That Empty Feeling in the Room
Look, I’ve been covering tech for a long, long time. Fifteen years, give or take a few mental breakdowns during product launches. And I’ve seen every flavor of future vision, from jetpacks that never quite flew to VR that still makes me dizzy. But CES 2026, man, it hit different. Engadget called it a “lonely vision,” and you know what? They weren’t wrong. Not even a little bit.
It wasn’t just about the gadgets, though there were plenty of those. It was about what those gadgets implied. Everything was so… automated. So streamlined. So efficient. We’re talking smart kitchens that order your groceries, cook your meals, and probably even judge your culinary choices without you lifting a finger. Smart homes that manage climate, lighting, security-everything-based on “optimal” conditions, not necessarily what you, a messy, unpredictable human, actually want.
And the robots? Oh, the robots. Service bots everywhere. Cleaning bots, delivery bots, companion bots that seem designed to fill the void left by, I don’t know, actual human connection. It felt like the entire show was a giant advertisement for a world where you’re not just optional, you’re almost… an inconvenience. A glitch in the system. Like, “Hey, we’ve perfected everything, just gotta figure out what to do with these squishy, emotional things that keep messing up the algorithms.”
Who is This For, Exactly?
I mean, seriously, who is this utopian (or dystopian, depending on your vibe) future being built for? Is it for us? The people who actually buy this stuff? Or is it for the corporations who want to cut costs, maximize efficiency, and basically remove the human element from every possible equation? Call me cynical, but I’ve seen this pattern before. It usually ends with a lot of people out of jobs and a few people getting very, very rich. And honestly, it leaves me a bit cold.
But Wait, What About Us?
The thing is, we’ve always been told technology is supposed to make our lives easier. More fulfilling. But when “easier” means “you don’t have to do anything,” and “more fulfilling” means “a robot will remind you to hydrate,” I gotta ask, are we actually winning here? Is this progress? Or is it just… surrender?
“It feels like we’re being nudged, gently but firmly, towards a future where our primary role is to consume, while the machines handle all the inconvenient bits of living. A future where autonomy isn’t about human freedom, but machine independence.”
It’s not just about the loss of manual labor, though that’s a huge part of it. It’s about the erosion of purpose. If everything is done for us, by things that are objectively better at it, faster, cleaner, without complaint-what’s left for us? Are we just going to sit around watching Netflix and getting our brain chemistry tweaked by personalized algorithms while the world hums along without our messy, inefficient input?
The Real Cost of Convenience
This isn’t some sci-fi movie where robots suddenly turn evil and enslave us. This is much more insidious. It’s a slow, quiet fade. A gradual disengagement. We’re talking about smart cities designed for optimal traffic flow, but maybe not for spontaneous street art. Homes that predict your needs, but maybe don’t allow for the joy of discovering something new. Jobs replaced not by a malevolent AI, but by a well-meaning algorithm that just does it better.
And honestly, from what I can tell, nobody at CES seemed to be asking the bigger questions. It was all about the how – how to make it faster, smarter, more connected. But not the why – why are we doing this? What’s the human cost? What are we giving up for all this sleek, automated perfection? I’m not some luddite, I promise. I love my smartphone, I do. But there’s a line, you know? There’s a point where convenience starts to eat away at agency.
What This Actually Means
Here’s the brutal truth: this “lonely vision” isn’t just some hypothetical future. It’s already being built, brick by digital brick. It’s in every smart speaker, every automated checkout, every algorithm that decides what you see, hear, and even think you want. And if we don’t start asking some hard questions, like what role do humans play in this future, or is efficiency always the highest good, we’re going to wake up one day and realize we’ve been engineered right out of our own lives.
We’re talking about a future where everything works. Perfectly. But what if “working perfectly” means it doesn’t need us to make it work? What if it doesn’t need our creativity, our flaws, our beautiful, messy humanity? And if that’s the case, what the hell are we doing here? Just something to think about next time your smart fridge orders your milk without asking.
