[Paleopsych] Wired 13.03: The Book Stops Here

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Wired 13.03: The Book Stops Here
http://www.wired.com/wired/archive/13.03/wiki_pr.html

[I knew Jimbo from Objectivist lists. A rather short-tempered fellow, at 
least with me. He also has given up on discussing Ayn Rand. Wikipedia is a 
great resource. The current headmaster of my prep school (visit 
http://fvs.edu) told me that the single most important skill for the world 
of 2025 will be how to distinguish good from bogus information on the Net. 
I agree completely, but the folks at the U.S. Department of Education are 
only interested in what can be measured.]

    Jimmy Wales wanted to build a free encyclopedia on the Internet. So he
    raised an army of amateurs and created the self-organizing,
    self-repairing, hyperaddictive library of the future called Wikipedia.
    By Daniel H. Pink

    Dixon, New Mexico, is a rural town with a few hundred residents and no
    traffic lights. At the end of a dirt road, in the shadow of a small
    mountain sits a gray trailer. It is the home of Einar Kvaran. To
    understand the most audacious experiment of the postboom Internet,
    this is a good place to begin.

    Kvaran is a tall and hale 56-year-old with a ruddy face, blue eyes,
    and blond hair that's turning white. He calls himself an "art
    historian without portfolio" but has no formal credentials in his area
    of proclaimed expertise. He's never published a scholarly article or
    taught a college course. Over three decades, he's been a Peace Corps
    volunteer, an autoworker, a union steward, a homeschooling mentor, and
    the drummer in a Michigan band called Kodai Road. Right now, he's
    unemployed. Which isn't to say he doesn't work. For about six hours
    each day, Kvaran reads and writes about American sculpture and public
    art and publishes his articles for an audience of millions around the
    world.

    Hundreds of books on sculptors, regional architecture, and art history
    are stacked floor to ceiling inside his trailer - along with 68 thick
    albums containing 20 years of photos he's taken on the American road.
    The outlet for his knowledge is at the other end of his dialup
    Internet connection: the daring but controversial Web site known as
    Wikipedia.

    Four years ago, a wealthy options trader named Jimmy Wales set out to
    build a massive online encyclopedia ambitious in purpose and unique in
    design. This encyclopedia would be freely available to anyone. And it
    would be created not by paid experts and editors, but by whoever
    wanted to contribute. With software called Wiki - which allows anybody
    with Web access to go to a site and edit, delete, or add to what's
    there - Wales and his volunteer crew would construct a repository of
    knowledge to rival the ancient library of Alexandria.

    In 2001, the idea seemed preposterous. In 2005, the nonprofit venture
    is the largest encyclopedia on the planet. Wikipedia offers 500,000
    articles in English - compared with Britannica's 80,000 and Encarta's
    4,500 - fashioned by more than 16,000 contributors. Tack on the
    editions in 75 other languages, including Esperanto and Kurdish, and
    the total Wikipedia article count tops 1.3 million.

    Wikipedia's explosive growth is due to the contributions of Kvaran and
    others like him. Self-taught and self-motivated, Kvaran wrote his
    first article last summer - a short piece on American sculptor Corrado
    Parducci. Since then, Kvaran has written or contributed to two dozen
    other entries on American art, using his library and photographs as
    sources. He's added words and images to 30 other topics, too - the
    Lincoln Memorial, baseball player Carl Yastrzemski, photographer Tina
    Modotti, and Iceland's first prime minister, Hannes Hafstein, who
    happens to be Kvaran's great-grandfather. "I think of myself as a
    teacher," Kvaran says over tea at his kitchen table.

    To many guardians of the knowledge cathedral - librarians,
    lexicographers, academics - that's precisely the problem. Who died and
    made this guy professor? No pedigreed scholars scrutinize his work. No
    research assistants check his facts. Should we trust an encyclopedia
    that allows anyone with a pulse and a mousepad to opine about Jackson
    Pollock's place in postmodernism? What's more, the software that made
    Wikipedia so easy to build also makes it easy to manipulate and
    deface. A former editor at the venerable Encyclopædia Britannica
    recently likened the site to a public rest room: You never know who
    used it last.

    So the modest trailer at the end of a dirt road in this pinprick of a
    town holds some cosmic questions. Is Wikipedia a heartening effort in
    digital humanitarianism - or a not-so-smart mob unleashing
    misinformation on the masses? Are well-intentioned amateurs any
    replacement for professionals? And is charging nothing for knowledge
    too high a price?

