Among the heavy forces weighing to determine the fates of our age, the internet carries considerable gravity. The internet is democratic, egalitarian, promoting of knowledge and has a tendency to worship science over religion. In those ways, the internet exemplifies the rational principles of the Enlightenment. Yet in some violent arenas, the web can resemble the French Revolution.

In the awkward, third-person pedagogy of the social sciences, studies about the internet address us directly while also referring to us as insect specimens: ‘The average millennial spends several hours a day futzing around on the computer…” Our elders, ironically fumbling with their powerpoints, have lectured us on the influence of technology for our generation. The topic is so innate that speaking of the Internet has become a tiresome subject. The false intimacy, the exaggerated hostility, the forum populism — these social phenomenon of the web have all been noted. But there are things to be said of the infrastructure of this information superhighway.

Our information is formidable. Descending mainly from philosophy, branches of academic disciplines are increasingly advanced and separate. Like evolution, the lineage of human inquiry is an almost intuitive, but also profound, concept. It was much easier to be a Renaissance man when knowledge was more interrelated; today’s Thomas Jefferson would need five PhDs.

So the Internet, in providing accessible information, simplifies this complex content. Instead of a specific explanation of a subject or event — probably too technical for the common reader — we receive a vague retelling. A bias comes through this translation, as well as from our own interpretation of the resulting ambiguity.

These remarks are nothing noteworthy, especially given our cynical presumption of bias whenever possible. The web, however, can worsen our prejudices. We can find people, groups, entire networks of people who agree with us. Our favorite prescription for an impartial perspective is overcorrection — to be fair and balanced, grab a weight from each side. They would have us read the New York Times and the Wall Street Journal every morning. So typically we read neither.

In particular, one subject has had benefitted (or suffered) from the Internet. Philosophy, and its method of arguing, is at once the easiest and most difficult of activities. Hence philosophy fits exactly into the accessible-complex framework of knowledge and has had a renewed popularity online. Moreover, it is my superstition that Wikipedia was written entirely by philosophy majors. I have no evidence for this, but the concise clarity of the prose and amount of philosophical material on the site seem to support me.

Philosophy generally consists of intricate arguments resting on rudimentary questions. “Philosophers” says Isaiah Berlin, “are adults who persist in asking childish questions.” If someone carelessly removes the simple foundations, the entire metaphysical Jenga may collapse.

Apart from Socratic dialogues, I’ve never witnessed a genuinely successful debate (do such things exist?) but can imagine the spectacle. The participants would discuss a salient issue, referring to outside examples and their immense body of knowledge. A topic is unwinded until finally, the underlying principles are revealed. The match must end in stalemate, with opponents standing firmly for their own ideals and beliefs. Maybe there are compromises on tangible issues. Refreshments and mutual respect are served.

Online arguments are nothing like that. They are inherently dishonest, for each side has time to chisel their views and is always protected by the imminent option of Xing out. What more, the opening sparring session is removed — referencing knowledge is irrelevant when infinite knowledge is at your fingertip disposal. (Picture a poker or Pokémon match when both sides have all the cards.) Instead, we move straight to the heated finale, yelling our playground axioms: “You can’t have something from nothing!” or “People always do things in their self-interest!” There is no patience, nor purpose, in these matters.

Thus on the Internet you will find straw men of religion, hung up like a piñata for everyone to beat down. Echoing a Voltairean witticism, here’s a popular online quip: “Science flies you to the moon, religion flies you into buildings.” But no, no, says a modern Rousseau, this statement can be inversely understood.

The impersonal nature of the Internet can subdue moral agency, distancing ourselves from the consequences of our actions. We can be kind, helping out strangers in a polite medium; but there is also brutality and viciousness, the spite spewing from our keyboards, uploading without remorse.

These issues — simplification, anonymity — are no doubt universal. From the philosophy of the Internet we will soon click and drag ourselves into intense quarrels over the merits of capitalism, commercialization, and censorship. I Kant take much More.

Surely the internet is the next frontier of possibility; but sights on the web are often more distressing than exciting. The results are yet to be seen from this latest test in our ongoing experiment of democracy.

Aaron Eisen is a senior associate editor for The Cavalier Daily. He can be reached at a.eisen@cavalierdaily.com.