Hey, house, fetch my slippers and throw on some Coltrane . . .
By Yvonne Abraham, Globe Staff, 05/06/99
Ubiquitous computing.
Like the watchword ''plastics'' whispered in Dustin Hoffman's ear a generation ago, this latest catch-phrase has the tech-heads buzzing.
No longer just boxes on desks or laps, computers soon will be embedded all over your house, your car - even your clothes.
Unobtrusive, perhaps, but still ubiquitous. These computers will have cameras or sensors for eyes, and microphones for ears. They will link all of the appliances in your house, and connect your house to your office computer, and to your car. And they'll get to know you, responding to - even anticipating - your needs.
In the intelligent home, you will interact with computers the same way you interact with other people - with speech and gesture, and even with body language.
Ubiquitous computing goes far beyond user-friendly: This stuff is downright sycophantic.
''What we're talking about here is not just something that makes dinner for you or a robot that vacuums, because computers will be more useful, and they'll get their hands on everything that we do,'' says Michael Coen of the Artificial Intelligence Lab at Massachusetts Institute of Technology. ''From running a bath at the right temperature, to letting you know who's in your house, or who has borrowed one of your books.
''It promises a revolution in quality of life the way indoor plumbing or the light bulb did. It rivals those in changing the way people live.''
''If you're depressed, if you come home in the middle of the day and ask the room to shut the blinds and turn off the lights and you're not moving, it indicates you're interested in somber music,'' says Coen, who runs a project called The Intelligent Room, partly funded by the Department of Defense. ''It will know you're probably not interested in listening to swing.''
The intelligent home will recognize its occupants and act accordingly: Kitchen cabinets will lock automatically when toddlers go near them. If the house detects an elderly occupant lying on the floor, it will immediately call for an ambulance. If you watch David Letterman's monologue every night, but are stuck at an endless dinner party, the embedded computers will automatically record it for you. If you like to jump in the Jacuzzi at 9 every evening, it will be bubbling at 8:55 p.m.
''If I've lost my keys, I would simply like to ask the room, and it will have seen me put my keys down, and it can tell me where they are,'' says Coen.
In the kitchen, even garbage cans might contain embedded computers that will know what empty packages you're throwing away and re-order products for you via a link to the supermarket. Over time, it might learn how long it takes for you to consume certain foods, so that an order for more is placed even before you throw the old package away.
In the new world, teenagers will lose big, but, hey, somebody has to. It is already possible for a home security system to snap a picture of latch-key kids returning from school and automatically e-mail it to anxious parents at the office. But intelligent homes will go further, contacting you when you're out of town to tell you your 16-year-old has 200 of her closest friends over.
ufpibox
Sounds great, eh? But let's be realistic: How will the average Jane, who, let's face it, can barely program her own VCR, teach an entire house full of computers about her penchants?
She won't have to.
That's perhaps the most remarkable thing about ubiquitous computing: After an initial set-up by somebody who knows what she's doing, the computers will learn for themselves.
Michael Mozer's house is getting to know him. The computer science professor at the University of Colorado at Boulder lives in a 90-year-old converted three-room schoolhouse on a prairie near the campus. In the early '90s, he and his students installed five miles of conductor wire and 75 sensors in the house.
After several years of ''watching'' him, Mozer's house has learned his habits. It knows when he is most likely to be at home, what rooms he uses at different times of the day, and how much light and heat he prefers in each. Its default setting is to use as little energy as possible, until Mozer teaches it differently.
''It learns my habits,'' says Mozer. ''I live in the house as an ordinary person would. If I'm cold, I turn up the thermostat. Every time I perform one of those [manual] actions, the house punishes itself: 'I should have anticipated that,' and learns for the next time.''
Many people would like to think their lives are less predictable than that. But, Mozer says, even the most exciting person has subtle patterns on which the computer, using hundreds of examples, can easily pick up: If one goes to bed later than usual, for instance, one likely wakes up later than usual.
And in the future, his preferences will be transportable. ''It would be nice to turn up in a hotel room and have it know who I was,'' he says. ''My house could transmit my parameters to the hotel room, and I wouldn't have to fumble to find CNN like I always do.''
Mozer says he's gotten to like his house, and even to let it tell him what to do sometimes.
''It's easy to anthropomorphize it,'' he says. ''It knows my preferences, it knows my schedules. Sometimes, when it indicates it's time for me to go to bed, I'll oblige it.''
So how long before this brave new world comes to your living room?
Well, in the giant house of - who else? - computer magnate Bill Gates, some of this is already up and running. Visitors are asked a few questions about their tastes, pinned with a nifty electronic badge, then sent off to wander the house. When they enter a room, works by the artist of their choice appear on high-resolution TV screens, and their favorite music begins playing. And the all-seeing, all-knowing computer follows them wherever they go. Gates always knows where his guests are, because the pins work like homing devices. If the visitor has a call, only the telephone closest to him will ring.
Even for those who don't have $60 billion, Coen says this brave new world will be here sooner than you might think. ''Probably 10 or 15 years away, but not further than that,'' he says. And, Mozer says, new homes are being built now with IBM network wiring that, for a couple of thousand dollars, will allow ubiquitous computing to just slide right into them when it becomes widely available.
Look for ubiquitous computing to show up in cars first. Some vehicles are already equipped with navigation systems, but they're pretty primitive compared to what's being developed by companies like Motorola. Pretty soon, says Brian McCalley, market development manger for driver information systems at Motorola, in Austin, Texas, a small screen where the car radio is now will display a map if you're lost, and help you find the closest Thai restaurant if you're hungry. It will read your e-mail to you and help schedule your appointments.
''You get all little pockets of things, and then one day, all of a sudden, they're all connected,'' McCalley says.
Then there are the myriad possibilities for personalizing the car itself, in the way Mozer's and Coen's work tailors homes to its occupants. Before you get into your car, it will recognize you and customize the seats, mirrors, steering wheels and radio to your height, your - ahem - breadth, your favorite stations. Parents will be able to program the car so that speed is limited when teenagers drive it. McCally says the car will even be able to tell you in great detail when something is wrong, and show you - with video, if necessary - how to fix it.
McCalley says some of this technology will show up in cars as early as 2001. Folks are usually more techno-minded about their vehicles anyway. ''It's a status symbol to have technology in your car,'' says Coen.
But he says it won't be long before it spreads further.
''Walking into rooms that don't respond to your being there in 20 years will feel like walking into a log cabin,'' says Coen. ''It will feel like going into a hut in a Third World country.''
Or living in a world without plastic.
Yvonne Abraham is a staff reporter for the Globe.
