0004 Aging At Home Part 2 of 5 Part Series

In Part 1, we saw how other wealthy nations invested in smart home technology to help older adults age safely at home. They created government programs, standardized systems, and trained support networks. The technology worked. Lives were saved. Independence was preserved.

America took a different path. We let the free market handle it.

Three years into living in our 55+ community, my wife and I are still dealing with WiFi dead zones in the back bedroom. The signal drops randomly. Goes in and out. The internet cabling was done wrong during construction. Nobody explained the repeaters or amplifiers—assuming we'd figure it out ourselves.

We're tech-savvy. I spent fifty years in IT. We can troubleshoot this.

But what about our neighbors who can't?

That's the question at the heart of this investigation. Because the technology that could keep older Americans safely in their homes isn't failing because it doesn't work. It's failing at a much earlier stage: nobody can set it up.

This is Part 2 of our five-part series. Today we examine the technical barriers that prevent seventy-six percent of American adults from using any smart home devices—even though ninety percent want to age in place and the technology could save their lives.

We'll look at setup complexity, incompatible ecosystems, privacy concerns, and infrastructure problems. But mostly, we'll follow one simple question: why is this so damn hard?

The Setup Barrier Nobody Talks About

Let's start with what the companies won't tell you: setting up smart home safety technology requires technical knowledge most older adults don't have—and shouldn't need to have.

Here's what "simple setup" actually means:

Step 1: Reliable Home Internet

Before you can install a single safety device, you need WiFi that works consistently throughout your home. Not just in the living room. Not just most of the time. Everywhere. Always.

In our 55+ community—a supposedly age-friendly environment built specifically for older adults—the WiFi infrastructure was botched from the start. The builder's contractors installed cabling incorrectly. They placed repeaters and amplifiers without documentation or explanation. Three years later, we still have dead zones.

We can handle this because of my background. But I watch neighbors struggle with basic internet connectivity. They don't know what a repeater is. They don't understand why their router placement matters. They can't troubleshoot when the signal drops.

These aren't tech-averse people. They're people who shouldn't have to become network engineers to stay safe in their own homes.

A 2024 Pew Research study found that thirty-three percent of adults over sixty-five don't have home internet at all.[1] Another study by the USC Annenberg School showed that among older adults who do have internet, many experience unreliable connections due to outdated home wiring, poor router placement, or inadequate coverage in larger homes.[2]

The smart home industry's response? "Just make sure you have strong WiFi."

Step 2: Create Accounts and Download Apps

Assuming you've solved the internet problem, you're ready for the next hurdle: creating accounts with tech companies and downloading their apps to your smartphone.

Wait—you do have a smartphone, right?

According to AARP, twenty-five percent of adults over sixty-five still don't own a smartphone.[3] For those who do, many avoid downloading apps or creating new online accounts because of legitimate security concerns, password management challenges, or simply not understanding why a motion sensor needs to "talk to the cloud."

Each smart home device typically requires:

Downloading a company-specific app

Creating an account with email verification

Setting a strong password (and remembering it)

Agreeing to terms of service (rarely read)

Connecting to your WiFi network (entering that long password)

Updating device firmware before first use

Configuring notification settings

Sometimes linking to a central hub or voice assistant

One device means one app, one account, one setup process. A basic safety system—motion sensors, door sensors, video doorbell, fall detection, voice assistant—means five to eight different apps, accounts, and setup procedures.

Research from the University of Colorado's Center for Healthy Aging found that the average setup time for a basic smart home safety system is four to six hours for tech-proficient users.[4] For older adults without technical backgrounds, it can take days—or never get completed at all.

Step 3: The Family Tech Support Problem

This is where the system breaks down completely.

Because the smart home industry knows their products are too complex for most older adults to set up alone, they have an unofficial solution: assume a family member will do it.

But that family member needs to:

Be tech-savvy enough to handle multiple apps and accounts

Live close enough to visit for initial setup and troubleshooting

Be available when devices need updates or stop working

Remember all the passwords and account details

Understand how to integrate multiple systems

Be willing to become unpaid, on-call tech support indefinitely

A 2023 study published in the Journal of Housing and the Built Environment found this "family tech support" dependency is one of the primary reasons smart home safety technology fails after installation.[5] The initial setup happens, but when devices need updates, batteries need changing, or connectivity issues arise, there's nobody available to fix them.

The system becomes unreliable. Trust erodes. Eventually, the devices sit unused—still technically "installed" but no longer protecting anyone.

The Ecosystem Wars: When Safety Devices Won't Talk to Each Other

If you manage to get past the setup barrier, you encounter the next problem: your devices don't work together.

