What happens to your PC if you agree to install everything you’re offered?
One word can change everything. That’s the premise of Danny Wallace’s 2006 book, Yes Man, where the protagonist spends a year of his life obeying a very simple dictum: say ‘yes’ to everything. He says ‘yes’ to every offer of a credit card, to meetings with people who believe the pyramids were built by aliens, to ‘random solicitations’ over the internet. And, for the most part, he has a bloody good time. So good, they made the book into a film starring Jim Carrey.
I decided to run a similar experiment of my own: say ‘yes’ to absolutely everything I’m offered on my PC. I would tick every box during software installations, accept every download suggested by website pop-ups, and OK every offer to change a default setting on my PC. I wanted to find out what would happen to my computer if I took every last morsel that was offered to me. How long would my over-positivity take to drag my PC to its knees, and what would it look like by the end of it?
The rules of engagement
I wanted to see how long it would take my experiment to destroy a completely clean Windows installation. I set up a Windows 7 virtual machine using Oracle’s VirtualBox (www.virtualbox.org), and afforded the virtualised OS as much disk space as it required, 2GB of RAM and access to all four CPU cores on my test 1.7GHz Intel Core i5 PC.
It would obviously be the work of minutes to sabotage a PC deliberately by finding illicit sites to download dodgy stuff from, so I set out to keep the test legit: attempt to pursue everyday computing tasks such as gaming, digital photography and listening to music using well-known sites and services, while agreeing to install anything that is offered to me in the process. I would leave any pre-ticked boxes ticked during software installations, and install anything else on offer.
In order to behave responsibly, I wouldn’t install anything that was flagged as malware by antivirus software, nor anything that would force me to behave illegally (such as downloading copyrighted material).
TASK 1
A better browser
I opted to run my experiment with Windows 7 because it’s still the world’s most popular OS but, as Windows 7 users will know, that means the swishy new Edge browser is off limits: you’re lumbered with Internet Explorer. That won’t do, so my first job is to download Google Chrome. I leave the boxes ticked to make Chrome my default browser and send off any crash reports to Google, and I’m away.
I’m also going to need a new email account, as I don’t want to lumber my existing account with the barrel-loads of spam that will come my way for signing up to everything in sight, so I create a new Gmail burner account to direct all the gubbins to. This, however, requires me to hand over my telephone number to Google so they can ring me with a verification code: 1-0 to The Man, and I’m only five minutes in. If I start getting calls at midnight from penis-extension salesmen, I shall be having a stiff word with Sergey and Larry.
Email account activated, I set off for some light browsing. I head over to Google News and start scrolling through the headlines. Before long, I’m being enticed with offers. The Argus newspaper wants my email address to ping over news alerts, the Telegraph wants my details to win a holiday in Sydney, the Guardian wants my money to “help keep our journalism fearless and independent” – but journalism doesn’t get much more fearless than saying yes to everything you see on the internet, so they have to settle for my email address for their daily news round-up.
Before long, that nice clean Gmail inbox is starting to fill up with confirmations, requests for more registration details and other promotions. That’s all a bit too boring. Time for some fun instead.
TASK 2
Play some games
I set off for some browser-based fun by simply typing the word ‘games’ into Google. Top of the shop is gaming site Miniclip (www.miniclip.com), on whose homepage I spot an advertisement for Minecraft with a big ‘PLAY’ button attached. Literally unable to resist, I click through to be offered a ‘free online version’ of Minecraft, with a big ‘INSTALL NOW’ button smack below it, which is quite something given Mojang charges the best part of £20 for Minecraft. There’s some pesky small print at the bottom, warning that I’m actually about to install GamesFlight, an “ad-supported extension” that “will serve different kinds of advertisements as you browse the internet” and “only collect non-personally identifiable information”. That doesn’t sound very Minecrafty, but if this is the price I must pay to get this free game, then I’m contractually obliged to agree.
GamesFlight installs successfully in Chrome and suddenly another installation kicks in, this time for a file called minecraft_pcgdemo.exe. It turns out this ‘free online version’ of Minecraft is merely the demo of the PC game, so not technically ‘free’ nor ‘online’ at all. What’s more, this Minecraft demo requires the Java Runtime Environment. This is not cricket.
