Reading for 29 February: Search

John Battelle’s Search offers a fascinating look at the modern search engine, its inner workings, and how it just might be taking over global culture as we know it. Although at times some of his futuristic aspirations seem a bit overdramatic and his political views over apparent, the book provides insight for the layperson on how such an intricate system works – both the computer science and business aspects behind it, providing clear explanation of complex subjects. As someone who hates science and business, the book was nevertheless an easy and understandable read – quite a feat for any author writing on such subjects.

In the beginning of the book, Battelle makes the analogy of Google being like a reference librarian. Noting that the search could well become “Hal, the intelligent but creepy computer doppelganger of Stanley Kubricks 2001: A Space Odyssey” (9). Under this description of the search, the user actually develops a kind of relationship with it as it guides them to the information they want and need. However, like all relationships, when the more humanizing elements drop out of it, the relationship does not work as well. Hence, I question whether Google or any related search engine can ever match up to the reference librarian… and I doubt it. Even when users are familiar with the working of a library – whether it be a public library, research library, or even the more detailed aspects of a library like searching the catalog or online database – the librarian acts as helpful guide. Unlike the search who cannot ask the user for clarification, the librarian and library patron can work together to best determine what exactly the patron needs. Now, this is not to bash Google or Battelle, for the search is an essential tool of both the librarian and seeker of knowledge, but I would not set them as equals. Interestingly, though, Google and the library do not claim very different purposes. A comparison of their mission statements reveals a common goal:

“Google's mission is to organize the world's information and make it universally accessible and useful.”

“We welcome and support all people in their enjoyment of reaindg and pursuit of lifelong learning. Working together, we strive to provide equal access to information, ideas and knowledge through books, programs and other resources. We believe in the freedom to read, to learn, and to discover.” –Mission of the Chicago Public Library

At their core, these missions represent a fundamental similarity. While the library mission seems a bit more interactive and certainly must be more concerned with accountability, both otherwise provide a similar service.

Google and the search, however, present a bit more of controversy than does your local public library. Google’s motto of “Don’t Be Evil” and the notion of social responsibility factor largely into its corporate model. The public places a good deal (perhaps too much) of trust in Google not to share its information in inappropriate ways. The searches entered every second into Google provide the “Database of Intentions” reveal our personal hopes and desired, a “living artifact of immense power” (2). Although “Don’t be evil” may seem straightforward in the conference room of a small company, but it is quite another when your business becomes a global phenomenon of information access (139). The private Amerian user with Google Desktop concerned about his privacy rights is a separate issue altogether once bigger fish are involved. The China controversy made Google realize that “the unwritten laws of the free market do not provide a mechanism to reconcile the true cost of social responsibility with the fundamental need to be profitable” (205). By giving in to the Chinese government’s demands of some degree of censorship, many felt Google was becoming an accessory to such an evil. Balancing corporate well-being and social responsibility remains a daunting task with many complications. Similarly, in the post-2001 era, the question of privacy was redefined by the USA PATRIOT Act. I think Battelle lets his political views shine through way too much in this section while never coming near such a tone when any other company or user could equally access your information, but he nevertheless raises a valid concern. As Google contends that they only share private information when “reasonably necessary,” such a decision is out of their hands when requested by the government under the PATRIOT Act (203). Your private information just became that much more vulnerable. Now, granted, I think a large chunk of the American public overreacts too much to the PATRIOT ACT (when their concern is not constitutional but rather fearful), but the fact that the government can (potentially, not definitely) access your personal information via “request to your ISP, your community library, or other service provider” unquestionably sheds light on the susceptibility of your private information (199).

In today’s ever-digitalizing world, exposure is becoming more and more unavoidable. Google has defined what the search is; the two words can essentially be used interchangeably. Google has been able to bring search results quicker than most other programs, but expanding information to more people worldwide has its costs. As Google sorts out the ethics and concerns that face the everyday corporate giant, librarians should start learning from Google, and learning about it. Battelle provides a layman’s guide to the search engine crawler, and as the Database of Intentions continues to captivate our world, the librarian cannot afford to miss out on this valuable – and eventually essential – tool.