    Recovery may take 12 steps, but becoming a junkie requires only four.
    First comes chance - an unexpected encounter. Chance stirs curiosity.
    Curiosity leads to experimentation. And experimentation cascades into
    addiction.

    For Danny Wool, chance arrived on a winter afternoon in 2002, after an
    argument about - of all things - Kryptonite. Googling the term from
    his Brooklyn home to settle the debate, he came upon the Wikipedia
    entry. He looked up a few more subjects and noticed that each one
    contained a mysterious hyperlink that said Edit. Curious but too
    nervous to do anything, he returned to Wikipedia a few more times.
    Then one night he corrected an error in an article about Jewish
    holidays. You can do that?! It was his first inhalation of Wiki crack.
    He became one of Wikipedia's earliest registered users and wrote his
    first article - on Muckleshoot, a Washington state Indian tribe. Since
    then, he has made more than 16,000 contributions.

    Bryan Derksen wrote the original Kryptonite article that Wool
    discovered. While surfing from his home in Edmonton, Derksen also
    stumbled upon Wikipedia and quickly traveled the path to addiction. He
    read a few entries on Greek mythology and found them inadequate. The
    Edit link beckoned him like a street pusher. He clicked it and typed
    in a few changes. You can do that?! "I just got hooked," he tells me.
    He's now made more edits than all but three Wikipedians - some 40,000
    additions and revisions.

    Number one on the list of contributors is Derek Ramsey, who has
    automated his addiction. A software engineer in Pennsylvania, Ramsey
    wrote a Java program called rambot that automatically updates
    Wikipedia articles on cities and counties. So far, the man and machine
    combination has contributed more than 100,000 edits.

    String enough of these addicts together, add a few thousand casual
    users, and pretty soon you have a new way to do an old thing.
    Humankind has long sought to tame the jungle of knowledge and display
    it in a zoo of friendly facts. But while the urge to create
    encyclopedias has endured, the production model has evolved. Wikipedia
    is the latest stage.

    In the beginning, encyclopedias relied on the One Smart Guy model. In
    ancient Greece, Aristotle put pen to papyrus and single-handedly tried
    to record all the knowledge of his time. Four hundred years later, the
    Roman nobleman Pliny the Elder cranked out a 37-volume set of the
    day's knowledge. The Chinese scholar Tu Yu wrote an encyclopedia in
    the ninth century. And in the 1700s, Diderot and a few pals (including
    Voltaire and Rousseau) took 29 years to create the Encyclopédie, ou
    Dictionnaire Raisonné des Sciences, des Arts et des Métiers.

    With the Industrial Revolution, the One Smart Guy approach gradually
    gave way to the One Best Way model, which borrowed the principles of
    scientific management and the lessons of assembly lines. Encyclopædia
    Britannica pioneered this approach in Scotland and honed it to
    perfection. Large groups of experts, each performing a task on a
    detailed work chart under the direction of a manager, produced
    encyclopedias of enormous breadth. Late in the 20th century, computers
    changed encyclopedias - and the Internet changed them more. Today,
    Britannica and World Book still sell some 130-pound, $1,100,
    multivolume sets, but they earn most of their money from Internet
    subscriptions. Yet while the medium has shifted from atoms to bits,
    the production model - and therefore the product itself - has remained
    the same.

    Now Wales has brought forth a third model - call it One for All.
    Instead of one really smart guy, Wikipedia draws on thousands of
    fairly smart guys and gals - because in the metamathematics of
    encyclopedias, 500 Kvarans equals one Pliny the Elder. Instead of
    clearly delineated lines of authority, Wikipedia depends on radical
    decentralization and self-organization - open source in its purest
    form. Most encyclopedias start to fossilize the moment they're printed
    on a page. But add Wiki software and some helping hands and you get
    something self-repairing and almost alive. A different production
    model creates a product that's fluid, fast, fixable, and free.

    The One for All model has delivered solid results in a remarkably
    short time. Look up any topic you know something about - from the
    Battle of Fredericksburg to Madame Bovary to Planck's law of black
    body radiation - and you'll probably find that the Wikipedia entry is,
    if not perfect, not bad. Sure, the Leonard Nimoy entry is longer than
    the one on Toni Morrison. But the Morrison article covers the basics
    of her life and literary works about as well as the World Book entry.
    And among the nearly half-million articles are tens of thousands whose
    quality easily rivals that of Britannica or Encarta.

