In a summer full of invigorating sightseeing, long books, and copious free time, I have developed a new interest: online reviews.
Yes, I understand that I could pursue a more productive ‘thought hobby’. For example, I could research a war or reading about astrophysics.
But two things I have been doing a lot this year are traveling and writing (see reminder post here). Both place huge importance in the online review culture.
And I find the nonsense of it all compellingly attractive.
In our society you can online review anything, from the complete works of William Shakespeare (3.8 stars) to a t-shirt with three wolves howling at the moon (4.4 stars). John Green has actually created an entire podcast devoted to star-scaled evaluation of everything from Disneyland to Tetris.
It’s called The Anthropocene Reviewed and, spoiler alert, its amazing.
But it fails to answer the basic question that captivates me when I consider what I think of as ‘the social internet’:
What is the point of this?
Some people clearly think the point is to be funny. Those reviews are…well, funny. (see below)
Some people seem to think the point is to let out their pent-up frustrations about political disagreements, subpar avocado toast and a variety of other topics that do not seem well-directed towards this channel of communication. Those reviews are sad. And angry. And also sort-of funny, in a different way. (again, see below)
One star Yelp review of Pinnacles National Park (Source: Mother Jones)
Some people use online reviews to be polite. I fall squarely into this category. I would never leave a review with less than four stars. Also, I use enough exclamation points to punctuate an entire pre-teen texting thread. Those reviews are courteous. And boring.
Some people (I would say a decided minority) do seem to use the reviews to convey helpful information and opinions about a given product. (In my experience, this happens most often with running shoes. And probably also if there is some kind of choking hazard for a small child?)
But even if someone is trying to be helpful–
How do we conglomerate our collective human experience into a five star scale?
Yes, if your baby’s chew toy burst into flames or you felt unsafe in your hotel, that is universally helpful information.
But generally, the things I enjoy (running long distances, climbing slowly up mountains, sitting quietly in late afternoon heat waiting for some slimy fish to come along) are definitely things that would cause other people to run screaming the opposite direction. And vice versa.
The teacher in me is frantic for a rubric right now. But as mentioned above, I’m on sabbatical. So instead…picture of a five star catfish below.
