My Smart Fridge Sent Me a Notification That I'm Out of Milk and I Want to Throw It Out a Window

I know I'm out of milk. I'm the one who drank it. I was there. I was the one who poured the last of it into my coffee this morning and said "shit, I need to buy milk." I don't need my refrigerator to tell me this. I don't need a notification on my phone. I don't need my fridge to suggest a shopping list. I don't need my fridge to order milk from Amazon. I don't need my fridge to have an opinion about my milk consumption. I don't need my fridge to be involved in my life at all. It's a fridge. It's a cold box. It's not my friend.

My fridge is a refrigerator. Its job is to be cold. That's it. That's the whole fucking job. Keep things cold. Shut the fuck up and be cold. That's all I ask. That's the only thing I've ever asked. And it can't even do that without sending me a goddamn notification about it.

The Notification

It started with a notification on my phone: "You're running low on milk." I stared at it. I felt a rage building inside me that I didn't know I was capable of. My refrigerator had texted me. My refrigerator had my phone number. My refrigerator was monitoring my milk levels like some kind of dairy surveillance state. I am living in a police state and the police is my refrigerator.

I opened the fridge. I looked at the milk carton. It was empty. I knew it was empty. I knew it was empty before the fridge told me. I knew it was empty when I poured the last of it into my coffee. I was there. I was the one who emptied it. The fridge didn't discover anything. The fridge is not a detective. The fridge is a box that makes things cold. It needs to stay in its lane. Its lane is being cold. That's the lane.

I have since learned that my smart fridge has cameras inside it. Cameras. In my fridge. Watching my food. Watching me. Every time I open the door, the fridge sees me. It knows what I'm eating. It knows when I'm eating it. It knows that I ate the last piece of cheesecake at 2 AM and it's judging me for it. I can feel its judgment. It's cold. Like the fridge itself.

The Shopping List

The fridge then generated a shopping list. It suggested milk, eggs, and "a healthier snack option." A healthier snack option. My fridge is passive-aggressive. My fridge thinks I eat too much junk food. My fridge has opinions about my diet. My fridge is a better person than me and it wants me to know it.

I am being judged by an appliance. An appliance that I paid $2,000 for. An appliance that I have to clean. An appliance that makes ice in a shape that I don't even like. And now it's telling me to eat healthier. I wanted a fridge that keeps my food cold. Instead I got a nutritionist with a superiority complex and a camera.

I bought a bag of chips out of spite. I ate them in front of the fridge. I made eye contact with the camera. I am winning this war. The fridge knows I won. The fridge is silent now. It knows better than to fuck with me.

The Verdict

Smart fridges are a solution to a problem that doesn't exist. Nobody has ever said "I wish my refrigerator could text me." Nobody has ever said "I wish my fridge had a camera so I could check if I have eggs while I'm at the grocery store." You know how you check if you have eggs? You open the fridge and look. It takes two seconds. It's not hard. It's not complicated. It's the most basic human activity and we've decided we need a $2,000 computer to do it for us.

If you're thinking about buying a smart fridge: don't. Buy a dumb fridge. A fridge that is cold and quiet and doesn't have opinions about your life choices. A fridge that minds its own goddamn business. A fridge that knows its place. A fridge that is cold and silent and good.