TheVerge reported this week that Amazon introduced a major update of its line of Alexa-enabled Echo smart speakers and displays that they liked alot, then ruined them a few days later when they began to fill them with intrusive video ads that impacts the products’ usability, much to the surprise of the users. Surprisingly, ads were never mentioned until they just showed up.
How in the world could a company be so stupid? Are they so in need of the revenue from selling medications and subscriptions to their users, while pissing them off at the same time? Are they so blind to think users will not resent their intrusion into their homes? It’s not as if the ads were subsidizing a streaming service such as Netflix.
We like to believe that hardware we buy—phones, smart displays, home assistants—are built for us, the users. Big tech companies tell us as much. But lately, that promise feels more like a clever sales trick. Because more and more, the hardware we pay for is becoming a vessel for their revenue streams—not ours. Samsung recently hinted that they were going to deliver ads to their refrigerators that were equipped with a video screen.
The Amazon’s Echo Show is a device designed to display photos, the time, show recipes, and serve as a smart-hub in your kitchen or living room. But these full-screen ads are cropping up in Photo Frame mode, between slideshows, or just as permanent interruptions, often covering the clock display. Users expecting a device purchased with cash and trust are getting something else: an ad billboard. And there’s no discount for buying one that shows ads, nor are ads even mentioned in the product descriptions.
Amazon, right out of 1984, spins this as “discovering content” or adding value—but the truth feels more like coercion. Ads are unavoidable. Many owners report toggling off every visible ad setting and still being shown sponsored content. What’s worse, Amazon quietly removed the premium “PhotosPlus” subscription that let users have their photos take center stage, effectively forcing even those who paid extra to accept ad interruptions. Hardware you bought, features you paid for, now compromised.
This is just one example of a wider pattern: smart devices becoming ad delivery machines, privacy thinly balanced with revenue, trust eroded by creeping monetization.
Consider how Amazon’s Alexa voice data is used. Research shows interactions with Echo devices are collected, matched with third-party advertisers, and used to infer interests and serve ads—not just on Amazon, but elsewhere on the web. All of this done under settings that are buried, opaque, or enabled by default. Users rarely see payment or discount for tolerating this.
Look beyond Amazon: the pattern repeats. Think Facebook / Meta with products pushed relentlessly, think Google’s Nest devices increasingly suggesting content and services, or phones that highlight “partner offers” in notifications. We buy a device expecting utility; too often we get micro-advertisements instead.
What makes this worse is how stealthy the transition often is. A new firmware update. A setting toggle buried under “Home Content” or “Display Preferences.” A subscription cancelled quietly. The ad-heavy version becomes the default. Users have simply no recourse other than to live with it or stop using the product.
The moment our gadgets start serving ads instead of their owners, it’s clear who they’re really working for—and it’s not us.