    What makes the model work is not only the collective knowledge and
    effort of a far-flung labor force, but also the willingness to abide
    by two core principles. The first: neutrality. All articles should be
    written without bias. Wikipedians are directed not to take a stand on
    controversial subjects like abortion or global warming but to fairly
    represent all sides. The second principle is good faith. All work
    should be approached with the assumption that the author is trying to
    help the project, not harm it.

    Wikipedia represents a belief in the supremacy of reason and the
    goodness of others. In the Wikipedia ideal, people of goodwill
    sometimes disagree. But from the respectful clash of opposing
    viewpoints and the combined wisdom of the many, something resembling
    the truth will emerge. Most of the time.

    If you looked up Jimmy Carter on Wikipedia one morning this winter,
    you would have discovered something you couldn't learn from
    Britannica. According to the photo that accompanied Carter's entry,
    America's 39th president was a scruffy, random unshaven man with his
    left index finger shoved firmly up his nose.

    Lurking in the underbrush of Wikipedia's idyllic forest of reason and
    good intentions are contributors less noble in purpose, whose numbers
    are multiplying. Wiki devotees have names for many of them. First,
    there are the trolls, minor troublemakers who breach the principle of
    good faith with inane edits designed to rile serious users. More
    insidious are vandals, who try to wreck the site - inserting profanity
    and ethnic slurs, unleashing bots that put ads into entries, and
    pasting pictures of penises and other junior-high laugh-getters. Con-
    sidering how easy it is to make changes on Wikipedia, you'd imagine
    these ne'er-do-wells could potentially overwhelm the site. But they
    haven't - at least not yet - because defenses against them are built
    into the structure.

    Anybody who is logged in can place an article on a "watch list."
    Whenever somebody amends the entry, the watch list records the change.
    So when that anonymous vandal replaced a Jimmy Carter photo with a
    nose-picker, all the Wikipedians with Jimmy Carter on their watch list
    knew about it. One of them merely reverted to the original portrait.
    At the same time, the user who rescued the former president from
    Boogerville noticed that the vandal had also posted the nose-pick
    photo on the "Rapping" entry - and he got rid of that image just four
    minutes after the photo appeared.

    On controversial topics, the response can be especially swift.
    Wikipedia's article on Islam has been a persistent target of
    vandalism, but Wikipedia's defenders of Islam have always proved
    nimbler than the vandals. Take one fairly typical instance. At 11:20
    one morning not too long ago, an anonymous user replaced the entire
    Islam entry with a single scatological word. At 11:22, a user named
    Solitude reverted the entry. At 11:25, the anonymous user struck
    again, this time replacing the article with the phrase "u stink!" By
    11:26, another user, Ahoerstemeir, reverted that change - and the
    vandal disappeared. When MIT's Fernanda Viégas and IBM's Martin
    Wattenberg and Kushal Dave studied Wikipedia, they found that cases of
    mass deletions, a common form of vandalism, were corrected in a median
    time of 2.8 minutes. When an obscenity accompanied the mass deletion,
    the median time dropped to 1.7 minutes.

    It turns out that Wikipedia has an innate capacity to heal itself. As
    a result, woefully outnumbered vandals often give up and leave. (To
    paraphrase Linus Torvalds, given enough eyeballs, all thugs are
    callow.) What's more, making changes is so simple that who prevails
    often comes down to who cares more. And hardcore Wikipedians care. A
    lot.

    Wool logs on to Wikipedia at 6 each morning and works two hours before
    leaving for his day job developing education programs for a museum.
    When he gets back home around 6:30 pm, he hops back on Wikipedia for a
    few more hours. Derksen checks his watch list each morning before
    leaving for work at a small company that sells medical equipment on
    eBay. When he returns home, he'll spend a few hours just clicking on
    the Random Page link to see what needs to get done. It's tempting to
    urge people like Wool and Derksen to get a life. But imagine if they
    instead spent their free time walking through public parks, picking up
    garbage. We'd call them good citizens.

