In addition to the boring 2.9-inch screen, there’s a unique 8-megapixel “360-eye” camera that can rotate either towards you or away from you. It’s an interesting way to avoid bundling two separate cameras, so I give Rabbit credit for it. But the 360-degree eye isn’t meant for photography: it’s more about computer vision. You can ask the R1 to describe what’s in front of you, from objects to documents and articles, and wait for an AI-generated summary. While this might be useful for people with visual impairments, these users could do the same with ChatGPT, Microsoft’s Copilot, or built-in tools on their phones (which also have far better cameras).
Using the Rabbit R1 is a pointless exercise
Aside from its looks, the Rabbit R1 is largely a failure. Once it’s turned on, you should be able to press the push-to-talk button on the side and ask the AI assistant what you want: the weather, local traffic, or a summary of a recent book. However, in my testing, the R1 often provided the weather when I asked about traffic, and sometimes it listened to my request and simply did nothing.
The R1 becomes more frustrating the more you use it: the scroll wheel is the only way to interact with the interface (even though the display is also a touchscreen), and it’s just awkward to use. There is no reason for how long you have to scroll to switch between menu options. Just selecting things is a hassle since the confirmation button is on the right side of the R1. It would be much easier to press that button somewhere below the scroll wheel – or better yet, just let me use the damn touchscreen!
Oddly enough, the Rabbit’s touchscreen detects touch when you need to enter text like a Wi-Fi network password. But even this process is annoying, requiring you to turn the R1 on its side and type on a ridiculously small keyboard. Honestly, every time I had to use it, I felt like I was getting pissed. (Make the obligatory reference: “What’s this for? A keyboard?”) Ants?”)
Third-party apps on the Rabbit R1
The more I used the Rabbit R1, the more I felt like it was intentionally designed to drive me crazy. It can play music from Spotify (if you have a paid subscription), but what’s the point with its terrible 2-watt speaker? Are you expected to connect Bluetooth headphones? You can ask the R1 to generate art via Midjourney AI (also with a paid account), but the images it created often didn’t appear to me. On the rare occasions they showed up, I actually couldn’t Do something with the AI images from the R1. I would have to load Midjourney’s Discord server on my phone or computer to share them.
When I asked the R1 to get me an Uber for a local movie theater, it informed me that the Uber service on RabbitOS may load slowly and may not be available everywhere (uh, thanks?). After 30 seconds of inactivity, I was informed that the Uber service might be under maintenance or that there was a problem with my login credentials. (I logged out and logged back in to Uber on the “Rabbit Hole” website you use to manage the R1, but the error persisted.)
“LAM runs 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 up and running. “Uber ultimately decides how and whether it serves users. So depending on factors like where you book from, your driving history etc. it may vary from time to time. We are implementing measures to help improve the success rate and transparency of ride booking through R1, so the experience should improve over time.”
At least I was able to get a sandwich with the Rabbit R1. I asked it to find something to eat nearby, and it spent a full minute communicating with Postmates and its AI cloud – the same amount of time it would take me to complete a GrubHub order on my phone. The R1 eventually came back with three chaotic options: Subway, a nearby Henri’s Bakery, and a restaurant five miles away that I’ve never heard of
I chose Henri’s (they make really great sandwiches) and R1 showed me a whopping six menu items. The tiny screen could only display an image of the item, its name, and the price – you can’t tap it to get a longer description or customize anything. You can only add or remove items from your shopping cart. I chose two sandwiches and to my surprise the R1 completed the order without ever confirming my payment information or shipping address. It worked completely with my default DoorDash settings, and luckily they were up to date.
As soon as the order was placed, my iPhone lit up with all sorts of useful information from DoorDash. I received a confirmation from the restaurant, a detailed look at the bill (the R1 apparently added my standard 20% tip), and the name of my delivery driver. It took several minutes for the R1 to acknowledge the command, and it only occasionally informed me that it was getting closer.
My sandwiches finally arrived, but I was more amazed at the many ways things could go wrong. This isn’t 1999; I’m no longer impressed with being able to easily order food online like I did with Kozmo.com (RIP). But even then I had the opportunity to get a full insight into the menus and customize things. The fact that I could look at my phone and see that the DoorDash app was far more useful made me immediately lose faith in the R1.
There are other things the R1 can do, like recording and summarizing meetings. But this is also something multiple apps on my phone and computer can do. The on-demand translation feature seemed to work well when converting English to Spanish and Japanese, but it’s no better than Google Translate or ChatGPT on my phone.
What is the point of the Rabbit R1?
All of this leads me to the question: What is actually the point of the Rabbit R1? It certainly can’t replace your phone as it can’t make calls or send SMS. While you can add a SIM card for always-on connectivity, that just makes it more expensive. It will still be useless on the road anyway. Perhaps, one could argue, it is a companion device to help you avoid being distracted by your phone. But it’s so slow and hard to use that I find the notification-filled hellscape of my smartphone far more soothing. There’s absolutely nothing special about having yet another device to buy, charge, and transport.
And if you’re worried about battery life, you should definitely stay away from the Rabbit R1. When I first received it, the R1’s battery died while idling absolutely nothing, for eight hours. The first major RabbitOS update helped significantly, but the R1 still can’t last a full day on a single charge. For a device that has such a small screen and moves its work to the cloud, this is simply inexcusable.
I suppose 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 is like saying that rabbit poop doesn’t smell bad compared to dog poop. Technically true! But in the end everything is still shit. The Humane’s projection screen is at least an interesting take on the mobile interface, and perhaps less cumbersome as a portable device. The Rabbit AI assistant, on the other hand, is basically just a clunkier and dumber phone.
Don’t buy the R1. Even if Rabbit somehow manages to fulfill some of the promises of its LAM – such as the ability to train the R1 to handle different tasks – I have no confidence that it will actually work well. My advice also applies to any standalone AI device: just stay away. Your phone is enough.