A $199 AI toy that fails at almost everything

Alongside the dull 2.9-inch screen is a unique 8-megapixel “360 eye” camera that can rotate towards you or away from you. It’s an interesting way to avoid grouping two separate cameras, so I’ll give Rabbit credit for that. But the 360-degree eye isn’t for taking pictures: instead, it’s all about computer vision. You can ask R1 to describe what’s in front of you, from objects to documents and articles, and wait for an AI-generated summary. While this is something that can be useful for the visually impaired, those users could do the same with ChatGPT, Microsoft’s Copilot, or built-in tools on their phones (which also have much better cameras).

Using the Rabbit R1 is an exercise in futility

Beyond its looks, the Rabbit R1 is mostly a failure. Once it’s on, you should be able to press the Direct Talk button on the side and ask the AI ​​assistant whatever you want: the weather, local traffic, or a summary of a recent book. In my tests, however, the R1 would often transmit the time when I requested traffic, and sometimes it would hear my request and just do nothing.

The R1 becomes more frustrating the more you use it: its scroll wheel is the only way to interact with its interface (although the display is also touchscreen), and it’s just plain awkward to use. There’s no rhyme or reason to how long you have to scroll to move between menu options. The very act of selecting things is a pain, as the confirm button is on the right side of the R1. This button would be much easier to press somewhere below the scroll wheel – or better yet, just let me use the damn touchscreen!

Strangely, the Rabbit’s touchscreen recognizes touches when you need to enter text such as a Wi-Fi network password. But even this process is tedious, as it involves turning R1 sideways and typing on a ridiculously small keyboard. Honestly, I felt like I was being punked every time I had to use it. (Indicate the mandatory “What’s this, a keyboard for ants?”)

Third Party Apps on Rabbit R1

The more I used the Rabbit R1, the more I felt like it was purposefully designed to drive me crazy. It can play music from Spotify (if you have a paid subscription), but what’s the point of doing that with your terrible 2 watt speaker? Are you expected to connect a Bluetooth headset? You can ask the R1 to generate art via the Midjourney AI (again with a paid account), but it often failed to show me the created photos. On the rare occasion they did appear, I actually couldn’t do all with AI photos from R1. I’ll need to load the Midjourney Discord server on my phone or computer to share them around.

When I asked R1 to find me an Uber to a local theater, it told me that the Uber service can load slowly on RabbitOS and isn’t available everywhere (uh, thanks?). After 30 seconds of idle it said the Uber service might be under maintenance or there might be a problem with my credentials. (I exited and returned to Uber on the “Rabbit Hole” website you use to manage the R1, but the error persisted.)

“LAM works by running the Uber web app in the cloud on your behalf,” Rabbit representative Ryan Fenwick told me via email when I asked why I couldn’t get the Uber service to work. “Uber ultimately decides how and whether to serve users, so depending on factors such as the location you book from, your travel history, etc., it may vary from time to time. We are implementing measures to help improve the success rate and transparency of booking travel through R1, so the experience should improve over time.”

At least Rabbit R1 was able to get me a sandwich. I asked him to find lunch nearby, and he spent a full minute interacting with Postmates and its AI cloud—the exact amount of time it would take me to complete a GrubHub order on my phone. R1 eventually returned with three chaotic choices: a subway, a nearby Henri’s bakery, and a restaurant five miles away that I’d never heard of

I chose Henri’s (they really make killer sandwiches) and R1 showed me six whole menu items. Its tiny screen could only contain a picture of the item, its name and price — you couldn’t tap it to get a longer description or customize anything. You can only add or remove items to your cart. I selected two sandwiches and, to my surprise, R1 completed the order without ever confirming my payment information or shipping address. It worked entirely off of my default DoorDash settings, and thankfully they were up to date.

As soon as the order was placed, my iPhone started lighting up with all kinds of useful information from DoorDash. I received a confirmation from the restaurant, a detailed review of the bill (R1 apparently added a 20% tip by default) and the name of my delivery driver. The R1 took a few minutes to confirm the order and only occasionally let me know it was getting close.

My sandwiches finally arrived, but I was amazed at the many ways things could go wrong. This is not 1999; I’m no longer just impressed by the ability to order food online like I did from Kozmo.com (REST IN PEACE). But even then I was able to get a full view of the menus and customize things. The fact that I could look at my phone and see that the DoorDash app was so much more useful made me instantly lose faith in the R1.

There are other things the R1 can do, like recording and summarizing meetings. But it’s also something that several apps can do on my phone and computer. The on-demand translation feature seems to work well, converting English to Spanish and Japanese, but it’s no better than Google Translate or ChatGPT on my phone.

What’s the point of the Rabbit R1?

All of which leads me to ask: What’s the point of the Rabbit R1, really? it certainly can’t replace your phone since it can’t make calls or send text messages. Although you can add a SIM card for always-on connectivity, that just makes it more expensive. It will be useless on the go anyway. You might argue that it’s a companion device that helps you avoid the distraction of your phone. But it’s so slow and difficult to use that I find the notification-filled hellscape of my smartphone far more comforting. There’s nothing Zen about having yet another device to buy, charge, and carry.

And if you suffer from battery life anxiety, you should absolutely stay away from the Rabbit R1. When I first got it, the R1 would burn its battery while sitting idle doing this absolutely nothing, for eight hours. The first major RabbitOS update helped a lot, but the R1 still can’t last a full day on a single charge. For a device that has such a small screen and transfers its work to the cloud, this is simply inexcusable.

I guess you could argue that the $199 Rabbit R1 is a good deal compared to the $699 Humane AI Pin (which also requires a $24 monthly subscription), but that’s like saying rabbit poop doesn’t smell bad compared to dog feces. Technically true! But in the end, it’s still shit. Humane’s projection screen is an interesting twist on the mobile user interface, to say the least, and is potentially less cumbersome as a wearable. Rabbit’s AI assistant, on the other hand, is just a dumber and dumber phone.

Don’t buy the R1. Even if Rabbit somehow manages to deliver on some of the promises of its LAM—like the ability to train R1 to handle a variety of tasks—I have no faith that it will actually work well. My advice applies to any stand-alone AI gadget: just stay away. Your phone is enough.