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AI is changing how small online sellers decide what to make
For years Mike McClary sold the Guardian LTE Flashlight, a heavy-duty black model, online through his small outdoor brand. The product, designed for brightness and durability, became one of his most popular items ever. Even after he stopped offering it around 2017, customers kept sending him emails asking where they could buy it.
When McClary decided to revisit the Guardian flashlight in 2025, he didn’t begin the way he might have in the past, by combing through supplier listings and sending inquiries to factories. Instead, he opened Accio, an AI sourcing and researching tool on Alibaba.com.
For small entrepreneurs in the US, deciding what to sell and where to make it has traditionally been a slow, labor-intensive process that can take months. Now that work is increasingly being done by AI tools like Accio, which help connect businesses with manufacturers in countries including China and India. Business owners and e-commerce experts told MIT Technology Review that these AI tools are making sourcing more accessible and significantly shortening the time it takes to go from product idea to launch.
McClary, 51, who runs his business from his Illinois living room, has sold products ranging from leather conditioner to camping lights, including one rechargeable lantern that brought in half a million dollars. Like many small online merchants, he built his business by being extremely scrappy—spotting demand for a product, tweaking existing designs, finding a factory, doing modest marketing, and getting the goods in front of customers fast.
This time, though, he began by telling Accio about the flashlight’s original design, production cost, and profit margin. Then Accio suggested several changes, making it smaller and slightly less bright and switching its charging method to battery power. It also identified a manufacturer in Ningbo, China, that McClary said could cut the manufacturing cost from $17 to about $2.50 per unit.
McClary took the process from there, contacting the supplier himself to discuss the revised design. Within a month, the new version of the Guardian flashlight was back up for sale on Amazon and on his brand’s website.
The new factory hunt
Although Alibaba is better known for owning Taobao, the biggest shopping site in China, its first business was Alibaba.com, the primary website that lists Chinese factories open for bulk orders. Placing an order with a manufacturer usually requires far more than clicking “Buy.” Sellers often spend days or weeks browsing listings, comparing suppliers’ reviews and manufacturing capacities, asking about minimum order quantities, requesting samples, and negotiating timelines and customization options.
But Accio has gained significant momentum by changing how that sourcing gets done. Launched in 2024, Accio exceeded 10 million monthly active users in March 2026, according to the company. That means about one in five Alibaba users consults with AI about product sourcing.
Accio’s interface looks a lot like ChatGPT or Claude: Users type a question into an empty box and choose between “fast” and “thinking” modes. But when asked about products, the tool returns more than text, offering charts, links, and visuals and asking follow-up questions to clarify the buyer’s needs. It then narrows the field to one or a handful of suppliers that appear capable of delivering. After that, the human work begins: Users still have to reach out to suppliers themselves and negotiate the details.
Zhang Kuo, the president of Alibaba.com, told MIT Technology Review that the tool is built on multiple frontier models, including the company’s own Qwen series, a popular family of open-source large language models. The system is able to pull from the site’s millions of supplier profiles and is trained on 26 years of proprietary transaction data.
For tasks like product research and sourcing analysis, the tool “blows it away” compared with general AI tools like ChatGPT, says Richard Kostick, CEO of the beauty brand 100% Pure.
Many websites have tried using AI to assist shopping, but Alibaba has been one of the most aggressive. In March, Eddie Wu, CEO of the site’s parent company Alibaba Group, told managers that integrating the company’s core services with Qwen’s AI capabilities is a top priority. During a Chinese New Year promotion of Qwen’s personal shopping AI agent, where the company gave away cash, customers placed 200 million orders, the firm says.
Vincenzo Toscano, an e-commerce seller and consultant, recommended Accio to his clients before deciding to try it himself for a new sunglasses brand. He came in with a rough vision: a brand shaped by his Italian heritage, his personal style, and a boutique aesthetic. He says the AI helped turn that concept into something more concrete, suggesting materials, refining the look, and pointing to design ideas that felt current.
But the tool has clear limits. McClary, who uses AI tools regularly, says Accio is strongest when it comes to product ideation, but less helpful on marketing questions such as advertising and social media outreach. To use it well, he says, buyers still need to challenge its recommendations, since some can be generic.
The rest of the business
As platforms become more AI-driven, manufacturers are adjusting too. Sally Li, a representative at a makeup packaging company in Wuhan, China, says her firm has started writing more detailed product descriptions and adding information about its equipment and manufacturing experience on Alibaba.com because it suspects those details make its listings more likely to be surfaced by AI.
