Soundbytes: I?ll second that e-motion
We have what demographers call an ageing population. In theory, this means there will be a lot of wrinklies doting on their gardens and tidying their grandchildren. In reality, there will be a lot of grasping middle-aged people, scared stiff that gramps or nana will need years of expensive residential care and will have to sell their house to pay for it, instead of bequeathing it to their eager heirs.
These heirs-in-waiting are too busy or too important to look after gramps or nana themselves. So they need someone, or something, to do it for them. Enter BT, which has come up with the perfect solution. Gramps or nana ? or, if the old dears prefer, specific points in their house ? can be simply wired up with motion sensors. No movement means trouble. If the fridge door is not opened all day, gramps may be destined for the mortuary freezer. If nana does not draw the curtains in the morning, life may bring down the curtain on her instead. In either case, the system telephones an alarm, enabling son or daughter to get on with producing the will as quickly as is decently possible.
I forget what the service is called ? probably ?we care so you don?t have to? ? but what makes it unusual is that you can actually go out and buy it (provided you don?t mind appearing heartless).
For many years, techno-pundits have lauded the ?smart home?, where gobsmacking gadgetry and microchip marvels will make all our lives easier. Stirling Moss has apparently lived in one for decades, his every whim pandered to by obedient robots. Bill Gates? new mansion (paid for by your royalties) is said to recognise visitors by their hairstyles and play their favourite piece of music.
Now the harbingers have moved into the cyber age. In the smart home, whenever we conquer another level of Super Mario Gets Bored With It All And Retires To Live In Chipping Sodbury, or whatever the latest game is called, our console will automatically wire the kettle to make us a cuppa. We shall know we have not run out of milk, because as well as checking up on gramps, smart fridges will read the bar-codes of everything we eat and drink, and automatically wire the supermarket for replacements.
If we have to get up in the night, the house will automatically illuminate the way to the loo (even if we are not going there). If we are worried about the amount of time our teenage progeny spend powdering their noses, we shall program the bathroom to open its doors automatically and flush out the incumbent after a set period (rather like those French super-loos that were all the rage a few years ago).
When we are old, intelligent toilets will analyse our blood sugar level, flow rate and stool consistency, and print out pretty pie charts which we can send to our grandchildren (or use next time). If the superloo detects an anomaly, it will wire our doctor, who will wire back with helpful advice: ?eat more roughage?, ?drink less beer? or maybe ?make a will, quick?.
When we leave the house, a drive by wire vehicle guidance system will reverse our car out of the garage ? the deluxe version will even open the garage door first. If we have to work late, we shall telephone the house to switch on the security lights and record the news ? or, if we are unlucky, the overrun from the golf. When we get home, our dinner will be cooked, the heating will have been on for half an hour, and Fido will be waiting with our slippers (he always has been, but who said automation will spoil the good things in life?).
Various theories are put forward what why nobody except mad inventors, bald ex-racing drivers and software moguls would actually want to live in a house like this. There are no standards, say some. There is no demand, say others. It is too difficult to use, it costs too much, there is no killer application, I have never completed a level in Super Mario. The excuses are endless.
It cannot be because we doubt the technology itself. History, as we all know, never repeats itself. So, unlike millions of PC owners, we will not have to junk our existing kettle, car, cooker or dog because they are not compatible. Attaching an LCD panel to Fido will not be easy, but the troubleshooting section will come in handy if his nose dries up or he goes off his food. Nor will there be any bugs in the software. We shall never be exposed to the mirthful gaze of our nearest and dearest while having a quick pee, drive off in our neighbour?s car, or arrive home in midsummer to find the heating full on, our dinner on the doormat and Fido in the oven.
But would you take the risk?