What’s on your mind?

Take the Internet, and Google in particular, as an example. What does this contemporary database of information truly represent, and how do we interpret its impact on society?

Historically, humans were the primary vessels of knowledge, with wisdom transmitted orally in a 'rhizomatic' or interconnected manner, where knowledge was decentralized and adaptive. With the advent of written technology, this mode shifted to a more structured and classified system. Written texts dominated as the primary source of knowledge for centuries until the emergence of computer technology, which combined text, images, and sound into a dynamic medium.

As Marshall McLuhan observes, traditional classification systems are inadequate compared to the speed at which data can now be processed and accessed on a global scale. Google exemplifies this shift, offering instant access to vast networks of information that challenge older paradigms of knowledge organization. Yet, this transformation is not without consequence. The way we consume and store knowledge is no longer confined to memory or physical texts; it is increasingly outsourced to the "cloud," creating an unprecedented reliance on virtual systems. This shift prompts us to ask: what happens to human thought when our memory functions are externalized, and how does this rewire our perception of reality?

Baudrillard’s concept of "hyperreality" provides a compelling lens to analyze this phenomenon. In a society saturated with images, signs, and information, meaning begins to collapse inward, imploding into a cacophony of 'noise.' In this state of hyperreality, representations no longer reflect reality but instead become "more real than real itself," constructing a new reality that dissolves distinctions between the authentic and the artificial. Google, as a curated database, embodies this hyperreality. It provides answers to every question imaginable but frames these answers within a commercially constructed, algorithmically curated system. In doing so, it transforms knowledge from a shared human endeavor into a commodified product, packaged and sold to the masses.

Barbara Kruger |Untitled (You Invest in the Divinity of the Masterpiece) | 1982

This dynamic is reminiscent of Michelangelo’s The Creation of Adam. The image—infinitely reproduced and reinterpreted in the digital age—depicts two fingers almost touching: the common man (humans) and "God" (Google), the bearer of knowledge. The gap between the fingers, in this interpretation, represents the virtual space—a screen dividing time and space, the virtual and the real. Was such a technology, where knowledge exists at our fingertips, subconsciously envisioned by Michelangelo centuries ago?

Barbara Kruger’s iconic artwork Untitled (You Invest in the Divinity of the Masterpiece) (1982) adds another layer of critique. It underscores how we ascribe divine qualities to systems of power and authority, much like we now do with technology. Google, with its omnipresence and omniscience, becomes a contemporary deity, gudiing our thoughts and decisions while remaining shrouded in algorithmic mystery.

This is not to say that I reject Google as a source of information, or that the written form of knowledge is obsolete. On the contrary, I rely extensively on both. However, the speed and ease with which Google provides information create a deeper dependence, altering not just how we access knowledge but how we think. What if this virtual database were to cease existing suddenly? Would we retain the capacity to think and process information as we did before its time?

“Knowledge is power, Ignorance is bliss.”

Michelangelo’s Creation of Adam

Turning our attention once more to The Creation of Adam, this time the original fresco, we see the full picture. We can imagine a reverse flow of information, where this higher being—more eager and voracious than the lazing receiver in the fresco—stores every thought, doubt, and question as data, fueling the capitalist machine and the paranoid state.

Where is all this data stored? If warehouses currently house this information, will we eventually need entire islands, or even nations, dedicated solely to its storage? Imagine acres of farmlands, but instead of crops, the harvest is data—the ultimate commodity of our age. The Internet, once envisioned as a means to escape the constraints of production and consumption, has become the very reality it sought to transcend: a hyperreal environment.

In the postmodern world, technology "imposes ground rules on our perceptual life," as McLuhan suggests. Not only do we shape our environment; it shapes us, often without our conscious awareness. This underlying influence subtly guides our thoughts and actions, ultimately altering the way we perceive reality itself. Google, as a gatekeeper of contemporary knowledge, exemplifies this duality. It liberates and constrains, informs and commodifies, connects and surveils. As we embrace its infinite possibilities, we must also question: are we shaping the systems of knowledge, or are they shaping us?