For someone who writes a lot about gadgets, I sure hate them sometimes. OK, maybe ‘hate’ is a tad dramatic. ‘Grimly put up with, while longing for simpler times when you didn’t feel compelled to connect a washing machine to the internet, for those rare occasions when you urgently need to start a spin cycle for your socks while on the train home’. Friends nonetheless raved about new smart tech. Bad experiences left me a sceptic. Dumb appliances would suffice. Yet my home is now a battleground between smart and decidedly not smart kit – and I’ve learned a crucial lesson: smart tech can’t save dumb appliances.
I blame our Arlo doorbell for getting me into this mess, because it’s rather good. If it had been terrible, playing knock down ginger while snickering in an evil metallic tone, that would have been an excuse to permanently ignore all smart tech. Instead, it dutifully makes my iPhone go off when someone rings the doorbell. I can then see who (or what) is there – even when I’m abroad. Which was handy when I was in Spain and a courier blithely abandoned a big parcel on the doorstep, because I could panic-WhatsApp a neighbour. (Their response: “I hope this is Lego, because it’s otherwise been badly damaged by the courier. Even more than you’d expect.”)
Plug and pray
Prior to that, my smart tech world was a simple one of plugs and speakers. Cheap Amazon gadgets were dotted around. They mostly did as they were told. Then I switched our first-gen(!) Amazon Echo and Amazon plugs for a gaggle of mischievous HomePod minis, a HomePod overlord, and absurdly expensive Thread/Matter plugs. When you’ve reconnected a plug that cost five times its cheaper predecessor for the third time that week, patience wears thin and you resolve that the old ways are better after all.
However, several plugs that had been misbehaving miraculously and abruptly stopped their nonsense a few weeks ago when tasked with controlling outdoor Christmas lights. I took this as a sign that more smart kit wouldn’t be the worst idea, rather than that the tech itself was trolling me and preparing another ambush. The next investment was significant: a Tado smart thermostat. This was intended to replace a dreadful wired unit that habitually turned our living room into the inside of a volcano and then spent entire evenings cycling the boiler every 30 seconds, leaving the rest of the house akin to a fridge. Only marginally less toasty.
Hot stuff
The Tado was an instant hit. It wisely kept the boiler on and off for longer periods, making the house warmer. There was an app and a wireless gadget that could override settings. Bliss. We probably got a bit overexcited at that point, hence whacking smart thermostats on a bunch of radiators. But not all of them. You can see the problem.
It for some reason hadn’t occurred to me what might happen on retaining several not smart radiators. They now get terribly excited when any single Tado-controlled one demands heat, transforming into miniature furnaces during such periods. A harsh lesson that you need to be all-in on this smart home stuff. So… we’re planning to buy more. I’m then fully expecting one day for them all to without warning simultaneously shut down and yet mystifyingly start streaming Rick Astley.
And those Christmas lights? They’re dumb appliances too. One set resets every time the smart plug it’s connected to turns on, dazzling neighbours with stupid animations until I prod a tiny button precisely seven times. Clearly, there’s a very obvious solution. But the thought of spending a pile of cash on smart Christmas lights that will inevitably start arguing with my router feels a bit too reminiscent of a socks spin cycle situation.
Maybe next year.