Ever since Oracle acquired it, Java has been treated as Larry Ellison’s New Yacht Fund: you can have the software for free, but Oracle is going to slip a partner’s app in there with it, usually the execrable Ask Jeeves toolbar. This time, however, Java has been sold out to Amazon: the Java download comes with no fewer than three pre-ticked boxes for the Amazon Assistant, Amazon Smart Search and to make Amazon my default search engine and homepage.
To its credit, the Chrome browser seems to repel this Amazon invasion, but a pop-up appears informing me that Internet Explorer has been absolutely Amazoned up the wazoo, and by reigniting IE I’m now prompted once again to make Microsoft’s browser my default, which of course I’m duty bound to agree to. I try to find out what all this Amazon guff is doing by entering a search for ‘West Ham’ in Internet Explorer’s address bar and I get an Amazon-branded Google search results page with West Ham’s official website at the top. I click on the link and get an error message: “We’re sorry. The web address you entered is not a functioning page on our site. Go to Amazon.co.uk’s Home Page.” The same happens for every term I enter. It seems ‘Amazon Smart Search’ will let me search for anything on the web, but will only take me to results listed on Amazon.
So, by simply trying to play a free, online version of Minecraft, I’ve managed to download some ad-spewing extension, a Minecraft demo and Java, had my default browser switched and hijacked by Amazon, and have broken internet search. Not a bad morning’s work.
TASK 3
Watching video
I may not be able to search the internet any more, but I can still type in web addresses, so I head off to www.bbc.co.uk/iplayer to catch up on Only Connect. Alas, as I’m now back in Internet Explorer and not Chrome, Flash isn’t built in so I need to download the Flash player before I get to gaze longingly at Victoria Coren Mitchell. Here we find another phalanx of pre-ticked boxes before we can get our hands on the free download, and there’s more than a hint of irony about them. This time I must download Chrome, make Chrome my default browser and, oddly, install the Google Toolbar for Internet Explorer. If Chrome’s to be my default, why does Google want its toolbar in IE too? Talk about belt and braces.
Anyway, I agree to all of the above and click Finish, and soon new instances of both Chrome and IE are launched. I feel like a child caught between two warring parents going through a messy divorce. Chrome is now insisting it’s my default browser, while, having installed the Google Toolbar, Internet Explorer now wants me to affirm that Google should replace Amazon as the default search and homepage. Someone make it stop!
Clearly narked at being booted out of IE, Amazon stages a comeback. With the Flash installation having restarted Chrome, the browser now wants to install all the Amazon gunk I thought Chrome had fended off when Java was installed. Now I have an Amazon extension and my search and homepage switched to the store, too. At least the Amazon-branded search works in Chrome, taking me to the websites, not an Amazon error page.
The Amazon extension goes to work, offering me pop-up deals such as Johnnie Walker whisky for £23. I’ll take it. I could do with a drink after that.
TASK 4
Photos
How about some photo editing? It’s back to Google for the highly regarded Picasa, a decent, lightweight editor and organiser. Before I can even get the software, I’m asked to hand over my email address so they can ping me a survey, and then once the installation’s under way I’m coerced into replacing Windows Explorer with Google’s own Photo Viewer.
Google’s not finished with me yet, either: it now wants to me to download an applet for Google Photos Backup, ensuring all my photos are automatically zonked into the Google Cloud, but when I click to install this third app an Internet Explorer window appears – even though Chrome’s now meant to be the daddy again – urging me to download… Google Picasa.
I shut that down and there’s another window hiding behind it for the Auto Backup app, but before that will install I need to visit Google’s website and activate my Google Photos account. A simple hunt for one piece of software results in three different app downloads, an online registration form, a world of pain and a survey in my inbox. They get a piece of my mind in that survey, I don’t mind telling you.
