Wireless Routers, Lemons, 
      and Bad Opinions
      by
      Ross M. Miller
      Miller Risk Advisors
      www.millerrisk.com
      October 9, 2006
      I got on the wireless Internet bandwagon early and
        suffered the slings and arrows of early adoption. I got my wireless
        network working with minimally adequate throughput and still have a
        nearly full head of hair. My first router was one of those big blue,
        ugly Linksys models—strictly 802.11b (the slow version) because they
        were still getting the kinks out of 802.11a and 802.11g was still on the
        drawing board. My wireless PCMCIA card was the top-of-the-line gold card
        from Orinoco (sail
        away, wireless network, sail away). The recent parade of laptop
        computers with built-in 802.11g wireless capability into my home led me
        to conclude that it was time for a new wireless router.
        On and off over the past six months I had perused the
        various wireless router reviews. Such devices are complicated to begin
        with and are made all the more complicated by the slow dribbling out of
        preliminary versions of the new 802.11n standard. Furthermore, all the
        reviews are contradictory. One guy can get a solid signal through three
        solid brick walls while another has trouble going through a single
        wooden floor. Your mileage may vary, indeed.
        I recently found myself in the Cambridge,
        Massachusetts Micro Center store (whenever I am within twenty miles of
        it, I find its gravitational pull irresistible) and was gazing at the
        merchandise. (Salespeople who approach me asking what I am looking for
        come to regret doing so. On any given day, I could end up buying
        virtually anything in the store, or nothing at all. Only rarely am I in
        a computer store looking to buy a specific item.) I was staring at the
        Netgear RangeMax routers, the relatively pricey Godzilla of wireless
        routers, when beneath them I saw a row of plain brown cardboard boxes
        that contained refurbished Netgear
        WGT624, the GEICO gecko of wireless routers.
        The WGT624 is a small, cute thing with a single
        external antenna. On looks alone it beats not only my old Linksys
        router, but all of its equally ugly updated versions, hands down. I
        commandeered one of Micro Center's computers with an active Internet
        connection and did some quick follow-up research. (The salesman to whom
        this machine belonged kicked me off it when he realized what I was
        doing.) This router not only does 802.11g, but the double-speed
        "Super" version of that protocol, not that any of my machines
        speak that language.
        The router was a mere $39.99 and I figured that I
        could always do something with it, so I bought it, took it home, and it
        has been working for almost a month without a problem. In combination
        with the various laptop computers it is great, in combination with the
        classic Orinoco card, it handily beats the flaky connection that I got
        with the old Linksys.
        The Netgear WGT624 is a fascinating item. The reviews
        of it on Amazon.com and newegg.com are clustered at the two extremes—people either hate it or love it. Those who hate it fall into
        two camps. In the first camp are users who appear unable to get it
        working satisfactorily in the first place. In the second camp are users
        for whom it worked initially and then entered into a variety of failure
        modes, many of which are related to the router's alleged overheating.
        (The updated version of the router that I got supposedly has extra air
        holes to keep it cool.)
        Those who love the WGT624 also fall into two camps. In
        the first camp are users who got lucky, plugged it in, and it just
        worked and has been working ever since. In the second camp are IT
        professionals who actively hunt this router out and buy vast quantities
        of refurbished or otherwise discounted units to install at their
        company's or client's sites. The WGT624 has a reasonable firewall built
        into it and several other "neat" features that give it some
        tech appeal. Its main negative is that it is not as "hackable"
        as the equivalent router from Linksys, which is a direct descendant of
        my old blue monstrosity.
        Now, a new WGT624 lists for $79.99, but is generally
        available from discount retailers for $59.99. So, unless one catches the
        occasional "fire sale" for the refurbished model, one only
        saves $20 relative to a virginal one. (Netgear rebates are attached to
        the retailers, not the units, so at a retailer who offers the rebate
        deal, the new router goes for $49.99 and the refurbished one for
        $29.99.) Despite the profusion of MIT types throughout the store (and
        me, the barely distinguishable hybrid Caltech/Harvard type), Micro
        Center is reasonably classy place that does not carry much in the way of
        refurbished goods. So, what makes the Netgear WGT624 so special?
