My Rock Bottom with Star Ratings
An Unrated Tale of Rating Addiction
I don’t know how it got as far as it did. It was just a little bit when I started — a review here, a star rating there — something to get me through that next product purchase or dinner with friends. At some point in time, it all got away from me and I couldn’t control it anymore. Before I knew it, my life had turned into one big rating system, an algorithmic odyssey driven by the desires of unknown reviewers across the globe.
Whenever the topic of dinner came up, whenever I saw a new product in a store window or a new movie or television series was released, I’d search for a rating. When I had to switch primary care physicians, I didn’t ask a friend or family for a recommendation. I pulled out my phone to search for ratings.
It got so bad, that I’d find myself in some exotic location unable to enjoy the beauty — eyes and nose buried in my phone, trying to find the highest-rated restaurant or spa or tourist attraction. If I couldn’t find anything with a decent rating, I’d declare a town to be shit. I’d then fall into a depressed heap, announcing there was nothing to do or be had in this place.
It started with 3 stars. Right in the middle (because 2 wasn’t enough). But it wasn’t long before 3 stars wouldn’t do it either. I needed more. This was back…
