LG opened CES 2026 by outlining its vision to reduce the physical effort and mental burden of life. Buy enough of the devices it’s presently working on and you’ll exist in an environment of “ambient care,” coddled by the machinery in your home. It sounds positively utopian: When the sensors in your bed know you’ve not slept well and are getting a cold, a robot will wake you with a glass of freshly squeezed orange juice. When you’re in a rush to get to work, the robot will make you a sandwich for you to eat on the go, sparing you the effort of making it yourself. The more I roamed the halls of the show after that, the more I couldn’t help feeling uneasy about what so many companies here were pitching. To me, the vision of the future on show here is equal parts solitary and infantilized.
There’s obvious reasons for this: AI swallowed the tech industry’s oxygen, sapping any chance of innovation in consumer hardware. The advent of Panther Lake is a win for Intel, but it’s not going to enable dramatic changes in how people work with their PCs on a daily basis. The US policy shift away from EVs and toward fossil fuel-powered vehicles, too, means that the big names in auto manufacture have similarly shied away from the show. That left CES full of various robotics startups offering early visions of humanoid robots designed to work on production lines, take care of your home and replace your pet. I saw more than a few stands where booth attendants were pretending to delight in teaching their wheeled robot pets to play fetch. At least, I hope they were pretending.
I’m painfully aware of how many devices felt like they were only a hop, skip and a jump away from the Sharper Image catalog. Gadgets that are designed to fill some perceived hole in your life that won’t actually make things better or easier in the long run. I’m leery about denigrating assistive technology that offers a vital lifeline to people with accessibility needs. I’m also leery about knocking devices that may enable people to keep working despite wrestling with long term injuries — I’ve got one eye on the raft of exoskeletons exhibited at the show which might help me work in the garden despite the weakness in my lower back. But I’m also not quite sold on how many toilet computers, massage chairs and scootcases we all need in our daily lives.
There’s also the elephant in the room that many of these innovations seem intent on acting as a replacement, substitute or supplement for real interaction. Robotic panda bears scuttling around your home to save you the effort of caring for a real flesh-and-blood pet. Holographic AI waifus that will obsequiously respond to whatever you ask of it with nothing but flattery and agreement. The sheer volume of AI Labubus operating as friend, enemy, companion or a combination of all the above. Cuddly home robots that are little more than a tablet on a moveable base that’ll keep your kids entertained so you don’t have to. Yes, I’m being unfair, but sometimes shows like this make me sound like someone’s grandpa angrily insisting you darn kids get off your screens.
I feel some of these gadgets are specifically designed to enable a degree of detachment from our own bodies. We’re spending so much time getting dopamine from our devices that we’re no longer able to pay attention to how our bodies are feeling. In LG’s vision of the future, moving around for ourselves and making our own food is a thing of the past, which will, surely, put a dent in our physical and mental health. We lose the ability to connect with the people around us because we’ve spent too long being flattered by our AI lackeys. We need a machine to monitor the food we eat and the crap we excrete because we’re not willing to pay attention to what we’re doing. Much in the same way that AI encourages us to take shortcuts rather than enjoy the process of being creative, the rest of the tech industry seemingly wants us to shortcut the fundamentals of life.