Yan says manufacturers cannot tell whether an inquiry from a customer was generated or guided by AI, and that her firm is not using AI to negotiate pricing or product details.
“AI agents are increasingly used by people to assist purchase decisions and even directly making transactions, and with clear guardrails, they can become extremely useful,” says Jiaxin Pei, a research scientist at the Stanford Institute for Human-Centered AI, “but agents need to act transparently, securely, and in the customer’s best interest.” Pei says developers of these tools should disclose the data they collect and the incentives built into them to ensure that the marketplace remains fair.
Zhang, of Alibaba.com, says Accio currently does not include advertising. Suppliers can pay for higher placement in Alibaba.com’s regular search results, but Zhang says Accio is “not integrated” with that system. “We haven’t had a clear answer in terms of how to monetize this tool,” he says. For now, users can pay for additional tokens to continue chatting with the agent after their free queries run out.
Sellers say that while AI tools have made it easier to come up with ideas and get a business off the ground, they do not replace the core skills that make someone good at e-commerce. McClary believes that even when sellers have access to the same market information, some are still better at making decisions, acting quickly, and actually delivering on orders. Those differences, he says, still go a long way.
Toscano, the brand founder and e-commerce consultant, feels good about officially launching his new brand of sunglasses in just a few months: “We [small business owners] always have to bootstrap a lot of decisions. Deciding what to sell often comes down to an educated guess,” he says, “And we’re now in an era when making those decisions is easier than ever.”
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Hustlers are cashing in on China’s OpenClaw AI craze
Feng Qingyang had always hoped to launch his own company, but he never thought this would be how—or that the day would come this fast.
Feng, a 27-year-old software engineer based in Beijing, started tinkering with OpenClaw, a popular new open-source AI tool that can take over a device and autonomously complete tasks for a user, in January. He was immediately hooked, and before long he was helping other curious tech workers with less technical proficiency install the AI agent.
Feng soon realized this could be a lucrative opportunity. By the end of January, he had set up a page on Xianyu, a secondhand shopping site, advertising “OpenClaw installation support.” “No need to know coding or complex terms. Fully remote,” reads the posting. “Anyone can quickly own an AI assistant, available within 30 minutes.”
At the same time, the broader Chinese public was beginning to catch on—and the tool, which had begun as a niche interest among tech workers, started to evolve into a popular sensation.
Feng quickly became inundated with requests, and he started chatting with customers and managing orders late into the night. At the end of February, he quit his job. His side gig has now grown into a full-fledged professional operation with over 100 employees. So far, the store has handled 7,000 orders, each worth about 248 RMB or approximately $34.
“Opportunities are always fleeting,” says Feng. “As programmers, we are the first to feel the winds shift.”
Feng is among a small cohort of savvy early adopters turning China’s OpenClaw craze into cash. As users with little technical background want in, a cottage industry of people offering installation services and preconfigured hardware has sprung up to meet them. The sudden rise of these tinkerers and impromptu consultants shows just how eager the general public in China is to adopt cutting-edge AI—even when there are huge security risks.
A “lobster craze”
“Have you raised a lobster yet?”
Xie Manrui, a 36-year-old software engineer in Shenzhen, says he has heard this question nonstop over the past month. “Lobster” is the nickname Chinese users have given to OpenClaw—a reference to its logo.
Xie, like Feng, has been experimenting with OpenClaw since January. He’s built new open-source tools on top of the ecosystem, including one that visualizes the agent’s progress as an animated little desktop worker and another that lets users voice-chat with it.
“I’ve met so many new people through ‘lobster raising,’” says Xie. “Many are lawyers or doctors, with little technical background, but all dedicated to learning new things.”
Lobsters are indeed popping up everywhere in China right now—on and offline. In February, for instance, the entrepreneur and tech influencer Fu Sheng hosted a livestream showing off OpenClaw’s capabilities that got 20,000 views. And just last weekend, Xie attended three different OpenClaw events in Shenzhen, each drawing more than 500 people. These self-organized, unofficial gatherings feature power users, influencers, and sometimes venture capitalists as speakers. The biggest event Xie attended, on March 7, drew more than 1,000 people; in the packed venue, he says, people were shoulder to shoulder, with many attendees unable to even get a seat.
Now China’s AI giants are starting to piggyback on the trend too, promoting their models, APIs, and cloud services (which can be used with OpenClaw), as well as their own OpenClaw-like agents. Earlier this month, Tencent held a public event offering free installation support for OpenClaw, drawing long lines of people waiting for help, including elderly users and children.
