Sirius Cybernetics Corporation - Safe For Now

A surprising number of people say to me, “What’s your take on domestic robots?”

They do this because I outed myself as a robot-vacuum-cleaner owner a while ago and people want to know how it‘s going.

Owning a robot vacuum has almost nothing to do with an obsessive cleaning compulsion, but a lot more to do with me being disappointed that I don’t take holidays on the moon or go to work riding a jetpack. My science fiction future just never eventuated and I eke these little bits of future-joy from wherever possible. (Also, if you are proper OCD about cleaning, a little robot vacuum is going to suck at sucking.)

Rather than giving advice on which model to buy based on electronic room-mapping or randomised, bump-turns to room volumes, I like to illustrate the state of the art with the following:

One day, I came home and was startled to see the balcony door open. I quickly went through the house to check if all the important stuff was still there. Telly. Check. Phew. Computer. Check. Sigh. Emergency Contact. Not there. Let’s put that on the backburner for now. Stay focused and frosty. Laptop. Check. Phew.

I couldn’t see anything amiss and just put it down to one of us absentmindedly stepping out and leaving the balcony door ajar and the wind did the rest.

Several days later, I was emptying the robot vacuum and it had sticks and leaves in the hopper. Pieces fell into place and I realised that robot had pushed the door open and gone out onto the balcony to loyally go about his cleaning business, vacuuming a cement, outdoor surface.

I was impressed. It showed that the sensors supposed to stop him from throwing himself down a flight of stairs, really work. The bottom of the railing on the balcony is way too high to have stopped him from going over the edge, so it was only his little, downward-pointing, electronic eyes that gave him vertigo. I do like to imagine what the suicide note would say if did chuck himself off, though. “Don’t blame yourself. I just wasn’t cut out for the domestic life.”

Anyway, he dragged himself back inside, over the door-snake and took himself back to his little dock to charge up and doubtlessly get a little indigestion from the surprising meal he’d had - And this is really where we are at with domestic robots.

He left the door open. He spent time vacuuming something he shouldn’t. He can’t reach up and do the cobwebs between the bookcases. He drags a sock around for a while, gets it hooked on the telephone lead, pulls the telephone off the shelf and then pushes it under the telly. Then, with a triumphant whistle, scoots off and gets baffled by a rug with tassels.

And most importantly, robot vacuums don’t save any time whatsoever. If you’re like me, you have to follow and watch the little thing doing his stuff ‘cause it’s so damn cute.