If Hart's story shows what's possible when business owners embrace Yelp, it also helps explain why some yearn for a world in which a single mishap might go unnoticed and in which a business's employees don't have to live in terror of customers' comments. Though the Yelp users I met in the course of reporting this story seemed well intentioned enough -- some were amateur writers who enjoyed the creative process of composing a review; others used the site to find like-minded friends -- it's impossible to write a negative Yelp review without experiencing the thrill of righteous indignation. One Yelp Elite member in San Francisco, a man who has written more than 100 Yelp reviews, told me, "I write reviews to screw over businesses I don't like."
This makes sense, when you think about it. American society has, for more than a century, been defined by corporate power, and the Internet has upset that balance, mostly for the good. When someone sends a Twitter message about his baggage being lost by a large, publicly traded airline -- "Delta sucks!" -- it's hard to argue that this is a bad thing. Delta does suck in that instance. And Delta can take it.
But Yelp encourages people to be unsparing in their critiques of companies that can't take it -- companies that are small, independent, and not particularly profitable. The site capitalizes on our impulses to take down the Man, but, in doing so, turns us against mom-and-pop businesses -- already hit by globalization, consolidation, and a recession. At its best, Yelp is meritocratic, helping good businesses like Lauren Hart's to thrive. At its worst, Yelp empowers people who do not need to be empowered at the expense of those who are already struggling. There's a lot of insanity in Diane Goodman's story, but there's also this truth: Review sites can be unbelievably cruel.
On some level, Stoppelman seems to know this. In 2008, the company gave business owners the ability to respond privately to reviews. Last year, Yelp allowed businesses to publicly confront their critics. "The main thing we've done is try to do a better job reaching out to the local business community," says Stoppelman, who regards entrepreneurs' anger as a source of great disappointment. "The most frustrating thing is talking to owners who say, 'Yelp has been great,' and then they think for a minute and remember the one negative review. I understand that people want to be heard, but you're meeting the Yelp founder, and all you want to talk about is a single review that doesn't even matter in the grand scheme of things. I don't understand that."
There's arrogance in this remark, but Stoppelman's suggestion that business owners simply move past their bad reviews has merit. Yelp is not your friend; it's your critic. And if it became your friend -- by, say, censoring angry reviews -- customers would probably abandon it for a site that allowed them to more fully express themselves. Or they could just post an angry blog, tweet, or Facebook message. Questions about whether Yelp is good or bad are academic.
"I don't like Yelp, but I realize I can't do anything about it," Diane Goodman says near the end of our conversation. She tells me that though she doesn't regret going to Clare's house, she does understand why he might have felt threatened. "I'm sorry I wrote those mean things," she says. "If I read those e-mails, I'd probably think I was crazy, too."
Goodman's case may be extreme, but business owners all over the country are struggling with this new order. "I sometimes wish these people who tee off on you would have to divulge where they worked so I could criticize them," says Julian Wright, the owner of La Bocca, a restaurant in Tempe, Arizona. "But the reviews help us get better faster." Brad Keeling, the owner of a chain of dry cleaners, says Yelp reviews are to be heeded. "It's the public's opinion, and I don't mind hearing it," says Keeling. When someone criticizes him, he defends himself or simply apologizes. In several cases, he has been able to get customers to remove or at least revise their bad reviews. He estimates that 10 percent of new customers find him on Yelp. "Ignoring Yelp gets you nothing," he says. "You can't hate the future."
Of course, it's easy to see why so many business owners, faced with millions of Yelpers, each capable of ruining or at least damaging a business, choose to look on the bright side. Jane Reddin, who owns a crafts store in Phoenix, complains to me for 10 minutes straight about Yelp, assailing the company's business model, its arrogant salespeople, and the stupidity of the average Yelp reviewer. "They don't know what they're talking about," she says. "It's as if they're complaining that the gazpacho is cold."
So, I ask, you're not the biggest fan of Yelp?
She protests. "That's not what I'm saying at all," she says. "I adore the community aspect of Yelp." She thinks the Yelpers are an asset to the Phoenix business community. She is a happy user of Yelp and has written 38 reviews, most recently giving five stars to Oliver & Annie, a pet store.
Reddin pauses for a second, puts a hand on my shoulder, and smiles.
"Can you imagine if I said something negative in a national magazine about Yelp," she says. "What would happen to my reviews?"
Max Chafkin is Inc.'s senior writer.