This sudden burst in popularity has even prompted local governments to get involved. Earlier this month the government of Longgang, a district in Shenzhen, released several policies to support OpenClaw-related ventures, including free computing credits and cash rewards for standout projects. Other cities, including Wuxi, have begun rolling out similar measures.
These policies only catalyze what’s already in the air. “It was not until my father, who is 77, asked me to help install a ‘lobster’ for him that I realized this thing is truly viral,” says Henry Li, a software engineer based in Beijing.
A programmer gold rush
What’s making this moment particularly lucrative for people with technical skills, like Feng, is that so many people want OpenClaw, but not nearly as many have the capabilities to access it. Setting it up requires a level of technical knowledge most people do not possess, from typing commands into a black terminal window to navigating unfamiliar developer platforms. On the hardware side, an older or budget laptop may struggle to run it smoothly. And if the tool is not installed on a device separate from someone’s everyday computer, or if the data accessible to OpenClaw is not properly partitioned, the user’s privacy could be at risk—opening the door to data leaks and even malicious attacks.
Chris Zhao, known as “Qi Shifu” online, organizes OpenClaw social media groups and events in Beijing. On apps like Rednote and Jike, Zhao routinely shares his thoughts on AI, and he asks other interested users to leave their WeChat ID so he can invite them to a semi-private group chat. The proof required to join is a screenshot that shows your “lobster” up and running. Zhao says that even in group chats for experienced users, hardware and cloud setup remain a constant topic of discussion.
The relatively high bar for setting up OpenClaw has generated a sense of exclusivity, creating a natural opening for a service industry to start unfolding around it. On Chinese e-commerce platforms like Taobao and JD, a simple search for “OpenClaw” now returns hundreds of listings, most of them installation guides and technical support packages aimed at nontechnical users, priced anywhere from 100 to 700 RMB (approximately $15 to $100). At the higher end, many vendors offer to come to help you in person.
Like Feng, most providers of these services are early adopters with some technical ability who are looking for a side gig. But as demand has surged, some have found themselves overwhelmed. Xie, the developer in Shenzhen who created tools to layer on OpenClaw, was asked by a friend who runs one such business to help out over the weekend; the friend had a customer who worked in e-commerce and had little technical experience, so Xie had to show up in person to get it done. He walked away with 600 RMB ($87) for the afternoon.
The growing demand has also pushed vendors like Feng to expand quickly. He has now standardized his operation into tiers: a basic installation, a custom package where users can make specific requests like configuring a preferred chat app, and an ongoing tutoring service for those who want a hand to hold as they find their footing with the technology.
Other vendors in China are making money combining OpenClaw with hardware. Li Gong, a Shenzhen-based seller of refurbished Mac computers, was among the first online sellers to do this—offering Mac minis and MacBooks with OpenClaw preinstalled. Because OpenClaw is designed to operate with deep access to a hard drive and can run continuously in the background unattended, many users prefer to install it on a separate device rather than on the one they use every day. This would help prevent bad actors from infiltrating the program and immediately gaining access to a wide swathe of someone’s personal information. Many turn to secondhand or refurbished options to keep the cost down. Li says that in the last two weeks, orders have increased eightfold.
Though OpenClaw itself is a new technology, the general practice of buying software bundles, downloading third-party packages, and seeking out modified devices is nothing new for many Chinese internet users, says Tianyu Fang, a PhD candidate studying the history of technology at Harvard University. Many users pay for one-off IT support services for tasks from installing Adobe software to jailbreaking a Kindle.
Still, not everyone is getting swept up. Jiang Yunhui, a tech worker based in Ningbo, worries that ordinary users who struggle with setup may not be the right audience for a technology that is still effectively in testing.
“The hype in first-tier cities can be a little overblown,” he says. “The agent is still a proof of concept, and I doubt it would be of any life-changing use to the average person for now.” He argues that using it safely and getting anything meaningful out of it requires a level of technical fluency and independent judgment that most new users simply don’t have yet.
He’s not alone in his concerns. On March 10, the Chinese cybersecurity regulator CNCERT issued a warning about the security and data risks tied to OpenClaw, saying it heightens users’ exposure to data breaches.
Despite the potential pitfalls, though, China’s enthusiasm for OpenClaw doesn’t seem to be slowing.
Feng, now flush with the earnings from his operation, wants to use the momentum—and the capital—to keep building out his own venture with AI tools at the center of it.
“With OpenClaw and other AI agents, I want to see if I can run a one-person company,” he says. “I’m giving myself one year.”