BOT REVIEWS
They walk among us. No, no- I know what you’re thinking: “Didn’t you already start a blog with almost those exact words?” And the answer is Yes, of course I did, about Mystery Shoppers. Go check it out if you haven’t already.
But I’m not talking about mystery shoppers today.
Mystery shoppers are out there in the aisles with us, loading up digital shopping carts and burning down ten minute timers with us. And secret diners are out there with us, too, whether they’re dining in or carrying out.
Bots aren’t doing any of that. But they are hanging out in our review sections. And they are muddying the waters. Even if a restaurant isn’t buying them, even if a human user is able to identify them, they’re just getting in the way.
Think I’m being a bit dramatic? Let’s take a look at a local townie bar: Twisted Rose in Algonquin, IL.
Now, these two reviews just so happened to be one after the other, with Google’s default sorting method set.
Obviously the words are what we read reviews for, but before we even get to the words, let me call your attention to a few key points:
· Two profiles of two white men
· Each man rated five stars
· Each man left their review 10 months ago
· Each man has just under 100 reviews and is a Local Guide
· And getting to the words (but not their meaning), each man writes five to six sentences
Now let’s take a quick peek at E Whitney’s review, in case you haven’t already. He goes to the Twisted Rose for the “good air that characterizes” the restaurant. Sure, maybe E had his middle school essay used as a class example and has been flexing on it ever since. But it sounds a little awkward to me, a human.
Troy is a bit more of a smooth operator, but his use of “place/this place” is a little excessive, and this is probably the first time I’ve ever heard of someone being “profoundly satisfied.” I think I found a new goal in life… And to find profound satisfaction, I need to expose these boys for what they truly are. Cold, calculating, review section terminators.
Luckily, it’s as simple as clicking their names to see a few more reviews these two… gents, have left.
Starting with E Whitney, something interesting pops up pretty quickly:
What’s the big deal, right? It’s just another five star review of – let’ see – four sentences. And this one has typos! And also the double spaces and an exactly identical last sentence to Troy’s Twisted Rose review. Coincidence, obviously.
But this sounds even more like Troy:
Some sort of best in the region? Check. Awkward use of an adverb? Check. High level service and topmost level of cooking? Double check. And Warmly recommended. Check please.
How about just some E Whit v. E Whit:
Or if you’re hungry, here’s another helping of this:
It comes warmly recommended.
I don’t think I need to do it to prove my point, but I’ll take a quick look at Troy White’s reviews, just so we can say we’ve done our due diligence.
Sure, maybe this is a lazy reviewer, just falling back into their old, trusty phrases, like:
Maybe English isn’t their first language. That would explain some of the awkward phrasing and all that. So TROY WHITE (see image of very white man with very WHITE name above) isn’t a native English speaker? Or maybe he’s a little slow? Well I think he’d have something to say about that.
It must have been quite the time in Troy’s life 8 months ago. A nomination in New Jersey, a graduation in Ohio. Stop the presses, though, because things were even better 11 months ago (and beyond!):
But fear not, Troy isn’t some hyper-educated elite, speaking so loftily that we can hardly understand him. Troy likes the simple things. Troy likes a roomy McDonald’s:
Troy likes Panda Express too, and their air!
All right, I think the point has been made that Troy White and E Whitney, two fake white men, with two fake white names, are guilty of creating about 200 fake reviews. What seems like a strange game of Mad-libs dictates whether they “adore the air” or “greatly enjoy the service.”
I’ll be honest, it’s all worse than the poem generator I made in college, when I only plugged in about 100 different words for the program to draw from.
But, here’s the problem… It’s not as easy for everyone to point and laugh at it. We all have to take those computer security courses and watch those silly videos about not clicking suspicious links for a reason. Not everyone is super savvy when it comes to this stuff. Or not everyone is as incredulous, jaded, and cynical as your average everyday Millennial.
Case in point:
You could say that’s harmless, right? If maybe a little sad? The owner doesn’t know they’re talking to a robot. It’s silly, but not damaging, the bot didn’t say anything bad. BUT, the owner is still taking time out of their day (or their young employee’s day) to respond to this. They are paying someone to make a connection to a robot who will not come back again, will not recommend the place, and won’t spend any money.
Of course, we have to ask, the cynical, shrewd Millennials that we are (and the rest of you very smart and discerning people out there)… Did this business owner pay for this review?
It is entirely possible.
These reviews are display cakes and sweets, veneered, glossy, but just a little bit off. Is that going to stop anyone from actually eating at the restaurant, or using the gutter cleaners or car technician? Maybe not. We can look past the shiny fake frosting and know the real deal when we see it. So maybe these aren’t totally harmful.
Then again, all we looked at today was two robo-boys leaving five star reviews in their wake. We didn’t talk about the downside at all.
One is that, if these businesses are paying these bots, what does that mean for their competition who isn’t. Maybe they don’t need it, but maybe it makes enough difference to hurt.
And speaking of hurt, what happens when the reviews being left are glowing and profoundly satisfying? What happens when they are mean, bad, or downright scandalous? Those could be bought, too, another plot to foil your competition.
But we’re out of time for today. Just remember, if you can’t identify three pictures of stoplights, if you can’t identify a string of five characters in a squiggly, blobby image, and if you are deeply impressed with this place… you might be a robot.