    Still, even committed citizens sometimes aren't muscular enough to
    fend off determined bad guys. As Wikipedia has grown, Wales has been
    forced to impose some more centralized, policelike measures - to guard
    against "edit warriors," "point-of-view warriors," "revert warriors,"
    and all those who have difficulty playing well with others. "We try to
    be as open as we can," Wales says, "but some of these people are just
    impossible." During last year's presidential election, Wikipedia had
    to lock both the George W. Bush and the John Kerry pages because of
    incessant vandalism and bickering. The Wikipedia front page, another
    target of attacks, is also protected.

    If that suggests an emerging hierarchy in this bastion of egalitarian
    knowledge-gathering, so be it. The Wikipedia power pyramid looks like
    this: At the bottom are anonymous contributors, people who make a few
    edits and are identified only by their IP addresses. On the next level
    stand Wikipedia's myriad registered users around the globe, people
    such as Kvaran in New Mexico, who have chosen a screen name (he's
    Carptrash) and make edits under that byline. Some of the most
    dedicated users try to reach the next level - administrator.
    Wikipedia's 400 administrators, Derksen and Wool among them, can
    delete articles, protect pages, and block IP addresses. Above this
    group are bureaucrats, who can crown administrators. The most
    privileged bureaucrats are stewards. And above stewards are
    developers, 57 superelites who can make direct changes to the
    Wikipedia software and database. There's also an arbitration committee
    that hears disputes and can ban bad users.

    At the very top, with powers that range far beyond those of any mere
    Wikipedian mortal, is Wales, known to everyone in Wiki-world as Jimbo.
    He can do pretty much anything he wants - from locking pages to
    banning people to getting rid of developers. So vast are his powers
    that some began calling him "the benevolent dictator." But Wales
    bristled at that tag. So his minions assigned him a different, though
    no less imposing, label. "Jimbo," says Wikipedia administrator Mark
    Pellegrini, "is the God-King."

    The God-King drives a Hyundai. On a sunny Florida Monday, Wales is
    piloting his red Accent from his St. Petersburg home across the bay to
    downtown Tampa, where on the 11th floor of a shabby office building a
    company called Neutelligent manages a vast server farm. In one of the
    back rows, stacked on two racks, are the guts of Wikipedia - 42
    servers connected by a hair ball of orange and blue cables. For the
    next two hours, Wales scoots to and fro, plugging and unplugging
    cables while trading messages with a Wikipedia developer on Internet
    Relay Chat via a nearby keyboard.

    Back in St. Pete, Wales oversees his empire from a pair of monitors in
    Wikipedia's headquarters - two cramped, windowless rooms that look
    like the offices of a failed tech startup. Computer equipment is
    strewn everywhere. An open copy of Teach Yourself PHP, MySQL, and
    Apache is splayed on the floor. It may be good to be God-King, but
    it's not glamorous.

    Wales began his journey in Huntsville, Alabama. His father worked in a
    grocery store. His mother and grandmother operated a tiny private
    school called the House of Learning, which Wales and his three
    siblings attended. He graduated from Auburn University in 1989 with a
    degree in finance and ended up studying options pricing in an
    economics PhD program at Indiana University. Bored with academic life,
    he left school in 1994 and went to Chicago, where he took to betting
    on interest rate and foreign-currency fluctuations. In six years, he
    earned enough to support himself and his wife for the rest of their
    lives.

    They moved to San Diego in 1998. The times being what they were, Wales
    started an Internet company called Bomis, a search engine and Web
    directory. He began hearing about the fledgling open source movement
    and wondered whether volunteers could create something besides
    software. So he recruited Larry Sanger, then an Ohio State University
    doctoral student in philosophy, whom he'd encountered on some
    listservs. He put Sanger on the Bomis payroll, and together they
    launched a free online encyclopedia called Nupedia. Why an
    encyclopedia? Wales says he simply wanted to see if it could be done.

    With Sanger as editor in chief, Nupedia essentially replicated the One
    Best Way model. He assembled a roster of academics to write articles.
    (Participants even had to fax in their degrees as proof of their
    expertise.) And he established a seven-stage process of editing,
    fact-checking, and peer review. "After 18 months and $250,000," Wales
    says, "we had 12 articles."

    Then an employee told Wales about Wiki software. On January 15, 2001,
    they launched a Wiki-fied version and within a month, they had 200
    articles. In a year, they had 18,000. And on September 20, 2004, when
    the Hebrew edition added an article on Kazakhstan's flag, Wikipedia
    had its 1 millionth article. Total investment: about $500,000, most of
    it from Wales himself.

