This is an article I wrote for an on-line magazine that was interested in the uproar that was sparked in October by Epinions' taking away our control over our writing. At least the magazine was interested until Epinions calmed things down by restoring the "edit/delete" feature. I'm pleased that Epinions finally acknowledged and corrected its mistake, but couldn't they have waited until after this was published?


CONTROL DELETED
by eplovejoy

When they took the caramel color out of a popular cola, I couldn't have cared less. When some other "they" decided to make a junk movie love story out of the start of U.S. involvement in World War II, I trusted history could fend for itself. And when they call me during dinner with promises of cheaper long distance, I give them a polite "No, thank you" and then not another thought.

So it takes a lot for a company to do something that angers me. But when a Web site I'd trusted took away my ability to control what I posted there, I joined a mob that would have dumped tea in the company headquarters. At least we would have if they weren't all the way over there in California.

Epinions.com is a site on which readers can find reviews of such varied products as books, beer and babystrollers. The advice is written, the company boasts, by ordinary people just like you and me. Pay on the site is quite low and so most writers spend time there as a hobby. It's a place to get some things off your chest, work on becoming a better writer and hang out with people who have become "friends" in the sense that word applies to people you haven't met offline.

In September dozens of members of the Epinions community (there honestly is one) posted tributes to an Epinions member whose cancer took his life shortly after the testimonials appeared. Later that month, many wrote movie reviews to put a spotlight on a Sept. 25 event in which theaters throughout the United States donated their earnings that day to relief efforts related to the Sept. 11 terrorist attacks.

But in October, rebellion replaced compassion. Many of those people whom Epinions says are like you and me were comparing themselves to agitators from Spartacus to Gandhi. Some were even suggesting that the company sexually exploits dogs. I'm pretty sure those suggestions were facetious. But the anger that motivated them was no joke.

It started on the 24th, when the company announced that it had taken away the abilities of contributors to edit or delete the reviews they'd posted already. Epinions didn't say, "Hey, we're going to do this." It was, "Hey, we did this." To many of us, it didn't seem fair. And since the site exists to encourage the expression of opinions, we expressed ours.

Some writers cordially requested that the "edit/delete" button be restored. Some refused to write again until it was, and they posted an "On Strike" graphic on their Epinions profile pages. Others used a more stark graphic of a Jolly Roger to suggest that the people who run Epinions are pirates. One veteran writer compared the experience of writing on Epinions in the wake of the "edit/delete" button deletion to having a successful date with an attractive man who, once things seemed headed towards a mutually satisfying physical encounter, demands you soak yourself in ice water and then play dead while he completes his part of the exchange.

The uproar took Epinions by surprise, as Epinions CEO Nirav Tolia acknowledged in a letter he posted on the site on Oct. 29. After six tumultuous days, the company restored the abilities of its contributors to control the content of their reviews, and apologized for what he said was the company's lack of trust in the people who write for it. Addressing "Dear Valued Members of Epinions," the head of Epinions added, "However, we strive to be a company that is rational, not emotional; an organization that listens to constructive feedback, re-evaluates its actions, and most importantly admits and corrects errors."

Well, gosh, if they'd said that to begin with I wouldn't have believed the chorus that suggested dogs had reason to be nervous around Epinions. And I'd never have laughed at the suggestion the company is unusually fond of people who play dead.

I've re-evaluated my actions and corrected my errors. It seems that now, Epinions might know a little about what that's like.