Last year about this time, I learned at a real estate agent’s talk that no one will want to buy my house because it’s too old. There are lots of repairs and updating projects that need to be done, and today’s 30- to 40-year-old buyers are busy; they want a house in move-in condition. I was just becoming resigned to that fact, and now I have learned that not only is my house too old, it’s also too stupid.
According to a recent Boston Globe article, millennials like Trevor and Tiffany want smart houses that will connect them to the “internet of things.” I can see them not wanting to do “projects,” like refinishing badly scuffed hardwood floors, patching cracked plaster, or hauling granite slabs into the kitchen, but can’t they hook themselves up to what they want? Aren’t they supposed to know all about digital stuff? Can’t they make my house smart when they get here?
Well, no, they can’t—or they don’t want to. They want the high-tech features already in place. There has to be internet access and a smart thermostat for controlling heating and air conditioning. My house is good on this; it has internet, and the thermostat is smart enough to know that its job of adequately heating an entire 200-year-old house is impossible and that the smart windows provide air conditioning—all year long.
In addition, the article says, the house must have at least two or more networked systems—smart lighting or a smart washing machine or audio system. I’m not sure what smart lighting is. (The picture of a lightbulb over the head of a comic book character who’s just had an idea comes to mind.) Is it the ability to control all the lights from one place? When one smart light goes on, all others in the house do, too? Whichever, I don’t have it. I turn on one light at a time and grope in the dark from one to another. And a smart washing machine? What does it know about 30 years of washing clothes that my old Maytag doesn’t? Audio system? What happened to yelling from four rooms away—or turning up the music to reach the whole house at once? Earlier generations knew how to do these things.
But according to the article, I shouldn’t despair. For a mere $1,000, I can give my house a brain transplant. I just buy a smart-home staging kit, pay someone to install some devices, and voila, I’ll have buyers lining up around the block.
The kit includes a Nest Learning Thermostat—how cozy sounding—as well as smoke alarm and indoor security camera. I already have the latter two; maybe my house isn’t so dumb after all. Well, but, there’s also a smart door-lock system and a remotely controlled lighting system. I guess there are advantages to being able to lock a door or turn on lights from your workplace, or on the ride home, or from a vacation spot. But why couldn’t you just wait until you got home? If it’s burglars you’re trying to deter, the police could go lock your door if you forgot, and I imagine robbers are smart enough not to be fooled by the suddenly illumined house when they saw nobody come home.
But all right—say I get the kit, and my house has now had its IQ improved. The article says that my home’s curb appeal has been boosted by adding smart features. How? Does the house suddenly look more intelligent to someone driving by? Does the kit come with a “Smart House” sign that I tack up by the front door? Wouldn’t that look presumptuous, as though my house thinks it’s superior to the houses around, implying they are all dumb houses?
So then, Trevor and Tiffany, presumably attracted by the smartness of my home, make an offer. The article informs me that as the seller of a smart house, I need to hit the reset button on everything that contains a password or other sensitive information. Hmmm, all those things in that kit. This will be difficult, as I know from experience that changing a password requires that you remember what your old one was. And I have no idea how to “upgrade a router” or “return a device to its factory setting.” Fortunately my phone is also dumb, so I wouldn’t have to worry about reviewing “cookies, Bluetooth, and microphone.”
But for me, making my house smart is just too big a “project.” Hopefully, by the time my house goes up for sale, the global network of billions of simple digital devices will have proven too overwhelming or dehumanizing and it will be OK for houses to be both old and dumb again.
