1 Minute Read
1 Minute Read
Google Zero
The Verge had a fascinating article about what’s known as Google Zero. If you’re unsure how the world’s greatest business model operates (it is an advertising company), it’s built on a promise. Web content is created. Google crawls the web. And then this drives traffic back to the creators through search referrals, selling advertisements in the process. Sounds simple. But it’s a complicated game.
Owning my tiny niche, I’ve never wanted to play—choosing to write what I want, letting those find it on their own terms. This also prevents me from pedaling for clicks. But now and then, I have odd articles that drive significant traffic. Years back, I ran an experiment where I posted a short blurb daily called “Short Form.” One of these posts defined what’s known as the Sisyphus Effect. The work isn’t great. Quick and dirty but through the magic of search finds a certain viewership.
But what happens when Google builds an AI that scrapes the web, taking content through loose copyright interpretations, and chooses to answer the question? Within certain regions, Google is in test mode, providing the AI-generated answer instead of the referral. Sure, one can click on the traditional search, but the default is an AI overload. These settings are meaningful. For another example, an iPhone user can choose another search engine instead of Google. But they rarely do, according to recent litigation.
Regarding traffic, my good friend Sisyphus has had its ups and downs, probably aligning with the school year. Still, if Google answers for you? Why even come see me at all? And what does this mean for newspapers that rely on said traffic to keep their business model afloat? Why even write anymore if the incentive model changes?
I have my own answer for that—just write. But not everyone will. What type of world will we live in when Google, OpenAI, and Microsoft answer everything for you? Certain zero-day exploits are worth pondering. I have no definitive answer, but a certain guy rolling a boulder up a hill might. It just might take months, perhaps years, before we know for sure.