A Magical Scenario
Apple is set to announce the "Siri speaker." What might happen in a home that embraces this amazing device?
Jason Snell, former editor of MacWorld, is a very fine journalist who has been covering Apple for decades. A couple weeks ago, he posted his best guess of how Apple would announce a “Siri speaker” (an announcement that may well happen this coming Monday, 5 June). He called it “speculation, analysis, and a little bit of fan fiction all in one.”
Snell does a good job of channeling the Apple-exec diction that’s become so familiar from a couple decades of keynotes: “an amazing new product … sound so rich that it can fill a room … eight beam-forming microphones and a powerful signal processor embedded into the new Apple H1 chip.”
But the heart of his little essay is a treatment for a product video showing how the “Apple Home” would help a typical suburban family … well, help them do what exactly? Take a look—first at Snell’s treatment, presented without commentary, and then with some notes.
As the camera moves in so close that we can only see the screen itself, we hear the voice of a teenager.
“Hey Siri, play Green Light.”
“Green Light” by Lorde begins to play as the camera swoops back, revealing that the white room has been replaced by a home setting. There’s a kitchen table with parents sitting drinking coffee and looking at an iPad and iPhone, as well as a teenager and a younger child eating breakfast. The teenager is moving along to the music, as we zoom in to see a Now Playing screen on the device displaying the song’s lyrics as they’re being sung.
One parent says: “Hey Siri, are the Giants playing today?”
The music fades back and a card comes up on the device screen showing the information, as the familiar voice says, “The Giants play the Milwaukee Brewers today at 4:40pm.”
The parent says, “Remind me before the game starts?”
Siri replies: “Ok, I’ve added a reminder to your calendar for 4:40 pm today.”
“Hey Siri,” demands the younger child. “Turn on the lights!”
All the lights in the room turn on, very bright. A parent grumbles.
“Hey Siri, make the lights dimmer,” says that parent.
The lights dim. The child pouts. But before she can say anything, there’s a familiar chime from the device.
“Traffic is heavy today,” Siri says. “You’ll need to leave soon to get to your first appointment at 9:15 am.” A parent groans and gets up and leaves the table.
The kids at the table smile. The teenager says, “Hey Siri, make the lights green.” The kitchen lights flood the table in green as we hear a climactic chorus of Lorde’s “Green Light.”
Fade to white. “Apple Home” appears on screen. Fade out. The room lights come up, and there’s loud applause.
Wow. Loud applause! (And it’s only $349.)
Let’s look at the elements of this picture—written by Snell, remember, as “fan fiction” to imagine the best possible introduction of a new product.
As the camera moves in so close that we can only see the screen itself, we hear the voice of a teenager.
“Hey Siri, play Green Light.”
“Green Light” by Lorde begins to play as the camera swoops back, revealing that the white room has been replaced by a home setting. There’s a kitchen table with parents sitting drinking coffee and looking at an iPad and iPhone, as well as a teenager and a younger child eating breakfast. The teenager is moving along to the music, as we zoom in to see a Now Playing screen on the device displaying the song’s lyrics as they’re being sung.
It’s always great to begin your day with a song about betrayal, loss, and aching desire for the person who caused the betrayal and loss (not to mention the awkward situation of having left most of your possessions in the apartment you shared with that person, and trying to figure out how to go back and get them). I’m glad the “younger child” will get to read lyrics on the Now Playing screen like, “Sometimes I wake up in a different bedroom,” and, “Did it frighten you / How we kissed when we danced on the light up floor?”
But I get it—teenagers love this sort of drama. And hey, the lyrics could be a lot worse.
What’s actually more striking here is the parents. As the kids groove to Lorde, the parents are absorbed in their iPad and iPhone (one each, I assume—or maybe they’re multitasking).
Do you know the number one thing that teenagers wish were different in their relationship with their parents (according to Barna Group research we presented in The Tech-Wise Family)?
They wish their parents would spend less time on their phones and more time talking to them.
One parent says: “Hey Siri, are the Giants playing today?”
The music fades back and a card comes up on the device screen showing the information, as the familiar voice says, “The Giants play the Milwaukee Brewers today at 4:40pm.”
The parent says, “Remind me before the game starts?”
Siri replies: “Ok, I’ve added a reminder to your calendar for 4:40 pm today.”
Rest, defined: the glad and satisfied contemplation that comes at the end of good work.
Leisure, defined: inactivity, ideally pleasurable, that is disconnected from embodiment and relationship, and usually depends on another’s work or toil.
At 4:40 p.m., courtesy of the hardworking Giants and Brewers, this parent (and maybe others in the family) will get to enjoy a bit of leisure.
“Hey Siri,” demands the younger child. “Turn on the lights!”
All the lights in the room turn on, very bright. A parent grumbles.
“Hey Siri, make the lights dimmer,” says that parent.
The lights dim. The child pouts.
A cute family squabble! Or a Nietzschean struggle for dominance, won by the bigger person with the louder voice. Depending on how you look at it. In any case, they are carrying out the conflict by talking to a computer. Instead of to one another. This will be great material for therapy sessions in the future.
But before she can say anything, there’s a familiar chime from the device.
“Traffic is heavy today,” Siri says. “You’ll need to leave soon to get to your first appointment at 9:15 am.” A parent groans and gets up and leaves the table.
What a fulfilling day is clearly ahead for this parent. (Slightly weird how none of these parents or children in Snell’s scenario have genders, by the way, but I guess we can fill them in for ourselves.) How much the children must admire their mom or dad and hope to be like them someday! They certainly exemplify, in this brief vignette, the deep love and creativity of which image bearers of God are capable.
Sorry. Fan fiction tends to make me sarcastic for some reason.
The kids at the table smile. The teenager says, “Hey Siri, make the lights green.” The kitchen lights flood the table in green as we hear a climactic chorus of Lorde’s “Green Light.”
Ah, so in the parents’ absence, the kids win the struggle for Nietzschean dominance after all.
Fade to white. “Apple Home” appears on screen. Fade out. The room lights come up, and there’s loud applause.
“Loud applause”—for alienation, toil, and a bit of anticipated leisure at the end of the day. (The Giants, by the way, are 22-33 so far this season.)
There is only one genuinely creative person in this entire scenario—and it’s Lorde. Who is trying to figure out how to get her things back from her ex-lover’s apartment. All the real people—parents and children alike—are simply pushing buttons to try to gain a little bit of leisure or minimize toil (but sorry, traffic is heavy today). And from start to finish—I had to read it again to confirm this, it was so hard to believe this was actually true—not one of those family members says one word to another.
The Sorcerer’s Apprentice came upon a magic broom which he thought would make his life easy. It ended up making his life miserable.
In that sense, this is indeed a magical scenario.