The Final Straw
Ken tells some home truths about home automation
I’m partial to a bit of home automation. For instance, I’m happy that I’m able to flip TV channels with a remote control, because getting up off the sofa is so 1970s. And there’s not much that gives me greater pleasure than hearing the central heating kicking in on cold winter mornings. Actually, I suppose Mrs Rigsby delivering afternoon tea and biscuits to my desk gives me greater pleasure than that. But if I suggested that my wife is little more than a home-automation device then I’d be labelled a hideous old dinosaur. And I wouldn’t want that, oh no!
But there’s an incoming wave of home-assistant gizmos that just makes me want to smack them. Which is doubly annoying, because that’s exactly what some of them are designed for. But before we get to those blighters I want to talk about Google Home and Amazon Echo.
If you’ve not heard of these digital assistants then imagine the know-it-all down at your local pub. You know, the eavesdropper who props up the bar, just waiting for a moment to jump in to put you right about something. Now imagine shrinking this boozy braggart down to the size of a candle, transporting him home and then plonking him on your mantelpiece. Because that’s more or less what these automated assistants are: ever-present wiseacres who are only too keen to poke their nose into your business.
Now, to be fair, these devices do have the decency to keep their oar out of your conversation until you invite them to join in. Only when you shout their name will they pipe up — holler ‘Alexa’ to summon Echo or ‘OK Google’ to get Home’s attention — perhaps to resolve a family dispute over the capital of East Timor*, or to confirm your urgent Amazon order for more barbecue-flavour Pringles. And unlike the pub bore, these home assistants do have built-in mute buttons.
However, to be useful these gadgets need to be listening all the while, meaning most of them will be doing just that, most of the time. Moreover, the moment they’re summoned they begin to record, instantly uploading a digitised version of your chat to some far-flung data centre for processing. So, you get answers to geography questions and the ability to order new supplies of snacks, and Amazon and Google get to fill their digital boots with even more information about you and your life.
But these always-listening assistants are only the beginning. The world’s mega-corporations all harbour ambitions to weave their wares (and wiles) into every aspect of our lives. Indeed, it’s possible already to literally surround yourself with home-automation gadgets: seemingly innocuous devices whose real raison d’être is to inject brand names into your subconscious all day long. Must. Buy. Branded. Product. Now.
What am I talking about? Well, when I mentioned punchable automatons earlier I was alluding to Amazon’s Dash buttons. These are thumb-sized Wi-fi switches with a single purpose: press the button to order the product advertised on the front.
The idea is that you stick Dash devices here, there and everywhere around your home. There’s a Dash button for Andrex, one for Fairy (pictured), one for Whiskas, and even one for Durex. It’s meant to speed up online shopping, which is progress of a sort, I suppose. But if I want my home to look like a supermarket, I’d move into the cake aisle of my local Waitrose.
These devices are like the pub bore, just waiting for a moment to jump in and put you right