Is it really too much effort to extend one’s arm to flick a switch? Or is this an over-engineered solution to a non-existent problem? Photo: DragonImages.
In a family, it’s normal to fight over silly things.
Growing up, I remember an early morning all-in family brawl over which side of the chopping board the margarine should sit.
Often, these arguments aren’t really about margarine. If you follow their roots, they typically trace back to some larger conflict left untreated. Or perhaps an unrelated source of stress, lack of sleep or good ol’ hormones.
But there is one recurring “silly” disagreement in my household which is definitely about the one specific, seemingly minor thing.
One by one, every power point in my home has developed a growth.
These ominous upgrades evolve our power points into “smart” switches and suddenly – without due diligence – all of our lights are controlled via app.
I’m not allowed to touch the light switches anymore. No, that is frowned upon. Instead, I’m to reach for my phone yet again.
I’m told these mutations are helpful, convenient and make light switches obsolete.
But I wasn’t aware light switches were a problem which required streamlining?
On my list of daily pain points – admittedly, a long register of complaints – light switches have not been mentioned once.
I’ll tell you what often tops the list though: Bloody technology.
I’m not a total luddite. I enjoy a new-fangled gizmo or flash doohicky as much as the next person.
But I question whether we’re over-engineering like … everything.
I recently upgraded from driving my father’s old 2013 Ford Territory to a 2024 Kia Sorrento and was enamoured with its bells and whistles (nothing makes you sound old quite like the phrase bells and whistles, does it?).
Automatic boot opening is a modern mum’s knight in shining armour. The “heads up display”, projecting speed limits into my eyeline, saves my speeding fine budget and makes the world a safer place. And with more cameras and sensors than the Louvre, my new car almost never gets a little nibble of kerb.
That said, when I first fronted its complex controls, it felt like I was learning to fly aircraft. Its alarmist lane assist is an intermittent red-hot poker to my brain and if I indicate when there’s so much as a light wind beside me the car has a complete coronary.
For a time, I wore a smart watch. Though we developed an unhealthy relationship, it felt controlling and its insistent wrist-buzzing gave me sensory ick. I eventually tore it off in a dramatic show of liberation.
I had an e-reader once. Though admittedly when it ran out of battery, I simply picked up a book. And never looked back.
Certainly, new tech beams me up with its novelty factor, but to have staying power it’s got to be genuinely useful.
I like to consider where we apply “enhanced” technology, rather than slap it on anything that stays still long enough.
Like completely innocent light switches.
Back in our house and our silly argument – which is definitely not a manifestation of a more deep-seated concern – my husband and I fundamentally disagree on the value of lighting controlled via app.
He, an evil dictator driven mad by an endless pursuit of control, likes to create lighting schedules, control colours and hues and tell Alexa to turn things on/off like hired help.
Me? I’m just a simple farm girl with my feet on the ground who likes to get my hands dirty by pressin’ buttons and flickin’ switches.
If I was to tear back the layers of this silly argument, at its core I might find a big part of my problem is I’m sick of asking “where’s my phone?” 100 times a day.
The damn thing is in charge around here, but wanders off like it hasn’t a care in the world.
Light switches, for all their shortcomings, have never once abandoned me before eventually being discovered on a washing basket, a forgotten shelf, or the top of a toilet cistern.
They also don’t require logins, subscriptions or batteries.
Yes, light switches are nothing if not reliable. If you ask me, app-controlled lighting is yet another technological novelty.
Like the disused e-reader gathering dust on my bottom shelf, “smart” lighting is just another example of technology intended to enlighten, which is ultimately a bit dim.
Original Article published by Hayley Nicholls on Region Canberra.
