Great expose. Why hasn't this received more publicity?

http://thefastertimes.com/news/2011/06/16/aol-hell-an-aol-content-slave-speaks-out/
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Some people struggle to write for their whole lives, and only dream of
ever getting paid for it. And here was I was, Mr.
Big-Shot-Razor-Blade-Man, getting paid a real salary. I could sit at
home and write in my pajamas while eating take-out food; and that’s
what I did. I was so grateful.

But this was part of the problem. We — by which I mean me and my
fellow employees — were all so grateful. Which allowed us to ignore —
or willfully overlook — certain problems. Such as the fact that AOL
editors forced us to work relentless hours. Or the fact that we were
paid to lie, actually instructed to lie by our bosses.

I was given eight to ten article assignments a night, writing about
television shows that I had never seen before. AOL would send me short
video clips, ranging from one-to-two minutes in length — clips from
“Law & Order,” “Family Guy,” “Dancing With the Stars,” the Grammys,
and so on and so forth… My job was then to write about them. But
really, my job was to lie. My job was to write about random,
out-of-context video clips, while pretending to the reader that I had
watched the actual show in question. AOL knew I hadn’t watched the
show. The rate at which they would send me clips and then expect
articles about them made it impossible to watch all the shows — or to
watch any of them, really.

That alone was unethical. But what happened next was painful. My
“ideal” turn-around time to produce a column started at thirty-five
minutes, then was gradually reduced to half an hour, then twenty-five
minutes. Twenty-five minutes to research and write about a show I had
never seen — and this twenty-five minute period  included time for
formatting the article in the AOL blogging system, and choosing and
editing a photograph for the article. Errors were inevitably the
result.  But errors didn’t matter; or rather, they didn’t matter for
my bosses.

I had panic attacks; we all did. My fellow writers would fall asleep,
and then wake up in cold sweats. I worked the graveyard shift — 11PM
to 7 or 8AM or later — but even the AOL slaves who wrote during the
day would report the same universal experience.  Finally falling
asleep after work, they would awake with a jump, certain that they had
forgotten something — certain that they hadn’t produced their allotted
number of articles every thirty minutes. One night, I awoke out of a
dead sleep, and jumped to my computer, and instantly began typing up
an article about David Letterman. I kept going for ten minutes, until
I realized I had dreamed it all. There was no article to write; I was
simply typing up the same meaningless phrases that we all always used:
“LADY GAGA PANTLESS ON LATE NIGHT WITH DAVID LETTERMAN,” or some such.

Then there was the week where I only slept for about six hours over
the course of five days — a week that ended with me being so exhausted
that I started having auditory hallucinations, constantly hearing a
distant ringing phone that didn’t exist, or an imaginary door slamming
in the background.

At the time this all seemed mysterious. AOL is a billion dollar
corporation, and the foundation of its current business model is
words. So you would think that AOL might care about the people who
write these words. Or, at the very least, that they might care about
the words themselves.

But now, I am not so mystified. With the recent release of a
top-secret business document from AOL, things have been clarified.
“The AOL Way,” as the document is called, lays the whole plan bare —
long flowcharts, an insane number of meaningless buzzwords… the works.
One slide is titled “Decide What Topics to Cover.” It then lists
“Considerations” from top to bottom. “Traffic Potential” is the top
consideration, followed by “Revenue/Profit” and then “Turnaround
Time.” “Editorial Integrity” is at the bottom.

Specifically, “The AOL Way,” is to massively increase writing
production, while at the same time cutting costs. The document reveals
the same attitude that the bosses at the old Ford Motors factory had,
when the assembly line was first introduced. Every week or so, the
assembly-line was sped up; incrementally, barely noticeably, but the
increase had a staggering, cumulative effect, and soon, those workers
who couldn’t keep up found themselves standing by the wayside. If AOL
could find a good way for machines to write about Lady Gaga, they
would almost certainly fire the writers who remain.

When it comes to an article, what AOL cares about is the title, and
the “keywords” that will make the article more likely to show up among
the top results on Google. You type phrases into “Google Trends,” and
it suggests the most popular combination of words associated with that
topic.  You then stick those words into your title and first
paragraphs. Rinse, wash, and repeat. The article itself was just
ballast.

“LADY GAGA PANTLESS IN PARIS” is the example given in “The AOL Way”
internal documents.  That’s the best possible title. A buzz-worthy
topic, a sexy result. It mattered little if Lady Gaga was actually
pantless in Paris; it only had to relate somehow to the article as a
whole. The entire title could be a come-on, a tease. It might well
turn out that Lady Gaga was neither pantless, nor in Paris at the
time. The important part was that the reader would click on those
words to read the rest, thereby producing ad revenue for the websites.
Words didn’t matter; stealing other people’s work also didn’t matter.

I still have a saved IM conversation with my boss, written after 10
months of employment, when I was reaching the breaking point:

“Do you guys even CARE what I write? Does it make any difference if
it’s good or bad?” I said.

“Not really,” was the reply.
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