CES is famous for grand ideas. This year also showed how far makers will go to fix problems no one has. My view is simple: too much tech is performative, overbuilt, and wasteful. That was the throughline of one creator’s tour of ten head-scratching gadgets—and it tracks with what many of us feel.
When “Because We Can” Replaces “Why”
Matt’s walk through the show floor offered a blunt picture. Much of what passed for invention looked like a joke that escaped a whiteboard. A revived RadioShack peddling the same low-end knickknacks. A tripod for your tote bag. A knife that needs a charging dock.
“Solutions looking for problems that don’t actually exist.”
That line set the tone. I agree. The trend isn’t harmless; it crowds out useful work and adds junk to our lives and landfills.
Exhibits A Through J
Some products felt like satire. The Mojo Riser Go Plus is a collapsible stand that lifts your bag 14 inches. Price: up to $150. The point—keep your bag off the floor—has low-tech answers: a hook, a chair, the shoulder you were born with.
“Bag stands for all lifestyles.”
The Seattle Ultrasonics C200 is a $399 vibrating kitchen knife (or $499 with a wireless charging dock). The pitch claims 50% less effort. But you can’t see, hear, or feel the vibration. Sharpening a regular knife still wins on cost, safety, and common sense.
Then came Odoki’s “Handy,” an automated corn-buttering device with app control, sync features, and “turbo mode.” It reads like parody, priced up to $499. If you need a tripod mount to butter corn, the problem isn’t the corn.
Some “overkill” is pure spectacle. The Body Friend 733 is a $20,000 massage chair with 733 parts, PNF stretching, and hero-movie color schemes. It even simulates walking. Cool demo, sure. But who asked for a robot to puppeteer your limbs in your living room?
On the hygiene front, Tesonic’s Air Max is a motorized doormat with a 280W vacuum and a claimed 90% dust capture rate. Clean rooms at big firms use it. For home users, a $20 mat plus a habit works fine. We keep electrifying solved tasks because it looks like progress.
JS Bionic Robots showed human-like figures with “bionic skin” and custom faces. Use cases were vague—reception, companionship, or staged presence. Without clear purpose, they risk becoming props in search of a job, not tools that solve real needs.
Lollipop Star turned candy into a single-use bone-conduction speaker. $9, one track, then straight to the trash—battery and all. Embedding electronics in disposable sugar is a master class in e-waste.
3D Desk angled every surface, then required special mounts and lots of space. It’s a fix that creates fresh hassles. The supposed gain in posture meets rolling pens and sliding mugs.
Finally, a TENS-based “more patch” promised focus and productivity, applied in a very private location. It’s FDA cleared, the maker says. But the placement and pitch invite more jokes than trust.
What These Miss—and How To Judge Better
Matt’s tour wasn’t only dunking. It hinted at a simple test for useful design.
- Does it solve a real, frequent problem?
- Is it easier, cheaper, or safer than what exists?
- Does it reduce waste and maintenance, not add more?
- Can the benefit be felt without a sales pitch?
- Would you buy it again after the novelty wears off?
When a $9 lollipop is also a battery, when a knife needs wireless charging, when a tote bag sits on a tripod, the answers get ugly.
Yes, There Are Edge Cases—But They Don’t Save the Trend
Clean-room doormats? Valid. Medical-grade massage systems? In clinics, maybe. Still, the consumer pitch too often confuses spectacle with service. The issue is not fun—it’s waste. The world doesn’t need more chargers, more docks, and more plastic for tiny, single-use “wow.”
“Just because you can make something doesn’t mean you should.”
That’s the lesson. And I share it.
The Better Path
What would progress look like? Focus on repairable tools. Simple upgrades that work on day one. Clear use cases and honest math on cost and trash. Keep quirky ideas, but ship fewer gimmicks.
My take: Elevate restraint. Fund fewer novelties. Back teams that fix real pain, cut waste, and respect our time.
As for me, I’ll cheer the basics that still win—the sharp knife, the plain doormat, the hook on the wall.
Call to action: Reward products that solve real problems. Ask harder questions before you buy. Tell brands that e-waste disguised as candy won’t fly. Let’s push for useful tech, not louder tech.
Frequently Asked Questions
Q: How can I tell if a gadget solves a real problem?
Try a week-long “paper test.” Describe your problem in one sentence. If a low-tech fix works just as well, skip the gadget.
Q: Are any of the highlighted products worth it for specific users?
Some niche tools make sense in pro settings, like the motorized doormat for clean rooms. For most homes, simpler options are cheaper and just as effective.
Q: What’s the biggest concern with single-use electronic products?
Waste. Batteries and circuits in throwaway items add to disposal problems. Look for reusable designs and published recycling paths.
Q: How should companies pitch experimental ideas without wasting resources?
Start with clear use cases, small pilot groups, repairable builds, and honest lifetime cost. If value is real, word of mouth will do the rest.
Q: What can consumers do to support better design?
Buy durable goods. Favor items with replaceable parts and long warranties. Give feedback. Tell brands you’ll pay for substance, not flash.
