Wikipedia and Britannica, which one is better? Just a few years ago it was no contest. Britannica would win on all counts: presentability, reliability, credibility. This is not to say that Britannica’s credibility has always stood at 100%. As a matter of fact, Britannica has often been in error, particularly in such confused areas of knowledge as Soviet history, which is obviously of great importance to me. However, in this respect, it used to be in no greater error than the best of her sisters, and, comparatively speaking, Britannica was second to none, if not better, among the other greats of the prestigious world of great encyclopedias.
At the same time, Wikipedia, in her infancy, suffered from severe incompleteness, was riddled with all sorts of errors, and, generally speaking, even at first glance did not command a similar respect as the printed sort. The unforgiving rule of thumb: do not trust what you find on the Internet, applied to her in full measure.
But things have changed a lot since a few years ago. Wikipedia is definitely getting better and more reliable, as time goes by. Britannica, on the other hand, has struggled, her content steadily deteriorating in quality, in recent revisions, in certain politically sensitive areas of knowledge. (I am regularly using the 1975 edition, and, comparing it to later editions, particularly the current online edition, I know what I am talking about. I will illustrate this point somewhat in my next posting Was Trotsky A Menshevik?) And now the latest mortal blow to the eminently presentable image of Britannica: after 244 years in existence, her print edition is no more. From now on, she will be reduced to the online function, where her conventional aesthetic advantage over Wikipedia has been reduced to naught. Pity! I love physical books, and even though their overall sales have considerably suffered with the advent of the web, their elitist quality, which Wikipedia never possessed and never will, is going to be sorely missed.
As for the eventual outcome of the emergent struggle for user popularity between these two notable online entities: Wikipedia and Britannica, from now on it will be taking place on Wikipedia’s home turf, and not to be carelessly dismissed is the disappointment factor which Britannica’s retreat from the print field brings in, as her negative baggage. Pity! I used to love Britannica, and now I just wish her luck, in her new “printless” capacity, which is foreign to me, whereas Wikipedia is a perfect natural in those cyber-seas.
Having said that, I am never going to renounce my old 1975 print edition, and, in this sense, Britannica will never cease to exist for me. To be honest, this development brings me some relief, as a welcome closure to what has been to me a steady decline over the last few decades in its quality, where, incidentally, she is by no means alone, being a party to the general trend of ideological subversion, which I had a chance to comment on in my previous entry Webster’s Dictionary As An Authority Of Sorts. In my next posting, as promised, I will touch upon this sad trend again, in the context of one specific case of an unwelcome latter-day revision.
At the same time, Wikipedia, in her infancy, suffered from severe incompleteness, was riddled with all sorts of errors, and, generally speaking, even at first glance did not command a similar respect as the printed sort. The unforgiving rule of thumb: do not trust what you find on the Internet, applied to her in full measure.
But things have changed a lot since a few years ago. Wikipedia is definitely getting better and more reliable, as time goes by. Britannica, on the other hand, has struggled, her content steadily deteriorating in quality, in recent revisions, in certain politically sensitive areas of knowledge. (I am regularly using the 1975 edition, and, comparing it to later editions, particularly the current online edition, I know what I am talking about. I will illustrate this point somewhat in my next posting Was Trotsky A Menshevik?) And now the latest mortal blow to the eminently presentable image of Britannica: after 244 years in existence, her print edition is no more. From now on, she will be reduced to the online function, where her conventional aesthetic advantage over Wikipedia has been reduced to naught. Pity! I love physical books, and even though their overall sales have considerably suffered with the advent of the web, their elitist quality, which Wikipedia never possessed and never will, is going to be sorely missed.
As for the eventual outcome of the emergent struggle for user popularity between these two notable online entities: Wikipedia and Britannica, from now on it will be taking place on Wikipedia’s home turf, and not to be carelessly dismissed is the disappointment factor which Britannica’s retreat from the print field brings in, as her negative baggage. Pity! I used to love Britannica, and now I just wish her luck, in her new “printless” capacity, which is foreign to me, whereas Wikipedia is a perfect natural in those cyber-seas.
Having said that, I am never going to renounce my old 1975 print edition, and, in this sense, Britannica will never cease to exist for me. To be honest, this development brings me some relief, as a welcome closure to what has been to me a steady decline over the last few decades in its quality, where, incidentally, she is by no means alone, being a party to the general trend of ideological subversion, which I had a chance to comment on in my previous entry Webster’s Dictionary As An Authority Of Sorts. In my next posting, as promised, I will touch upon this sad trend again, in the context of one specific case of an unwelcome latter-day revision.
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