These days, everything has a price. And a rating that ostensibly reflects its value. A higher rating indicates higher value and promises better sales. Herein already lies a predicament. If higher ratings pay dividends, what exactly is protecting the purity and genuineness of a product’s rating? This question, as valid as it is, shall be a side note only, though. At the core of this crisis is not the fact that ratings can, and always will be manipulated. It is that human nature and how vital things such as quality and satisfaction are perceived and conceived far exceed the rather limiting frame of metrics.
Most items, services or products are rated from 1 to 5, with 1, not 0, indicating a bad product, and 5 suggesting it is the greatest concoction ever conceived by man. A rating above 4 gives creditability to a product, catering to the justifiable doubts surrounding ratings that feel just too good to be true: 4.5 and above. A rating below 4 signifies a piece of garbage, best avoided like a disease, not good for anything. In this framework, it is merely the 0.1 increments that truly distinguish products that are eligible for consumption, since anything under 4 is fundamentally inacceptable.
But what if this rating system is changed? Have you ever read a film review by Roger Ebert, noticing it goes from 1 to 4 stars wondering why anyone would deviate from the proven 1 to 5 concept? This is not an act of chaos and intellectual violence, far from it. It actually acknowledges the truth that making films is hard. A terribly crafted film with plot holes that is somewhat enjoyable will now score 2 out of 4 instead of 2 out of 5. It is closer to the 4 out of 4 masterpiece. But instead of eroding the legacy of great movies, we receive a scale far more suitable to comparing films. Not solely because making films is hard, but rather because we can now acknowledge a film can be perfect in every regard is still not that far up from an average, yet enjoyable film that will score 2 by any means but fun to watch. Maybe we’ll watch it more often without changing our minds on the scoring. Another predicament. What if A is better but B feels better?
If the post-postmodern world has taught us anything, it is to consume goods and services because we can without really questioning their value. Anyone can make a sandwich in less ten minutes but we’re rather ordering for delivery, ultimately paying an absurd amount of money for something we could easily do ourselves. To some, paying for services feels better than doing things themselves. But once you’ve learned how to make your own sandwiches, here comes infinite joy and freedom, both financially and psychologically. Would you rate your homemade sandwich between 1 and 10? Probably not. You don’t compare it. You just enjoy its perks and move on. It ultimately feels better because it saved you time and money. That it gave you sense of accomplishment that can hardly be had from consuming is another bonus.
We need a ballpark at a glance. Fiesta? 3.79 and 486,838 ratings. Despite receiving raving reviews when it came out, hailed an instant classic and an epitome of American modernism, the novel doesn’t seem to impress all that much in our times.
When Ernest Hemingway’s debut novel Fiesta came out in 1926, books weren’t rated in the same way they’re rated and categorized today. Critics wrote for newspapers and magazines, and readers discussed literature in literary circles, in universities, at cafés or at home. A book wasn’t rated per se but discussed in depth, and often in a dialogue going back and forth. It is unlikely anyone closed by saying: I rate this 4.3 out of 7. In a dialogue, you learn from one another. But these days, the dialogue has been replaced by social media, product pages and so-called literary platforms like Goodreads. We need a ballpark at a glance. Fiesta? 3.79 and 486,838 ratings. Despite receiving raving reviews when it came out, hailed an instant classic and an epitome of American modernism, the novel doesn’t seem to impress all that much in our times. By comparison, The Maze Runner #1 by James Dashner scores an impressive 4.05 on a staggering 1,652,532 ratings. A book that wasn’t hailed by any critic or academic, least called a groundbreaking moment in literary history. Here’s the kicker: The Maze Runner isn’t better than Fiesta. And Fiesta isn’t better than The Maze Runner. Out of context, these ratings mean little, if anything at all.
A rating will never tell you if a book is really good, simply because you are you and not anyone else. The quality and value of a book, or any other product for the most part, come from the expectations and experiences of the consumer. Most millennials will hate Hemingway’s books. First, they were taught to hate them for their boasting expressions of toxic masculinity. Second, judging from their experience, should they decide to actually read the book, they will most likely discover their prejudice conformed. They’ll probably miss the subtext oozing with self-doubt, self-deprecation and hints of trauma from impotence. Or do they? After all, subtext is determined by whoever is interpreting it, clearly a variable the author may encourage but barely has any control over.
These principles apply not only to books, music or film. A product rated poorly might as well just be what you want, not what the rest of the world wants. If a car is too complicated for you and no joy to drive because you don’t feel the road, then maybe it’s not the best fit for you. It is therefore advisable not to give too much credit to ratings. Just buy that book because you’re interested in it. Or that Switchbot robot vacuum people are giving a scolding for glitches you couldn’t be bothered with. It doesn’t pay to always compare. Not in products. And certainly not in life. This is something we’ve learned from e-commerce and social media. It can be unlearned but it’s tough. But it’s also a step in the right direction of individuality and freedom of thought. Of course it is impossible to unsee ratings of products. It isn’t necessary to begin with. We should start with film and book reviews that aren’t reliant on a 1 to 5 star rating system to make a point.
