How Does The Google Panda Algorithm Work?

Ever wondered how the Google algorithm works? How does it decide where in the ranking our precious pages sit? Why Panda decided that your web writing should be banished to the ass end of the listings?

You may read this article about the search engine and be none the wiser at the end of it. In fact, that's almost certain. But hopefully, if you do read it - and it's not that long - you might get a smile.

And boy do we need a smile when trying to fathom out how the hell to get back up the search results, without cheating. Yeah, yeah, I know - quality content and on message websites. It's just a teensy bit dullsville.

Anyway, here's my attempt to lighten the load and score a few points back in Google's direction using the writer's weapon of choice... sarcasm.

There’s a lot of nonsense on the internet about gaming the search engine and I am only too pleased to be able to add to it.

Although either of my regular readers will vouch for a certain level, or lack perhaps, of quality in my work - occasionally I am able to surprise them with some genuine informative content.

This is one of those times.

Now, I’m not one to represent hearsay as fact, unless in a bar of course, but when one stumbles on some knowledge it is good to be able to share it. Especially in these Panda hit times.

In here, is the real sh… knowledge straight from the man himself, and transcribed by me.

A friend of mine was visiting a gentlemen’s leisure establishment at the weekend when he bumped into someone in the toilets. This chance encounter turned out not to be the usual, followed by “I’ll promise I’ll ring” but something rather more important.

The person he had 'accidentally' bumped up against a couple of times was a well known character in the land of Google SEO – I can’t say more than that at this stage. Obviously I’ve spread it all over Twitter but I prefer to keep my HubPages output away from the gutter of popularity. Well away in fact.

Anyway he recognised my friend from a picture I had used on my old profile page (never use your own picture) and was keen to set the record straight. “You’re the one who keeps moaning about Google” he said while he was towelling off.

“So?” said my friend, trying to be as nonchalant as possible. He and I don’t really like confrontation, not unless I’m paying for it and we have a secret word to stop the fun.

It transpired that a page of my output had reached the higher levels of the GooglePlex due to classification problems.

This surprised me. I thought the whole ranking and searching thing was fully automated but M--- explained that it wasn’t. Oh yes, they’d been trying for years to develop something that could tell its ass from its elbow but you know what programmers are like. And all their good ones had now gone to Facebook anyway.

After they had finished their business M--- was keen to explain more to my friend. They went to a local Men Only shower club and he continued with his thoughts while they performed the towel flicking ritual.

To be honest my friend could not give a monkeys about Google, SEO or the rivalry with Facebook but he did that listening thing where you only need to nod once every couple of minutes and say “ah” occasionally.

Meanwhile M--- spouted off again, to my friends surprise.

“We have an algorithm” he said, “but it isn’t very good”. “So we use manual intervention as well”.

At this point my friend put his voice recorder on, so he could ‘listen’ with his eyes closed and didn’t have to take notes. He just passed the whole thing to me on returning to our shared room at the YMCA. He has the top bunk except when it's chilli night - he just won't leave his dill pickle alone and the outcome can be unpredictable.

What Google do is use their algorithm to check if there are products for sale (pass), ways to diet (pass), or pornography (pass with flying colours) and other content (alarm). The other content is then emailed to their team of fifty thousand poorly paid sweatshop workers in a country not so far away from China.

Well, it is China, although it used to be another country, but let’s not quibble. We’ll leave that to the Free Tibet moaners – why can’t they just be grateful for the tourism?

Anyway, this team are directed to sift content, as quickly as possible so it can be categorized. Mostly, this is straightforward – poorly phrased or copied content is immediately passed. It’s the other stuff that causes problems.

M--- spent several minutes moaning, well ranting, at this stage – and my friend had to turn down the recording volume on the Dictaphone.

“Those bastards” he said, “with their oh so clever look at me crap”. I will spare you the rest, but after his exertions earlier that evening I’m surprised he had the energy left for a full on rant.

The problem is the classification of content that may or may not be quality. If the first level manual assessment officer is unable to decide then the piece gets referred upwards. If they can’t decide then up it goes again. And so on.

What I didn’t realise is that ultimately content can reach the very top of Google where people like M---, well M--- in fact, has to decide how best to categorise.

Bear in mind that if he doesn’t get it right then Bing will, so there is an element of pressure.

The problem he was referring to was my piece on Gay Pets which has now attracted a certain amount of internet attention, and this is despite me peddling it on every blog and forum available.

Every three days this piece is picked up by the hopeless algorithm, and every three days it goes to Thailand (ed: It was Tibet a minute ago?) , and every three days it land on M---‘s desk.

This is because I keep changing it, which requires the poor algorithm to check it again and it appears to be taxing the best brains at Google. When I say best brains I am not being complimentary, quite the reverse in fact.

“What I don’t understand” cried M---, and he appeared to be crying, “is what is it supposed to be?”.

My friend, having wisely not read the piece, but knowing me very well, suggested it was probably a moderately amusing bit of nonsense. This didn’t satisfy M---.

“But it’s not funny”.

“It doesn’t have to be” said my friend. “That’s what makes it so”.

This slightly odd comment floored M--- completely and utterly. He was quiet and puzzled for a while.

“You mean something can look like something and be something else” he said, fairly incoherently.

“Yup” replied my friend.

This apparently came as a bit of a shock to the highest search authority in the land. It seems that if you are not selling toasters or copying other people’s work or touting pornography they don’t have a bloody clue what to do with it.

As my friend was a bit bored with this conversation by now he gave him a friendly punch in the mouth and returned home.

I wish I could have been there to punch him too. Could have been quite a queue if it had been Gay Farmer’s Night (Tuesday - Twinks, Bears and Pandas half price).