    Sanger left the project in 2002. "In the Nupedia model, there was room
    for an editor in chief," Wales says. "The Wiki model is too
    distributed for that." Sanger, a scholar at heart, returned to
    academic life. His co-founder, meanwhile, became a minor geek rock
    star. Wales has been asked to advise the BBC, Nokia, and other large
    enterprises curious about Wikis. Technology conferences in the US and
    Europe clamor for him. And while he's committed to keeping his
    creation a "charitable project," as he constantly calls it
    (wikipedia.com became wikipedia.org almost three years ago), the
    temptations are mounting.

    Late last year, Wales and Angela Beesley, an astonishingly dedicated
    Wikipedian, launched a for-profit venture called WikiCities. The
    company will provide free hosting for "community-based" sites - RVers,
    poodle owners, genealogy buffs, and so on. The sites will operate on
    the same software that powers Wikipedia, and the content will be
    available under a free license. But WikiCities intends to make money
    by selling advertising. After all, if several thousand people can
    create an encyclopedia, a few hundred Usher devotees should be able to
    put together the ultimate fan site. And if legions of Usher fans are
    hanging out in one place, some advertiser will pay to try to sell them
    concert tickets or music downloads.

    It may feel like we've been down this road before - remember GeoCities
    and theglobe.com? But Wales says this is different because those
    earlier sites lacked any mechanism for true community. "It was just
    free homepages," he says. WikiCities, he believes, will let people who
    share a passion also share a project. They'll be able to design and
    build projects together. So the founder of the Web's grand experiment
    in the democratic dissemination of information is also trying to
    resurrect GeoCities. While some may find the notion silly, many others
    just want a piece of Jimbo magic.

    During our conversation over lunch, Wales' cell phone rings. It's a
    partner at Accel, the venture capital firm, calling to talk about
    WikiCities and any other Wiki-related investment ideas Wales might
    have. Wales says he's busy and asks the caller to phone back later.
    Then he smiles at me. "I'll let him cool his heels awhile."

    Wikipedia's articles on the British peerage system - clearheaded
    explanations of dukes, viscounts, and other titles of nobility - are
    largely the work of a user known as Lord Emsworth. A few of Emsworth's
    pieces on kings and queens of England have been honored as Wikipedia's
    Featured Article of the Day. It turns out that Lord Emsworth claims to
    be a 16-year-old living in South Brunswick, New Jersey. On Wikipedia,
    nobody has to know you're a sophomore.

    And that has some distressed. Larry Sanger gave voice to these
    criticisms in a recent essay posted on kuro5hin.org titled "Why
    Wikipedia Must Jettison Its Anti-Elitism." Although he acknowledges
    that "Wikipedia is very cool," he argues that the site's production
    model suffers from two big problems.

    The first is that "regardless of whether Wikipedia actually is more or
    less reliable than the average encyclopedia," librarians, teachers,
    and academics don't perceive it as credible, because it has no formal
    review process. The second problem, according to Sanger, is that the
    site in general and Wales in particular are too "anti-elitist."
    Established scholars might be willing to contribute to Wikipedia - but
    not if they have to deal with trolls and especially not if they're
    considered no different from any schmo with an iMac.

    Speaking from his home in Columbus, Ohio, where he teaches at Ohio
    State, Sanger stresses that Wikipedia is a fine and worthy endeavor.
    But he says that academics don't take it seriously. "A lot of the
    articles look like they're written by undergraduates." He believes
    that "people who make knowing things their life's work should be
    accorded a special place in the project." But since Wikipedia's
    resolute anti-elitism makes that unlikely, Sanger argues, something
    else will happen: Wikipedia will fork - that is, a group of academics
    will take Wikipedia's content, which is available under a free
    license, and produce their own peer-reviewed reference work. "I wanted
    to send a wake-up call to the Wikipedia community to tell them that
    this fork is probably going to happen."

    Wales' response essentially boils down to this: Fork you. "You want to
    organize that?" he sniffs. "Here are the servers." Yet Wales
    acknowledges that in the next year, partly in response to these
    concerns, Wikipedia will likely offer a stable - that is, unchangeable
    - version alongside its One for All edition.

