SFist Tech Labs: We've Got a Report Due On Space

This is far from the first backlash against Wikipedia; the site has been the subject of criticism since it was first introduced, much of that criticism documented in the encyclopedia along with everything else. Two of the most commonly-cited critics are former Encyclopaedia Britannica editor Robert McHenry, who criticized the unreliability and amateurish writing of the project; and Wikipedia co-founder Larry Sanger, who criticized the community atmosphere that not only allows but encourages amateurish and unreliable results.

Proponents of the project can counter (and have, repeatedly) that because Wikipedia is an ongoing project, it has built-in safeguards to correct problems as they arise. Incorrect items are corrected, subjective opinions are rewritten to be more objective or eliminated altogether, and over time, the resource asymptotically approaches encyclopedic perfection. McHenry's criticisms about poor writing were unfounded, they claim, because instead of just complaining about it on a website, he could have edited the passages directly on Wikipedia himself.

Seigenthaler's criticisms drew attention not just because of the legal implications of a site such as Wikipedia, but also because it was a clear example of how the Wikipedia experiment breaks down. One of the core defenses of the project is that errors, vandalism, spam, and libelous accusations of assassination will be quickly caught and removed. But as Seigenthaler points out, his entry remained unedited for over four months. While the cynical might point out that that just indicates people simply aren't that interested in Seigenthaler, it does raise doubts about the trustworthiness of entries in the encyclopedia.

The core supposition of Wikipedia is, basically, that an infinite number of monkeys (some with PhDs, others simply with ISPs and unusual preoccupations) on an infinite number of computers editing over each other for some finite amount of time, will eventually end up not just with the Encyclopaedia Britannica, but something better. At the time of this writing, however, it has more information about cartoon world explorer Kim Possible than it does about real world explorer Margaret Bourke-White. Such is the internets.

But does that make it inherently more frivolous and less reliable than a "real" encyclopedia? Other internet thinkers can use the controversy to speculate on the nature of truth; in the labs, we're just cringing at memory of our teachers' reactions whenever we half-assedly tried to submit a report using the World Book as a reference. "An encyclopedia is merely the start of true research," we were reminded, "and must not be used as a cite in itself."

Which, we conclude, is a good thing to remember whenever we're looking for information on the internet. A Google search on the term "Barbary Coast", for example, returns links to casinos, clogging groups, and a movie. The Wikipedia entry is what gives the term its proper context and suggestions for further references (as well as different contexts).

But speaking of context, how does this extend past Wikipedia? What about the Grand Experiment? CNet's "legal expert" sources claim that the Federal Communications Decency Act assures that a service provider is given protection from liability that a content provider would not be entitled to — in other words, the core Wikipedia team doesn't write libel, it only provides an environment that might allow malicious users to write libel. How that will be used to extend to other participatory web projects is less clear-cut. In a more traditional blog, at what point does a user become a participant instead of the audience?

And past the legal concerns, is the core idea a sound one? As the web moves increasingly towards sites that aggregate information from other sites and encourage comments, contributions, and other participation from its users, that implies less editorial control over what's presented. Being scientists, we in the labs don't like to take sides. But we still predict that the "pure democratic" optimism of Wikipedia won't last long throughout the web, and its core rallying cry — the "neutral point of view" — will be what keeps it from growing beyond a useful, but limited, resource.

Whether or not "information wants to be free" will always be a matter of debate as long as there are people who have information and want to be paid for it. What won't change is that information wants to be interesting. We predict that we'll see more and more sites with the glut of links and cross-links and pingbacks and RSS feed aggregates and democratic user community created-content, but as the process becomes easier, it'll gradually go the way of the frameset and the blink tag. As much as we value objectivity, most of us will return to our highly opinionated blogs and news aggregates that have a stronger, central editorial voice. And no, we're not just saying that to suck up to our editors. Who look like they've lost weight.

And of course, Wikipedia will still be useful if you're wondering where your mandibula is.