Sunday, June 17, 2007

The evolution of Wikipedia

On my Wikipedia user page, I have a short statement of faith in the veracity and usefulness of Wikipedia:

James Surowiecki's book, The Wisdom of Crowds, begins with Francis Galton's anecdote about an ox-weighing contest at a country fair: for a half-shilling, one could purchase a ticket on which to write an estimate of the slaughtered and dressed weight of a displayed living ox. The ticket with the guess closest to the actual weight would win a prize. Galton found that the mean of all guesses was in fact more accurate than the best guess, even though the guessers included livestock experts. This is a good illustration of the fact that a collective judgment may often be more correct than the judgment of any individual expert — something which appears to be true in financial markets, for example.
Wikipedia is a mechanism for producing collective judgments about the accuracy and importance of factual statements. I think this makes Wikipedia very exciting — any statement placed in Wikipedia is immediately subject to review and revision, and if everyone is animated by the same sense of trying to achieve truth, the text can quite rapidly evolve to something accurate and balanced.


But is this faith well-placed? Do articles always or even usually "evolve to something accurate and balanced"? What are some of the mechanisms skewing articles toward falsehood and bias? What institutions (policies, traditions) have spontaneously emerged to mitigate these problems of falsehood and bias? I hope to address questions such as these in this blog.

Tuesday, June 12, 2007

Who cares about truth?

This may be the great age of the autodidact. For the first time in history, a person can access a significant fraction of the world's knowledge, from home, without investing heavily in books. The internet should make it possible for the intelligent person of low income to become truly knowledgeable.
I remember an English professor, who told us of his military service, and spoke warmly of a sergeant, a man who kept a shelf of Great Books next to his cot, and who spent every free moment perusing them. This kind of autodidact is like a character out of a Jack London story, a working class man with an insatiable thirst for knowledge, a type of person increasingly rare today.
Why does it seem that so few of the working class care about knowledge? One might well retort, "why do so few of the middle class care about knowledge?" Knowledge itself has fallen out of esteem. Beauty is as fashionable as ever, but truth has become a bit risible. Why so? Why do young people no longer dream over maps? Why do students act as if only motivated by status and income, and not at all by insight and understanding?
Perhaps I like Wikipedia because I detect in so many of the editors a love of knowledge that is not often found elsewhere.