The Googlization of Everything. Siva Vaidhyanathan

      PREFACE

      Google seems omniscient, omnipotent, and omnipresent. It also claims to be benevolent. It’s no surprise that we hold the company in almost deific awe and respect. But what do we gain and what do we lose by inviting Google to be the lens through which we view the world? This book describes the nature of that devotion as well as a growing apostasy, and it suggests ways we might live better with Google once we see it as a mere company rather than as a force for good and enlightenment in the world.

      We may see Google as a savior, but it rules like Caesar. The mythology of the Web leads us to assume that it is a wild, ungovernable, and thus ungoverned realm. This could not be further from the truth. There was a power vacuum in the Web not so long ago, but we have invited Google to fill it. Overwhelmingly, we now allow Google to determine what is important, relevant, and true on the Web and in the world. We trust and believe that Google acts in our best interest. But we have surrendered control over the values, methods, and processes that make sense of our information ecosystem.

      This book argues that we should influence—even regulate—search systems actively and intentionally, and thus take responsibility for how the Web delivers knowledge. We must build the sort of online ecosystem that can benefit the whole world over the long term, not one that serves the short-term interests of one powerful company, no matter how brilliant.

      Still, questioning the role of Google in our lives and the faith we have in it is not easy. Google does much good and little direct harm to most people. And I did not expect to be the person to do this job. From the early days of personal computers, I counted myself among the champions of all things digital and networked. I saw great transformative, democratizing potential in the technological changes of the past three decades. In the 1990s—heady days of global prosperity, burgeoning freedom, and relative peace—I saw in digital networks the means to solve some of the problems we faced as a species. Back then I took seriously the notion that the world had stepped beyond the stalemate of the Cold War and had settled on a rough consensus on competitive open markets, basic human rights, and liberal democracy—even if the road to those goals was still long and rocky in much of the world.¹ I assumed digitization would level the commercial playing field in wealthy economies and invite new competition into markets that had always had high barriers to entry. I imagined a rapid spread of education and critical thinking once we surmounted the millennium-old problems of information scarcity and maldistribution.

      But in the early part of this century, my mood soured and my enthusiasm waned. I saw my great hopes for an open and free Internet corrupted by the simultaneous pressures of inadequate security (in the form of fraud, spam, viruses, and malware) and the attempts at a corporate lockdown of culture and technology.² I saw that the resistance to openness, transparency, accountability, and democracy was stronger than I had imagined and present in parts of the world—including my own—where I thought the forces of light had triumphed long ago.³ I worried that the environment generated by the global reach of the Internet was pulling us in opposite directions—toward both anarchy and oligarchy—and draining the institutions and environments that would foster more

      reasonable, republican virtues, such as measured