    But both Sanger's critique and Wales' reaction miss a larger point:
    You can't evaluate Wikipedia by traditional encyclopedia standards. A
    forked Wikipedia run by academics would be Nupedia 2.0. It would use
    the One Best Way production model, which inevitably would produce a
    One Best Way product. That's not a better or worse Wikipedia any more
    than Instapundit.com is a better or worse Washington Post. They are
    different animals.

    Encyclopedias aspire to be infallible. But Wikipedia requires that the
    perfect never be the enemy of the good. Citizen editors don't need to
    make an entry flawless. They just need to make it better. As a result,
    even many Wikipedians believe the site is not as good as traditional
    encyclopedias. "On a scale of 1 to 10, I'd give Wikipedia a 7.8 in
    reliability," Kvaran told me in New Mexico. "I'd give Britannica an
    8.8." But how much does that matter? Britannica has been around since
    before the American Revolution; Wikipedia just celebrated its fifth
    birthday. More important, Britannica costs $70 a year; Wikipedia is
    free. The better criterion on which to measure Wikipedia is whether
    this very young, pretty good, ever improving, totally free site serves
    a need - just as the way to measure Britannica is whether the
    additional surety that comes from its production model is worth the
    cost.

    There's another equally important difference between the two
    offerings. The One Best Way approach creates something finished. The
    One for All model creates something alive. When the Indian Ocean
    tsunami erupted late last year, Wikipedians produced several entries
    on the topic within hours. By contrast, World Book, whose CD-ROM
    allows owners to download regular updates, hadn't updated its tsunami
    or Indian Ocean entries a full month after the devastation occurred.
    That's the likely fate of Wikipedia's proposed stable, or snapshot,
    version. Fixing its contents in a book or on a CD or DVD is tantamount
    to embalming a living thing. The body may look great, but it's no
    longer breathing.

    "You can create life in there," says Wikipedian Oliver Brown, a high
    school teacher in Aptos, California. "If you don't know about
    something, you can start an article, and other people can come and
    feed it, nurture it." For example, two years ago, Danny Wool was
    curious about the American architectural sculptor Lee Lawrie, whose
    statue of Atlas sits nearby Rockefeller Center. Wool posted a stub - a
    few sentences on a topic - in the hopes that someone would add to it.
    That someone turned out to be Kvaran, who owned several books on
    Lawrie and who'd photographed his work not only at Rockefeller Center
    but also at the Capitol Building in Lincoln, Nebraska. Today, the
    Lawrie entry has grown from two sentences to several thorough
    paragraphs, a dozen photos, and a list of references. Brown himself
    posted a stub when he was wondering how many people were considered
    the father or mother of something. Today Wikipedia lists more than 230
    people known as the father or mother of an idea, a movement, or an
    invention. And that number will likely be higher tomorrow. As the
    father of this new kind of encyclopedia puts it, "Wikipedia will never
    be finished."

    In 1962, Charles Van Doren - who would go on to become a senior editor
    of Britannica but is more famous for his role in the 1950s quiz show
    scandal - wrote a think piece for the journal The American Behavioral
    Scientist. His essay, "The Idea of an Encyclopedia," is similar in
    spirit to the one Sanger wrote late last year: a warning to his
    community.

    Van Doren warned not that encyclopedias of his day lacked credibility,
    but that they lacked vitality. "The tone of American encyclopedias is
    often fiercely inhuman," he wrote. "It appears to be the wish of some
    contributors to write about living institutions as if they were
    pickled frogs, outstretched upon a dissecting board." An encyclopedia
    ought to be a "revolutionary document," he argued. And while Van Doren
    didn't call for a new production model, he did say that "the ideal
    encyclopedia should be radical. It should stop being safe."

    What stood in the way of this new approach was precisely what
    encyclopedias prided themselves on. "Respectability seems safe," he
    wrote. "But what will be respectable in 30 years seems avant-garde
    now. If an encyclopedia hopes to be respectable in 2000, it must
    appear daring in the year 1963."

    Jimbo and his minions - from Einar Kvaran in his New Mexico trailer to
    Lord Emsworth in his New Jersey bedroom - may seem daring today. But
    they're about to become respectable.

    Contributing editor Daniel H. Pink (dhpink at mac.com) is author of A
    Whole New Mind: Moving From the Information Age to the Conceptual Age.