to magnify the effect. ―Individuals empowered to screen out material that does not conform to their existing preferences may form virtual cliques, insulate themselves from opposing points of view, and reinforce their biases,‖ they write. ―Indulging these preferences can have the perverse effect of intensifying and hardening pre-existing biases…. The effect is not merely a tendency for members to conform to the group average but a radicalization in which this average moves toward extremes.
Although they stress that it‘s too early to know exactly how all of these forces will play out, they warn that ―balkanization and the loss of shared experiences and values may be harmful to the structure of democratic societies.
In describing the future of the World Wide Computer—the ―Machine, in his terminology—Kevin Kelly writes, ―What will most surprise us is how dependent we will be on what the Machine knows—about us and about what we want to know. We already find it easier to Google something a second or third time rather than remember it ourselves. The more we teach this megacomputer, the more it will assume responsibility for our knowing. It will become our memory. Then it will become our identity..."
Though we all enjoy the speed and convenience of Google searches, maybe we're losing some of the mystery in life:
Everything is explained now. We live in an age when you say casually to somebody “What’s the story on that?” and they can run to the computer and tell you within five seconds. That’s fine, but sometimes I’d just as soon continue wondering. We have a deficit of wonder right now.
[...] Our technologies, he explained, make us as surely as we make our technologies. That’s been true of the tools we use to process matter and energy, but it’s been particularly true of the tools that we use to process information, from the map to the clock to the computer.
The medium is not only the message. The medium is the mind. It shapes what we see and how we see it. The printed page, the dominant information medium of the past 500 years, molded our thinking through, to quote Neil Postman, “its emphasis on logic, sequence, history, exposition, objectivity, detachment, and discipline.” The emphasis of the Internet, our new universal medium, is altogether different. It stresses immediacy, simultaneity, contingency, subjectivity, disposability, and above all, speed. The Net provides no incentive to stop and think deeply about anything, to construct in our memory that “dense repository” of knowledge that Foreman cherishes. It’s easier, as Kelly says, “to Google something a second or third time rather than remember it ourselves”. On the Internet, we seem impelled to glide across the slick surface of data as we make our rushed passage from link to link.
And this is precisely the behaviour that the Internet, as a commercial system, is designed to promote. We are the Web’s neurons, and the more links we click, pages we view, and transactions we make – the faster we fire – the more intelligence the Web collects, the more economic value what it gains, and the more profit it throws off. We feel like “pancake people” on the Web because that’s the role we are assigned to play. The World Wide Computer and those who program it have little interest in our exhibiting what Foreman calls “the thick and multi-textured density of deeply evolved personality.” They want us to act as hyperefficient data processors, as cogs in an intellectual machine whose workings and ends are beyond us. The most revolutionary consequence of the expansion of the Internet’s power, scope, and usefulness may not be that computers will start to think like us but we will come to think like computers. Our consciousness will thin out, flatten, as our minds are trained, link by link, to “DO THIS with what you find HERE and go THERE with the result.” The artificial intelligence we’re creating may turn out to be our own.