Full disclosure: We’re getting a suitcase full of money to write this blogpost.

We got an email today from TLA, whose somewhat questionable manipulation of Googlejuice for advertising purposes helps pay our hosting bills. Their new service, ReviewMe, just recently launched, and it’s got us as conflicted as a furry at a petting zoo.

My, My, My Payola

Here’s how it works: Advertisers pay you, and you write about their product or service. Maybe they’re trying to buy buzz and positive PR. Given that you’re entirely free to write a few hundred words ripping the product or service asunder, it’s more likely that the aim is gaming Google into inflating your PageRank. It’s a little skeezy.

Payment is split fiddy-fiddy between the blogger and ReviewMe, and payout depends on matters such as Alexa rank, Technorati inbound links and Bloglines subscribers.

The First Rule of Flack Club: You’ve Gotta Talk About Flack Club.

ReviewMe’s not the first company to offer payola to the blogosphere. They’re preceded in this market by PayPerPost and Blogsvertise, who beseech their bloggers to keep the payment arrangement nice and quiet. That’s a lot skeezy.

But what ReviewMe requires is disclosure: If you’re getting skrilla for the post (like we are here; imagine that!), you’ve got to tell your readers so. In other words, you can’t pull a Stereogum and get a free junket to check out the Microsoft Zune and then, uh, ‘forget’ to mention that Gates et al. were paying the bill.

No Bad Reviews, But A Lot of Boring Ones

Though ReviewMe places no editorial constraints on bloggers (you’re free to give a negative or even scathing review), it got us to wondering: How honest will the reviews be when bloggers know that they’re singing for their supper? In ReviewMe’s FAQ, they write to advertisers: “We do not allow advertisers to require a positive review. The vast majority of reviews are measuredly positive, although many do contain constructive criticism.”

We decided to see whether this description held. We examined the first ten English-language blogs in Technorati’s search results that had a paid ReviewMe review (1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10). These first crop of reviews range from mild and gently-worded constructive criticism to salivating promotion. So, yeah: unsurprisingly, paid bloggers don’t bite the hand that feeds.

But more noticeable was the fact that several reviews were less interesting than the rest of the blogs’ content. No wonder: Blogs are about communicating one’s interests, passions and authentic thoughts. When you’re being paid to write, it has the potential to dull your interest.

Which brings us to our final point:

Is It Worth It?

When you started blogging, why’d you do it? More likely than not, it was for expression, for catharsis, for advocacy, for community. Unless you run a spamblog, you likely didn’t start writing for the money. So why start now? Only a few hundred words in, we’re already feeling the ennui of writing about something we don’t care all that much about.

See, normal public relations requires that a product or service or rock group or whatever else capture your interest: PR pitchmen needed to make it interesting, to give you something that fires you up enough to invest your afternoon crafting a blogpost.

With ReviewMe, they’re trying to substitute cash for an interesting hook. Their value proposition, rephrased, is that they’ll pay you to write about things you wouldn’t care to if there weren’t a payout involved.
And ultimately, we’re not convinced that substitution works.

Conclusion

We already have a job; we don’t need to turn our blog into one. Blogging for cash, as we did in this little experiment, takes the joy out of blogging.