According to the great English lexicographer Samuel Johnson, knowledge is of two kinds. We know a subject ourselves or we know where we can find information upon it (Boswell life vol.2 p383 18 April 1775). In the information-driven world we now inhabit, the latter has assumed a much greater level of importance. At the time of the European Renaissance, which spanned the fourteenth, fifteenth and sixteenth centuries, it was considered possible for the educated, well-read man. The so –called Renaissance man, to possess the sum total of human knowledge. Admittedly, the body of knowledge then available was restricted, being held firmly in check by several important factors: the paucity of books in circulation at that time; the difficulty of acquiring copies of the texts; the need to copy texts; the need to copy texts by hand ; and the cost of doing so. The example of Lupus of ferrieres search for the art rhetorica of Fortunatus in the ninth century was repeated again and again throughout the Latin West until the momentous advent of printing in the middle of the fifteenth century. Printed books saw the end of some of the practical limitations placed on the spread of human knowledge. The first revolution in information technology had begun. Renaissance man was rapidly left behind by this development; and henceforth, it would be increasingly difficult for the educated man to cope with the expansion to knowledge that flowed through Europe via the medium of movable type. In today’s world, the scenario could hardly be more different. The most well-read individual, whom we could legitimately call information man or homo sciens, would certainly be considerably  more knowledge over the latter half of the last millennium and the changes in the world of technology, easy access to information has reduced the stature of the educated individual. All that he can hope to be now is an expert in a narrow field, not the all-knowing polymath of yesteryear.   It is not surprising to see people overwhelmed by unlimited stream of information. There is simply too much of it to assimilate and it is difficult to know what to do with the data once it is received; which brings us back to Johnson’s word. But we need to add another dimension to his dictum, one which was probably true in his time, but is even more pertinent today; people need to be able to use the knowledge they acquire and not just know it or know where to find it. Our deficiency in this regard is perhaps, the most singular failure of the modern information age.   Acquisitiveness is a natural human instinct. Children collect cards of footballers or whatever is the latest fad. Stamps, coins and books are targets for children and adults collectors alike, as their basic instincts are played upon and nurtured by market forces. The desire to gather knowledge is nothing new. What is astonishing, however, is the way in which people treat the knowledge once it has been collected. It is as if the collection were an end in itself; and herein lies the great deception. We have turned the word into a large machine of information, a veritable vertex into which we are all being inexorably sucked. People beaver away amassing raw data, labouring under the misapprehension that they are doing something worthwhile, when all that is really happening is the movement of information from one place to another. We should hardly be surprised that, as this becomes apparent, disillusionment and stress in the workplace are becoming sadly the all too common consequences.   The world is not really the richer for having the current wealth of knowledge at its fingertips. It is like standing amongst the wealth of the British Library, the Bibliotheque Nationale in Paris or other great libraries and not being able to read.   So what is to be done? Training is collecting and processing relevant information, followed by learning to collate, analyse and select or discard is the obvious solution. But there is such a dearth of people who know what to do that one remains pessimistic.