You are? Not to worry, I won't tell anyone you actually read this post.
Just to be clear, the shallow analysis is not mine, as I save my shallow analysis for music. The shallow analysis is found in this piece on the WalesOnline site, which has some of the usual: Benedict XVI is "enigmatic" (translation: "I haven't really studied his life or read any of his books"), he has been involved in "high-profile PR disasters" (translation: "He's politically incorrect"), and he just can't compare to John Paul II (translation: "Now that John Paul II is dead, it's convenient to pretend to have liked him"). The author even writes, apparently with a straight face: "Comparisons with his predecessor John Paul II can seem stark and tragic." Come to think of it, such comparisons can come off as starkly misleading and tragically wrong when attempted by people who don't know what they are talking about.
But the best—as in "best"—is yet to come:
Oh, great—now I have to somehow extract a mouthful of Pepsi from my keyboard. Okay, it is an "easy" comparison, if by "easy" you mean facile, flippant, and unconvincing. Yes, Williams is considered to be a fine writer and a knowledgeable theologian. But the comparison completely blows up when you consider why the two men are "regularly caught in media firestorms":
Benedict makes headlines because he says things that seem, to the media and others (secularists, The New York Times, The Los Angeles Times, Fr. Thomas Reese, Hans Küng, and Barbara Walters), to be exclusive, rigid, triumphalistic, medieval, backwards, insulting, narrow-minded, and dogmatic. In fact, he takes stands; he makes clear judgments; he is politically incorrect; he is Catholic, and he doesn't apologize for being so. He is a great theologian who is first a priest and a pastor, and who is able to state the difficult and demanding with a clarity that is both shocking and confounding to those who don't do difficult and don't desire demanding.
Williams makes headlines because he says things that seem, to many Anglicans and others (anyone paying attention), to be wishy-washy, indecisive, vague, politically expedient, confusing, muddy, and mushy. He is so nuanced that no one seems to know exactly where he stands on many essential issues, and he is in charge (I guess) of a Communion that is so fragmented and splintering one wonders if its sole source of "communion" is the fragile agreement to disagree on nearly everything, ranging from the nature of God to the nature of man to the nature of nature. He may be a theologian, but he appears to be more of a politician than anything else, and a rather politically-correct one at that, one who is unable to state much of anything clearly, and always with confusing difficulty.
So, yes, an easy comparison can be made. But that doesn't mean it's even close to being a good comparison, because good things rarely come easily, especially when it involves analysis of things papal.