Each time we visit Google, it is with held breath. We have seen the
bold 1990s freedom of the Internet dwindle into a thousand fragmented
pieces where only the strong survive. Advertisements are everywhere,
intruding into our mindscape. The ten thousands of images a year we
see, advertising everything from Goodyear-on-a-blimp to online gambling
protruding out of your Yahoo mail, are all designed upon the principle
of mindless repetition.
Each time we visit Google, it is with held breath. We have seen the
bold 1990s freedom of the Internet dwindle into a thousand fragmented
pieces where only the strong survive. Advertisements are everywhere,
intruding into our mindscape. The ten thousands of images a year we
see, advertising everything from Goodyear-on-a-blimp to online gambling
protruding out of your Yahoo mail, are all designed upon the principle
of mindless repetition.
It is well understood that the more times you see an image, the more
likely you are to purchase its related product when you are wandering
down the store aisles, wondering what to purchase. You've had the
moment when you're standing in front of seven different brands of
raisin brans, and you opt for one or another, little calculating that
the one you purchased was simply imprinted upon your brain more times
in recent advertising.
Google strides like a valiant and noble knight, a Don Quixote
on a mission from heaven, to clear the mindscape of all those lurching,
fragmented thoughts: "buy me!" "buy me!" "buy me!"
Like a gift from another universe, where things are cleaner, and
evaluated by merit rather than popularity, Google presents an elaborate
algorithm for
sorting websites into fields of clarity. So insightful is their
methodology, other larger search engines have bowed to this upstart.
Even the mighty Yahoo, the first big engine on the 'net, has Google
under the hood. So do a dozen other search engines, and thousands of
sites who have turned their proprietary search functions over to the
agile Google churner. AltaVista, Lycos, metacrawlers, and a few other great ones
keep the American principle of competition solid, yet here we behold
the miracle of Google.
We programmers watched Google come from behind, for we needed a
relevance-based engine long before anyone else did: we had to have it
so we could put it in the hands of others who needed our services; we
were developers: we knew the information was out there, and were
willing to spend hours tracking it down. Somewhere along the way, we'd
stumble across this small search engine called Google, and discover
that it turned up amazingly relevant searches, time and time again. No
advertising. Quick.
So we bookmarked it, then we earmarked it, and finally we began to
deliver the most precious kind of advertising which can be earned: we
told our friends about it. And we delighted in the lack of advertising.
Truly a geek's machine; sleek and relevant.
We watched the Internet bubble come crashing down around its own self-
exuberance; we all know at least one programmer humbled by the rapid
withdrawal of venture capital.
And so we watch Google carefully now, knowing that it is still bearing
fruit for its venture capital investors, yet also knowing that our
economy is continuing to draw inward, and as carefully as we form our
sentences regarding the future of our welfare... we hold our breath
when we visit Google each day for its wealth of free, friendly, and
advertising-free three billion interrelated facets of information.
We watched Google handle the September 11 tragedy, worried that it
might spark them into becoming a news portal, since their cache ability
made them compete with sites like CNN which were swamped with 50,000
hits per second... and we saw Google come out cleanly, building on the
crisis in a noble, not-capitalizing-on-the-crisis, manner. Now you can
visit Google and find current information; it's a portal, yet ever so
quietly, since there are no advertisements. Portals have become
synonymous with a barrage of advertising, so what do we call this
gallant creature who will not stoop to capitalism?
It's just a humble search engine: A search engine which points the way
into a future with a clean mindscape. We may not all make it there;
spammers prove that they'll come into such a future kicking and
screaming for attention, and since we know that we all have to arrive
together or else we none of us can arrive, we tolerate them.
Yes, we hold our breath each time we visit Google, lest they make that
sad plunge into our noisy world instead of rising above it. And we are
continually
surprised by the improvements which they are making. These are not
trivial improvements, simple cosmetic additions; one by one they have
expanded our notion of how powerful a search engine can be, how it can
nimbly reach into the deepest crevices of the Internet and produce a
slew of relevant information on obscure topics. Search within groups.
Search for images. Search only for images which are wallpaper sized
from sites in Europe and are black and white.
The essence of the Internet, the information revolution, has somehow
been bestowed upon the novel minds working for Google. We look at their
job offerings, and yearn for the day when we can deserve such
benevolence as to work for Google. Certainly only the best of the best
work for Google (or id). They
play hockey in their parking lots, and eat catered food every day. Ah,
there we begin holding our breath. We like to have fun at work, but too
much fun is a sign of venture capital.
How do they do it, how do they keep going, and going, and going without
losing integrity by selling ads or trying to
do too much? Google quietly inspires us to consider a world without
advertising. Oh, they take advertising alright, yet look at it: it's
extremely targeted, intended to be relevant to the searcher. With a
thick black line separating advertising and content. No advertiser
images. None of this irrelevant barrage. Looking for a new ISP? Here's
twenty links, and over here in the corner, ten folks who've paid us
money to be listed when you search for ISPs. Google drew a distinct
line between the advertiser content and their own content. And they
steadfastly looked toward our needs when they tolerated no images. Text-
based. Get the information into the hand of the gentleman while he
needs it, and trust that he will come back later with a thank-you note
in hand.
Well, here is one thank you note. I hold my breath each time I visit
Google, and I use it extensively, and have for years. I was Googling
when Google wasn't yet cool, and I'm delighted to see it surviving. I
hope they remain solid in their condition of accepting no image-based
advertisements, and pray they will continue to inspire us with clarity
on the concept of what it means to serve.
The cache concept, now firmly entrenched in the way we conceive of the
Internet, is perhaps the greatest aspect of the information revolution:
You once published a site, but now it is defunct. Or your site is presently
being slashdotted or DOS'd. No
problem, visit the Google cache for the
site, and there's your info, as clear and sometimes quicker than
the original version. The folks at archive.org have taken this idea and
run with it, yet I must admit the first time I realized how profoundly
differently we were going to be processing information in the future
came when I understood what Google was doing with their cache. I prayed
then, and the prayer was answered, that the cache would not be shut
down because of re-publishing rights issues. Now Google has enough
momentum that it would take an act of Congress to shut off their
caching.
Take a look at Google. Unlike most companies with bold pretty mission
statements hiding inner corruption, Google somehow matches their ten
operating principles with immediate proof. They do it right; they work
hard for their money.
I appreciate Google's integrity in keeping ads unobtrusive, too.
But what I like even better is how good it is at returning useful
info. Nearly every day, I pinch myself to make sure I'm not dreaming.
Yes, I really do have a reference library that spans most of human
knowledge, and yes, I really can look things up nearly as fast as
I think of the questions.
I boldly predict that within a decade, it'll be common knowledge
that Google has made the human race smarter. Within a decade,
schools will grapple with the question of whether students can
use Google during tests, just as they grappled with the pocket
calculator question a few years ago.
The only thing that would be better would be an open source,
massively distributed Google.
K<bob>