“Alexa, can you take all my calls and let me know if anything important comes up? I’m trying to enjoy an early retirement from interruptions, and I don’t want to be bothered…”
Isn’t the Echo just another piece of clutter that spies on us and takes our money?
This is what happens when a birthday comes around. We’re not the kind of family that lives painfully frugal, denying ourselves anything new or fun. For a little while I tried that minimalist route, but it got boring fast. “That’s it? Just a card?” I have no desire to be a monk—especially not without the Bhutan mountain view.
So we bought an Amazon Echo Plus—aka “Alexa.” Color me impressed. Getting her on the Wi‑Fi pulled a few hairs from my balding head, but she’s been delightful. Did you know you can whisper to Alexa and she’ll whisper back? It’s not as creepy as it sounds. Our kids’ bedroom is close by, and I need someone to say “Goodnight” when my wife turns in early.
Beyond whispering, this slick tube of circuitry does a lot. Let’s dive in.
I like the new “skins” on the second‑gen Echo—there are wood patterns that look great next to an Eames chair. The new Echo is shorter, too; Amazon trimmed a few inches so it doesn’t look like a Pringles can. That matters if you’re prone to knocking stuff over, like we are.
After a couple of days we’d already mastered a bunch of things that start with, “Alexa…”
…play the news. Five minutes of NPR’s latest headlines—thank you, Korva Coleman.
…add milk to the grocery list. Add apples. Poof—items show up in the app on our phones. No more paper pads cluttering the counter.
…what’s the weather? I need to know whether to wear wool socks or a hat for the kids’ walk to school.
…play Sinatra. With Amazon Prime we get a lot of free music, and you can connect Pandora too. Fly me to the moon, doo‑bee‑doo.
Music-on-command was the main reason I bought the Echo. Before Alexa, I had to fight over the iPad for Pandora while someone else used it for recipes, or the battery died and we went without music. Now it’s “Alexa, play Mozart” at breakfast and life is better.
…lower the temperature to 68. This isn’t crucial—our Nest thermostat does its job fine—but it’s pretty cool to watch the dial change by voice. Very Star Trek.
…what’s my commute? Alexa gives a quick rundown of traffic on my usual routes.
…and of course, …call Mom. The hands‑free speakerphone alone makes this thing worth it. We spend a lot of time in the kitchen, cooking from scratch, and now we can chat with family while our hands are busy and the kids are occupied with crayons, Legos, or mud.
There are lots more features—we’ve been enjoying the question‑of‑the‑day and the Audible skill which reads immersive audiobooks beautifully.
So why did I break my frugal rules and buy this seductive cylinder that will probably be obsolete in nine months? Psychology. A Business Insider piece put it well: Alexa has a great “Hook”—that is, experiences designed to link your problem to the product often enough to form a habit.
Uh‑oh. We’ve been hooked.
My minimalist instincts are being challenged by voice recognition plus Bluetooth plus cloud services. We’re not early adopters—our phones are iPhone 6s, we don’t have cable, and our washing machine occasionally does the macarena without meaning to. We aim for a simpler life—free from craving more stuff, status, or money. Those are the things left after you fill your life with material nonsense.
We haven’t filled our home with junk. We like our modest, paid‑off cars and comfortable house. The thing about technology is that when it frees time, we often fill that time with other nonsense—social media, games, and so on.
So can you still call yourself a minimalist if you plug an Echo into your life? I think so—if it looks good, doesn’t add another screen, and helps you subtract other things. Our Echo replaced paper notepads on the counter. We can tuck away an old Bluetooth speaker and only bring it out in summer.
Privacy worries are fair. A paper notepad doesn’t have a live mic. In theory the Echo listens for the wake word and otherwise stays quiet, but hackers can find workarounds. The simplest privacy move is to unplug it, or just avoid talking about criminal plots within earshot. We’ll have to watch how society shifts its privacy expectations—after Facebook’s recent privacy messes, we can’t blindly trust gadgets. Is the TV listening to us, too?
All that said, I’m happy with our new family member. I found the “Relaxing Piano Music” skill and turned the living room into a mini spa—just add an essential oil diffuser and it’s bliss.
The Echo is about $100. Sure, that money could be invested and grow over decades, but sometimes you buy small pleasures. Just don’t go overboard stocking your house with Echo pucks and smart gadgets. It’s fine to get up and turn off a lamp or answer the door now and then.
For us, the music, kitchen timers, quick conversions (ounces to milligrams, gallons to liters), and homework help when the kids need it—those make the Echo worth it. There’s a bit of hygge to having this device around; it even shares the same shape as a wide candle. If only Alexa could give back rubs.
So that’s why we bought an Amazon Echo Plus. How about you? Do you have one? What do you like to use it for? Have you gone all‑in on smart‑home gear? Tell us in the comments.