James Gleickās The Information: A history, a theory, a flood is a biography of information that puts todayās revolution in some much-needed context
FOR most of history, messages were things: clay tablets, scrolls, scraps of paper, even glyphs tattooed on to the head of a slave, which were revealed only when he visited the message receiverās barber. But over time, and especially during the 20th century, mathematicians, engineers and inventors slowly began to divorce the content of a message from its physical vehicle, and in doing so changed how humans used and understood information.
Most importantly, these thinkers refined the very definition of information, purifying the concept just as earlier generations of scientists had purified the meaning of āmassā and āenergyā. But whereas the crisp new definitions of mass and energy restricted the wordsā use to technical contexts, informationās new definition, one based on bits and entropy (I = -āpi log2 pi, to be precise) widened its applicability. Information theory soon colonised economics, genetics, thermodynamics and other fields. Today some physicists even argue that information is more fundamental than both mass and energy ā that it may be the very bedrock of reality.
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The long emergence and eventual triumph of information and information theory is the subject of James Gleickās aptly subtitled The Information: A history, a theory, a flood. It is a vast account of informationās history, beginning with long-distance drumming in Africa ā a network of drums that could send messages hundreds of miles ā and ending with Wikipedia. It notes some dizzying technological jumps. For example, those long-distance drummers switched to using cellphones within one generation.
Gleick really geeks out in places ā you donāt often hear a logarithm described, ecstatically, as āan electric flashlight sent into a lightless worldā. His enthusiasm is contagious, but at times his excitement results in text that is a little dense.
Overall, however, the book concentrates on the personalities in the history of information technology ā people like Charles Babbage, who invented the first computer; Ada Lovelace, the first computer programmer, who was Lord Byronās daughter and Babbageās colleague; and Claude Shannon, who finally defined information precisely and in doing so ushered in modern communications.
It is fitting that people dominate Gleickās history, because many early long-distance communication systems were designed to look human, such as the wooden trunks with movable āarmsā controlled by ropes that sent primitive semaphore across the mountains and rooftops of Napoleon-era France. This anthropomorphism encouraged people to compare communication systems to human nervous systems. It seems that we need to relate to technologies in a human way, and arenāt wired to view information abstractly. Indeed it is striking how often writers and historians have recycled this clichĆ© with every new advance. Including, of course, the internet.
Entertaining, funny and clever, The Information puts our modern āinformation revolutionā in context, helping us appreciate the many information revolutions that preceded and enabled it. The internet certainly has changed things, but Gleick shows that it has changed only what has already changed many times before.
The Information: A history, a theory, a flood
Pantheon / Fourth Estate