TASK 5
Music
Time to ease the stress with a bit of music. I’m already sick of downloads, so I head to YouTube to stream something from my favourite band, Elbow. We’re no more than a minute into Grounds for Divorce when YouTube starts urging me to “Click here to download the track in iTunes”. iTunes? You utter sod, you.
iTunes for Windows is Apple’s retribution for not buying a Mac: an overblown, resource-hogging, pig’s lughole of an application that arrives mob-handed with an auto-updater and a QuickTime installer. iTunes isn’t about to let you download it once and forget about it, either, requesting as part of the setup process that you open the ‘default programs Control Panel’ and promptly mug Windows Media Player of all the file extensions it was previously deputised to handle. I’m also asked to share details of my music library with Apple and invited to visit the iTunes Store, where I can at least download the promised track – for 99p, of course.
Averse to paying for anything, I hunt down the freeloader’s music app of choice: Spotify. I register with my Gmail address, agree to share my registration data with Spotify’s content partners (what’s the harm?) and download the Spotify client. It doesn’t come with any bundled extras, doesn’t demand to take over anything, and simply delivers the piece of software I sought in the first place. This will never catch on.
TASK 6
Anti-virus
I’ve just finished installing Spotify, when a little bubble appears from the System Tray, warning me that I need some anti-virus software. Windows Defender is turned on, of course, but Microsoft recommends I take my pick from a selection of other vendors – a sop to keep the competition authorities off its back – and the first on the seemingly randomised list of security products it recommends is a product called Tencent PC Manager.
I click to download and am somewhat taken aback to be redirected to a page that’s written almost entirely in Chinese. Google Chrome is clever enough to guess that the only Mandarin I know is a citrus fruit and volunteers to translate. The download button in the middle is translated.
‘Monkey holding peach’? Not sure what that’s got to do with blocking ransomware but a debilitating stroke wouldn’t stop me hitting the download button now. Alas, the installation wizard is in Mandarin too, and without Google on hand to offer pidgin translation, I’m forced to admit defeat soon after installing my fruit-based simian security software, not having the first clue what any of the buttons do and with no sign of the promised monkey.
I reopen the Windows popup, and this time the more familiar Avira is offered up as an alternative. Avira is the king of the upsell, wedging its foot in my digital front door and foisting all manner of other apps on me. There’s Avira System Speedup to improve performance, back up and shred sensitive data. Then there’s Avira SafeSearch Plus, which offers secure alternatives for web searches, “gives you quality search results” and “shows results in your language and reason [sic]”. That’s followed by Online Essentials Dashboard, offering to “protect all your devices”, and finally, just when you think the progress bars have stopped, a little Avira popup appears from the bottom-right corner of the screen offering to “Safeguard your browsing for free”, which is what I thought I was getting in the first place. And so the Avira Browser Safety extension is also added to Chrome.
Four apps and a plugin for the price of one, most of which are lodged in the System Tray and running active background processes. Best run that System Speedup app. I’m going to need it now.
What’s all this nonsense proved?
Click ‘yes’ to everything you’re offered and your PC quickly descends into chaos. Tell me something I don’t know, I hear the cynics yelp. Except this experiment could easily have been titled ‘Digital Refuse Everything Man’ rather than ‘Digital Yes Man’, because so much of this guff arrives uninvited on your PC unless you explicitly tell it not to.
Pre-ticked add-ons aren’t the exception, they’re the norm. Even the industry’s biggest names, such as Amazon, Apple and Google, aren’t above trying to sneak something else on to your PC with the application you actually want. And if you think PC users are streetwise enough to untick all those boxes, I invite you round to see my dad’s PC; it looks remarkably similar to the Windows 7 installation I was left with after running my little experiment. If you think kids are too savvy to click on an offer to play “Minecraft Online” for free, come see what happens when I stick my two in front of that screen.
This doesn’t happen on smartphones and tablets. You don’t get three more app icons on your iPad when you download a game from the App Store. By accepting what software firms offered me over the course of five simple, everyday tasks, I’ve managed to break search in Internet Explorer, get caught in a battle between two warring browsers, download a piece of adware, and have all manner of unwanted utilities running at startup. And you should see the size of my days-old Gmail inbox. It’s this kind of nonsense that’s turning people off PCs.