Goldsmith Johannes Gutenberg invented the movable-type printing press close to the town of Mainz in Germany in the middle of the Rheinhessen, which remains the largest wine-producing region of the country. This was not an accident – and if you compare a wine press to Gutenberg’s printing press, the similarities bounce out at you.

Wine presses crush grapes, but to do so, you need lots of downward force. Hence, wine presses for years predominantly used a double-threaded screw, which has the effect of increasing the leverage. Likewise, Gutenberg’s process of pressing paper onto the metal type below also used the double-threaded screw so it could be achieved with a single swing of the arm.

Gutenberg’s press borrowed from all kinds of inventions from around the world up to 1440, but the invention was so effective and efficient that it changed history.

A single press could produce 3,600 pages per workday and suddenly, information became increasingly available to progressively larger numbers of people.

The invention of the printing press was, when all was said and done, a massively democratising moment. The volume and detail of knowledge suddenly became cheaper, more immediate, more cumulative and more detailed.

We celebrate Gutenberg’s press today and the changes that it wrought.

The internet

But here is my question: the internet has also made knowledge cheaper, more immediate, more cumulative and more detailed. Why does it seem to be causing societal disintegration rather than doing what the Gutenberg press did: lead the way toward a more democratic world?

This is confusing, partly because the jury is still out on whether societal disintegration is truly happening and if it is, whether the internet is the cause. But what I don’t think is in doubt is that modern society has been hit by an enormous wave of information, and it seems unlikely that this alone would not have some social effect. Surely?

If you glance through history, it’s clear that the crucial inventions that changed communication did have some effect and that those effects could be contradictory. The most obvious is radio.

If you bought a radio circa the 1930s in many places in the world, notably Germany, it wouldn’t come with a dial. Dials, which you use to choose your station, were largely a post-war invention. The radio would come fixed on a certain bandwidth which allowed a very concentrated and uncontested information flow from the government.

Hence, radio will always be the communication invention associated with the rise of fascist and communist regimes, although, in different political contexts, it could play a different role.

Radio didn’t cause fascism, but it’s hard to say they didn’t work hand in hand, giving it a mouthpiece.

So what then has the internet wrought?

I don’t think this question is answerable yet, but it’s at least worth speculating about its effect.

One of the most interesting theorists in this sphere is Martin Gurri, an academic born in Cuba who emigrated with his family in the 1950s to America. He is also a former CIA media analyst.

Gurri writes a blog called “The Fifth Wave”; at root, his theory is that information expands in great waves and we are seeing a “cataclysmic” expansion of information and communication technologies.

Breakdown in trust

The result is that trust in government – and elites generally – is broadly disintegrating. If you asked Americans at the time of John F Kennedy whether they trusted the government, you would get about 70% approval. Now, government approval rates are seldom above 30%.

People often underestimate the sheer quantity of information out there, he points out. In one year, 2002, the total quantity of information produced equalled everything that had been produced before in history. In 2003, it doubled again. What is it now? Quite a lot more, I would guess.

But here is the controversial bit. Gurri argues that the result has been a general bleeding away of authority; the advent of a very angry public, and a public mired in negation.

In contrast to previous eras, the angry public seems to have no interest in actually taking over the government; there is no real ideological issue or debate. It’s simply rooted in negativity.

This commentary struck a chord reading today about former US president Donald Trump’s stroll to the Republican nomination. How is it possible that someone as loathsome, corrupt and generally awful as Trump – facing an enormous number of charges – could be ambling his way to the nomination?

Well, the Wall Street Journal interviewed a Trump supporter who answered this with a single retort: “He’s different because he’s not a politician,” she said. “They’re all crooked.”

If the internet is responsible in some strange way for this, it’s because, in the context of all possible information we could ever want, we tend to choose no information.

The pseudonymous doofus

With every conceivable fact at our fingertips, what do we do? We trust the pseudonymous doofus * next door.

I always follow the results of the Edelman Trust Barometer, which is now in its 24th year. It surveys 32,000 respondents in 28 countries. This year, there wasn’t much change; 60% of the respondents worldwide don’t trust the government, business or journalists – the same as last year.

When asked, “Who do you trust to tell the truth about new innovations and technologies”? A healthy 74% said scientists. Great.

But here’s the rub: the same proportion said they would trust “people like them”. The pseudonymous doofus rates precisely the same as the scientist. How very 2020s. DM

• Pseudonymous doofus: A hilarious description invented off the cuff by blogger Noah Smith in a podcast on the topic: Can a Nation Plunder Its Way to Wealth?