Summary

The author discusses their personal experience with their Roomba, Broomhilda, which they find both endearing and frustrating due to its neediness and pet-like qualities.

Abstract

The article titled "My Robot Vacuum is So Needy" by Casey Lawrence humorously explores the relationship between the author and their robot vacuum, Broomhilda. Despite its inefficiencies, such as getting stuck and failing to navigate back to its charging hub, the Roomba has become an anthropomorphized member of the household. The author, who initially hoped for a low-maintenance cleaning solution, finds themselves emotionally attached to the device, treating it almost like a pet or a child. This attachment is attributed to the Roomba's ability to trigger human affection through its movements and perceived "personality." The author acknowledges the quirks of Broomhilda, including the need for regular maintenance and the inconvenience of having to supervise its cleaning cycles, yet ultimately expresses a fondness for the robot vacuum, highlighting the complex bond that can form between humans and their appliances.

Opinions

The author has developed a fondness for their Roomba, Broomhilda, despite its shortcomings.
Broomhilda is personified and treated as a pet or a child, with the author even speaking on its behalf.
The Roomba's inability to navigate effectively and its tendency to get stuck are seen as endearing rather than purely frustrating.
The author appreciates the Roomba's ability to clean without expending their own energy, which is particularly valuable given their health limitations.
There is a sense of pride when the Roomba successfully cleans, indicating a bond that goes beyond the appliance's functionality.
The author recognizes the Roomba's maintenance needs, such as emptying its bin and cleaning its wheels, as part of the care routine, similar to that of a living creature.
The article suggests that the phenomenon of forming attachments to robot vacuums is common, citing iRobot's observations of owners naming and forming bonds with their devices.
The author encourages readers to support their work by buying them a coffee or subscribing to their Medium account, indicating the importance of reader engagement and support for their writing.

Technology

My Robot Vacuum is So Needy

It’s more like a pet than an appliance, really

Humans are hard-wired to find anything cute. Even things that don’t have a face can light up those centers of our brains that go “Awww.” My Roomba is a black disk that makes an unreasonable amount of noise as it shimmies across my floor, missing every visible dirty area. But I love her anyway.

Her name is Broomhilda and she goes beep beep.

When we decided to get a Roomba, my husband joked that I would fall in love with it. I’ve been asking for a puppy ever since we moved into an apartment that allows small pets. The Roomba is, in some ways, a bit like a pet, and at least scratches that itch in my brain that keeps asking for either a pet or a baby.

But, like a pet or a baby, Broomhilda can be annoying and requires more of my attention than I anticipated. You don’t expect your household appliances to be demanding — they’re supposed to save you time and energy, not expend it!

Broomhilda is needy. For the first couple of months, she could never find her way back to her charging hub. She would give up in the middle of the room and beep until one of us picked her up and brought her home. We got a cheap model, the kind that doesn’t map the room. Because she just bounces around in a random pattern, she often gets lost.

She’s also prone to getting stuck. Some of our furniture isn’t Roombaproof. We have chairs with a crossbar that is apparently slightly too tall for her to climb over but too short to be picked up by her sensors as an obstacle. She gets halfway over the bar and teeters precariously, wheels spinning. Sometimes, she makes the decision to back up and is able to continue cleaning without intervention. Usually, though, she rocks back and forth until she realizes she’s stuck and begins to beep and send notifications through the app for me to come and get her.

As a result, I can’t run Broomhilda when I’m not home. I have to babysit her while she completes the cleaning cycle, stooping to pick her up when she becomes lodged under the shoe rack or gets stuck on one of those crossbars. More than once, she has gotten tangled in some cords or trapped under the bed. If left to run by herself, she inevitably finds some way to become wedged under the furniture and can’t get herself unstuck.

One of the reasons we got a Roomba is because I can’t vacuum without becoming horribly exhausted. Most days, I simply don’t have the “spoons” to expend the kind of energy needed to drag our traditional vacuum around the house. Spending a few hundred dollars on a machine that would do it for me, theoretically when I wasn’t even home, would save me so much time, effort, and “spoons” that can be used on other tasks.

I do have to babysit her, though. And because she makes a lot of noise during her cleaning cycle, she actually doesn’t save me much time at all. I can’t leave the apartment or do any high-focus tasks when she’s running. Pushing her off an obstacle or retrieving her when she gets stuck (unless it’s under the couch) doesn’t take nearly as much effort as vacuuming traditionally, but it isn’t the magic solution I imagined it would be when we first dreamt of getting a Roomba.

But, as I said at the top of this article, I also love her. Broomy (short for Broomhilda) is my annoying robot companion. When my husband is away on business, I talk to her. Sometimes I speak in ‘her voice’ to my husband and narrate her activities: “Broomy says, ‘Beep boop, nom nom nom dust! Oh no, I’m tired. Going home. Beep boop.’”

Source: https://www.houzhack.com/products/wobbly-giant-googly-eyes

Don’t be judgmental, though; my behaviour toward my Roomba isn’t at all abnormal. (No, really!) It’s been a known phenomenon ever since robot vacuums went on the market two decades ago. In a 2003 article for Wired, the iRobot company (makers of the Roomba) noted that

More than half the owners of iRobot’s Roomba name their device... Owners often talk to their machines, and many treat them as though they were alive, or semi-sentient, anyway. Some even take them on holiday, unwilling to leave them at home alone.

Human beings become attached to things very easily, especially when those things have any sort of characteristic of being ‘alive,’ including just… moving. Or having a face. Roombas become a member of the household, like pets, because their owners create a bond with them.

When a Roomba becomes damaged and is sent in for repairs, owners frequently insist that the original machine, and not a replacement, be returned. Would you want your vet to return a different cat? No! But you’d let Apple send you a new iPad if your original had a defect, right?

There’s a difference between your toaster and your Roomba. Its purposeful movement around your home makes them seem intelligent, sentient, and alive. Most people have their Roombas on a timer and so they seem independent.

A Roomba wearing a “maid outfit,” available on Etsy. Source: https://www.etsy.com/listing/842794317/maid-outfit-uniform-roomba-floor

Roombas have a sensor that tells them when they’re picking up dirt, so they can focus on one area. They stop, evaluate, and pick up the mess in a concentrated effort. Even for a Roomba as dumb as mine (shh, Broomy, I didn’t mean it!), the deliberation triggers that warm fuzzy feeling; I am proud of Broomhilda when she finds all the dirt and does a good job. I even give her a little pat and say, “Good job!” if I see her do it.

Like any pet, child, or appliance, she requires maintenance:

Broomhilda needs to be emptied. It’s a bit like changing a diaper — there can be fallout if not done properly.
She gets hair stuck in her wheels that needs to be regularly cleaned out lest she stops being able to do her job.
Sometimes, if she encounters something too big for her to eat, like a Cheerio, she spits up. ‘Bleh!’ she says, shooting the cereal across the floor.
She needs to sleep. If she can’t find her charging port, she’ll demand — loudly — to be taken to bed.

My Roomba gets lost and stuck and needs my help. She is helpless when she’s tangled up in a cord or dragging a rug around or has a hair wrapped around her wheels. She is helpless and annoying and almost as much work as using a regular vacuum.

But she’s mine and I love her. She is dumb and ambitious and silly and yes, I attribute a personality to this robot that cleans my floors.

I can’t help it; I’m only human.

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