CBC Radio 1 "Sunday Edition" had Andrew Keen on on the show recently. Keen is author of the book The Cult of the Amateur: How today's Internet is killing our culture .

Having listened to Keen and not having read the book -- which will go on my summer reading list -- I was intrigued by his hypothesis that the internet "amateur" is swamping "credible" content. Keen's polemic speaks to the supposed legitimacy of commercial or government sponsored media outlets because they utilize professionals. In attempting to draw a distinction between low brow content and presumbly what he considers good stuff he spoke of Youtube. While Youtube is rife with low quality videos it is also a source for a potentially good material. Television is no different. There are no quality filters in the world of television, just a limit on the total volume delivered due to bandwidth and schedule restraints.

Why should the internet be treated with contempt when all that it does is extend bandwidth, deliver more content and free the creator and consumer from schedule restraints? And don't forget that possibility of opening markets and minds in far away places. Nice bonus.

Keen's biggest gripe may come down to the fact that it gets harder to figure out who is credible when there are so many more voices adding to the din. It gets really hard when there are more than 57 channels to listen to, watch or read. Keen may be on to something in discerning that "professional" writers do have a tendency to know what they should write about and where they should contribute that "what". Some bloggers, web journalists and podcasters figure they should write about, speak about or investigate anything. Some bloggers take the stance that we cannot tell them "what I can and cannot write about in my personal blog". That stance is wrong and perhaps fundamentally untrustworthy. In some respects it gives credence to the narrowness of Keen's vision of a few good writers.

While this web site is mine, I cannot write about anything here. I cannot violate personal or professional confidences, agreements, or understandings. I cannot break laws. I cannot deliberately seek to injure or cause hurt. Here's something else; you have a part to play. Your interests and expectations have narrowed and, sometimes, broadened the scope of what I contribute. Over time, the content here defines general and specific themes that are only hinted at by the tags in the left hand margin. That thematic rendering of the content's own impact -- it's "medium is the message" imprint defines a kind of branding that, were I to tamper with it, would betray my readership.

So what if one wants to write about UFO's or conspiracy theories instead of tech business or computer media? What then? I think one way to do that would be in a new forum, a new blog, a new site or some other themed area. Let that person develop a new reputation as an alien abduction expert with a new set of readers in a place called "start again". 

With the death of Ronald Reagan in June 2004, I went looking for a book that would encapsulate the times and the man. Reagan's critics were always quick to point to his Bonzo movies in order to paint him as a simpleton, but this small collection of personally composed letters reveals a man who spent a great deal of his presidency writing. Dimwits don't usually have voluminous correspondence.

The book contains letters from Reagan to (mostly) Americans, written while he was President. Reagan's correspondence was a subset of all White House letters. At regular intervals, a staffer would pull representative letters from the overall stack of inbound mail and hand it over to the President. He took personal responsibility for the content of the replies to those letters. Reagan worked in long hand and then sent the letters back to the staff for typing. The book's editors note that Reagan took responsibility for the numbers and facts he cited; only rarely were his stats required to be changed by a staffer.

Okay, it was a Christmas present and I've been dragging my feet trying to get into it.

This is not a good book.

It's got a kind of opportunistic, "this is a hot topic" feel to it. Tapscott's name tends to pop up on business/social topic du jour books. If you have a distinctly conspiratorial view of corporations and healthy distrust of public companies then you will be banging your fist on the table going "yeah, yeah make those guys transparent". This book tries to explain why a corporation should voluntarily create a cost center focused on feel good.

I'm a stong proponent of ethics in business and marketing, but this book seems to play more to the Maurice Strong orthodoxy of business; make it regal, make it bureaucratic, smother it in policy and put a slab of superiority on top. Not my idea of transparency.

I'll try to keep reading. Not recommended.

Now that I've whet your appetite, go ahead and click through to check out some of the other reviews on-line. Maybe I'm wrong...