Confessions of a Googleholic

by Madeleine Kando


Googling has become my middle name. I am Googling every thought that comes into my head. It’s a disease. ‘Why is my iphone almost the same size as my reading glasses container?’ ‘Why does my sister not like me as much as before?’ ‘Will we ever travel to another star?’ As if Google were my psychiatrist, my mother and my best friend, all rolled into one. I know. It’s a clear sign of either having too much time on my hands, or not enough human contact.

I have replaced my brain with a digital monster. Not too long ago I was a normal person. I wondered and pondered about things, accepted the inevitability of not knowing the answer. That’s what’s fun about wondering and pondering. If there were an answer to everything, it would be the end of thinking, period. If I really really wanted to know the answer to something, I read a book, went to the library, or talked to a flesh and blood person.

I envy my mother. Ata was a natural ponderer. Until her dying day at the age of 103, she had questions, wondering about life after death, why birds can fly and humans cannot. She was almost blind, had been deaf for decades, but her mind was brimming with curiosity. She was not what you call a learned person. She had an artist’s soul that wanted to discover, like a 103 year old Magellan. Once she had a question in her head, she wouldn’t let go and urged everyone to participate in her quest, be it her children, her numerous friends, her orthopedist and the unfortunate handyman who was trying to fix the leak in her bathroom. Deep down, she knew she wouldn’t find a definitive answer, but the exploration was what made her tick. Googling was as foreign to her as a rotary phone to a Gen Zer.
I blame Google for hundreds of wasted hours, for spending half my day uncombed and unwashed. With her blank google eyes, she sits there on my desk, looking at me with an air of total confidence. She got me so hooked that a little search here and there is no longer enough. I cannot start my day without a slug of Google tonic.

I am told (by Google, who else?) that there are 2 types of curiosity: perceptual and epistemic curiosity. The first one has to do with wanting to experience new things, like traveling or bungee jumping. The second one has to do with wanting to acquire knowledge for its own sake. There is potentially a third kind of curiosity called ‘diversive’ curiosity, that’s mostly to ward off boredom, like sitting in the subway and staring at your iphone. Or could that be the hidden source of my malady?

Google was born on September 4, 1998. Can you imagine? As of this writing I could be her grandmother, for crying out loud, and she has the audacity to tell me what to think?

My googleholism has progressed to the point where I asked her the ultimate question: ‘What is the Meaning of Life?’ I was epistemically curious to see what Google would fetch, so I asked her in 4 different languages, just to let her know I meant business. The Dutch answer was full of nostalgia for a world without digital answers, the German answer avoided the question altogether by asking a rhetorical question about the true meaning of ‘meaning’ and ‘life’. The French answer told me that only love gives meaning to our existence and the English answer spit out the question back to me, but only after a page full of ads for religious organizations and self-improvement websites.

I can hear you think ‘how naive can you be? You might as well ask your dog why the sky is blue’. But I am not the only one to ask Google philosophical questions. It is among the top 25 most searched questions. Google it, if you don’t believe me.

You think Google spends all her time searching for the one true answer to your question, but she just lets schmucks like you and I do the legwork and takes all the credit. It's called SEO optimization. Her algorithms search for websites that have tons of links to it and that's what she lists first.

At least people like the Buddha walked the walk, spending years searching for the truth. Only after Siddhārtha Gautama (that was his real name) came up with a satisfactory answer, did he spend time optimizing his followers. He started close to home, converting family members and friends and let the ball roll from there. Had he been alive today, his website would have ranked on top in a Google search.

Google’s answers are a reflection of what people are searching for and what’s available on the web. And what’s available on the web is determined by how popular you are, like the popular kid in school. It’s not what you have to say, but how good you are at shouting it out. So, a Google search refers you to the popular kid, not necessarily the smart kid. If you really want to find the gem in the pile of pig pooh, click on the last page in a search result, not the first one.

The problem is I have become addicted to instant gratification. I am too lazy to spend time in the company of the smart kids, the great thinkers of history and I am too impatient to have a heart to heart with my own brain. I need my fix, NOW!

If there is a Googleholics Anonymous out there that can help me come to my senses, please let me know. Or I could just Google it... leave comment here