        This is where lemons come in. In general, refurbished
        items are goods that have either been returned by the initial buyer
        during the store's return period or have been sent in for repair. For a
        typical product, this makes them "damaged goods." In the case
        of automobiles, new cars that show up on the used market too soon after
        they are purchased are marked as "lemons." In some cases, the
        value of a car can drop 30% the moment that its first buyer drives it
        off the lot. The major exceptions are specialty cars that are in scarce
        supply. They are frequently bought to be "flipped." Also, some
        cars have such stellar reputations that true lemons are rare.
        The WGT624 router fits into neither of these two
        categories. They are massively plentiful—if you find one in a store you
        are likely to find another one hundred just like it in a big pile—and
        they reputation is anything but stellar. What the WGT624 has going for
        it, and the reason that such a large market for the refurbished units
        exists is legion of buyers who cannot get it to work out of the box,
        return it in disgust, and write scathingly negative reviews of it. In
        defense of these buyers, I must say in fairness that any novice user
        will need a fair bit of good luck to get this router to work at anything
        like its full potential. I have not called Netgear for support, nor
        would I ever think of doing so, but the reports from those who have are
        disheartening to say the least. Hence, it is more likely that the
        original purchaser of the WGT624 and not the unit itself was the lemon.
        In one of my more notable prior incarnations as an
        experimental economist, I not only studied the lemons phenomenon on live
        human subjects, but I was the first person on this planet to conduct
        such an experiment. (My distinguished collaborators on the project were
        my mentor and frequent dining buddy, Charles Plott, along with Federal
        Trade Commission economists Michael Lynch and Russell Porter.) We were
        able to generate the lemons phenomenon in the laboratory without a lot
        of difficulty and then we explored "institutions" that could
        keep lemons from souring the market. What we discovered was that any
        mechanism that allowed buyers to communicate with each other about their
        experiences was enough to put anyone who sold a lemon out of business.
        (Sellers could distinguish a good product from a lemon, so that sellers
        of lemons were effectively perpetrating what is technically known among
        theoretical economists as a "rip-off.") Because "big
        brother" (in the form of me, Charlie, and the FTC) was there,
        buyers were forced to tell the truth about their purchasing experience.)
        Perhaps, in some small way, the results of this
        research has helped stay the regulatory hand of the FTC, especially now
        that the Internet allows information about products to be made available
        around the world instantaneously, so that sellers of lemons are punished
        almost as quickly as they were in the laboratory. One thing that we as
        experimenters had underestimated was just how easily
        reputation-reporting systems could be corrupted.
        Consider Amazon. Not only do sellers of products have
        shills, often on their payrolls, there to sing the praises of an
        unworthy item, they also bash their competitors' products. Product
        bashing is most obvious when the bad reviews come early in a product's
        life and are then followed by a stream of positive reviews and no
        further negative ones. For computer items, the most suspicious reviews
        are those that claim that installing the product's software munches
        one's computer, either requiring that the operating systems be
        reinstalled or, in extreme cases, "bricking" it. Paid or
        unpaid product assassins can be clever; they know that a one-star rating
        is more likely to be bounced by the system, and so they always assign at
        least two stars to their hatchet jobs. On heavily censored sites (compusa.com
        springs to mind), scathingly negative five-star ratings can manage to
        slip by the censors.
        As for the Netgear WGT624, the negative reviews
        relating to sudden death by overheating are so abundant that one has to
        believe that there was something to them. I hope that the added air
        holes do the trick. If not, the vertical mounting stands make it into a
        neat piece of modern sculpture—and a real bargain at twice the price.
      
      
      Copyright 2006 by Miller Risk Advisors. Permission
      granted to forward by electronic means and to excerpt or broadcast 250
      words or less provided a citation is made to www.millerrisk.com.