And here's me thinking Bluetooth is what sheep suffer when grazing on't moor in January….
I think a lot of it driven by an insatiable desire in enough people to make it worth exploiting, to want only ever the Very Latest, the Most Up-Grades, most technical-looking, and the like.
A friend whose hobbies include photography told me years ago of fellow camera club members whose photography was good but never outstanding. Now, my mate had some eye-wateringly costly stuff with names like Hasselblad, but he explained that he bought the best equipment he could afford, then used it consistently for many years. Those others though, would be forever chasing the latest, the newest, the extra shutter-speed or shiny chromed button. Consequently they never became sufficiently accustomed to the camera to know how the scene in its view-finder would appear in emulsion.
Perhaps the same is happening here. Although a washing-machine is just that – though use the wrong setting and your blue workshop overalls will turn a pretty purple from the dye it's run from the other-half's red ball-gown – some people would regard some 20 settings as vital. I think mine has that range – only because it was pretty much standard on what was available. Their makers have latched onto the gadget-conscious rather than the discerning or the practical, and found it profitable.
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Others have told me of having been eavesdropped by so-called "smart" speakers: talking about something then mysteriously receiving advertisements thought "of interest". And it is eavesdropping, cynical, wilful listening-in to private conversations, albeit by a computer programmed to detect particular words. Companies like Google know enough people do not realise or do not care about it, to more than compensate for those of us who try to refuse to kowtow to the company.
I don't use Google now, which also means I cannot see YouTube videos. The reason? Google places an access barrier designed very carefully to make you toe their line.
I try to avoid helping these parasites – and the criminals, come to that. My 3G, very basic portable 'phone is not connected to the Internet. It spends more time off than on – anyone tracing it in 2019 might have wondered how or why I was suddenly in a rural village 300 miles from home, for just 10 minutes. I have no "wi-fi" devices – this PC is on a broadband line and even the pointer is wired. No "smart-speaker". No radio-controlled washing-machine or toothbrush…
No intention of having them, either.
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The teenage girls two doors along were getting cabin-fever in last Summer's lock-downs. Occasionally they regaled me, in my workshop with the door open, with "Alexa! Play xxx.! " followed by short bits of the dreariest dirges going but no doubt Top of the Pops. Rarely right through, before poor Alexa was nagged into playing another. I felt like yelling across the intervening garden, "Alexa! Play Sibelius' Fifth" or something. Or "Alexa! Go to sleep!"