Smart home technology is fractured into competing ecosystems that intentionally don't play nice with each other. Amazon's Alexa, Google Home, Apple HomeKit, Samsung SmartThings—each wants to be your central platform. Each uses different protocols. Each requires different hub devices.

This isn't an accident. It's strategy.

The Matter Standard: A Promise Broken

In 2022, the industry announced Matter—a universal standard that would finally make all smart home devices work together regardless of manufacturer. Apple, Google, Amazon, and Samsung all signed on. Technology publications hailed it as the solution to compatibility chaos.

Three years later, Matter adoption is spotty at best. A 2025 investigation by GearBrain found that "smart home compatibility still sucks" despite the standard's existence.[6] Many manufacturers have been slow to implement it. Some devices claim Matter compatibility but only for basic functions, leaving advanced features locked to proprietary apps. Others require firmware updates that users never install.

For older adults trying to build a safety system, this means:

The fall detection watch might not communicate with the voice assistant

The motion sensors might not trigger the video doorbell

The door locks might need a different hub than the lights

Nothing talks to the medical alert pendant

You end up with a collection of devices that work individually—if you can figure out each separate app—but don't create an integrated safety system.

The Hub Problem

Many devices require a central hub—a separate piece of hardware that connects everything. But which hub?

Philips Hue lights need a Hue hub

Ring doorbells work best with Amazon Echo

HomeKit devices need an Apple TV or HomePod

SmartThings sensors need a SmartThings hub

Aqara sensors need an Aqara hub

A comprehensive study by Noobie in 2025 found that achieving compatibility across Alexa, Google, and Apple platforms "without conflicts" requires extensive technical knowledge and often purchasing multiple hubs.[7]

Each hub costs $50 to $150. Each needs setup. Each needs updates. Each adds another potential point of failure.

For someone trying to age safely at home, this is absurd. The motion sensor that could detect a fall shouldn't need a $100 hub and a computer science degree to function.

The Privacy Trade-Off Nobody Explains Honestly

Let's address what everyone's thinking but the industry doesn't want to discuss: smart home safety devices are surveillance technology.

That's not paranoia. It's literally what they do. They watch. They listen. They record. They send data to corporate servers. And in exchange for safety and independence, you're asked to accept constant monitoring.

The companies will tell you the data is "encrypted" and "secure" and "only used to improve your experience." They're not lying, exactly. But they're not telling the whole truth either.

What the Privacy Policies Actually Say

I read the privacy policies so you don't have to. Here's what you're agreeing to when you set up common safety devices:

Amazon Alexa (used for voice-activated emergency calls):

Records and stores all voice commands

Can share data with third-party "skills" and developers

Uses recordings to train AI and improve products

May share data with Amazon's advertising division

Retains transcripts even if you delete recordings[8]

Google Home/Nest (used for fall detection and environmental monitoring):

Collects audio, video, and sensor data continuously

Links data across all Google services (Search, Maps, YouTube)

Uses information for targeted advertising

Shares data with "trusted partners" (not fully disclosed)

Can be subpoenaed by law enforcement without notification[9]

Apple HomeKit (generally most privacy-focused):

Processes most data locally on-device

Encrypts camera feeds end-to-end

Doesn't sell advertising or share with third parties

But requires buying into expensive Apple ecosystem

And features are limited compared to competitors[10]

Ring Doorbells/Cameras (owned by Amazon):

Records continuous video that goes to Amazon's servers

Has history of sharing footage with police without warrants

Faced multiple security breach scandals

Employees had access to customer video feeds

"Neighbors" feature shares your location and activity[11]

Medical Alert Systems (various providers):

Track location constantly via GPS

Record fall detection data and movement patterns

Share health information with monitoring centers

May report incidents to emergency contacts without consent

Privacy protections vary wildly by provider[12]

This isn't theoretical. These are the actual trade-offs.

The Honest Conversation We Need

For older adults trying to stay safely at home, there's a real calculation to make:

Some monitoring by tech companies vs. complete independence vs. moving to a facility with 24/7 human surveillance

The problem is nobody explains this choice honestly. The tech companies downplay the surveillance. The medical establishment doesn't present home technology as a legitimate alternative to facilities. And families often make decisions based on which option feels safest without understanding the privacy costs.

A 2024 study by the AgeTech Collaborative found that seventy-three percent of older adults are "concerned about privacy" with smart home devices—but fifty-eight percent said they'd accept the trade-off if it meant staying home instead of moving to assisted living.[13]

That's a reasonable choice. But it should be an informed choice.

Instead, the current system makes it nearly impossible to understand what you're agreeing to. Privacy policies are intentionally complex. Data sharing happens invisibly. And there's no standardized disclosure about what data gets collected, how long it's stored, or who can access it.

The Internet Requirement That Nobody Mentions

Here's something the smart home industry doesn't advertise: when your internet goes out, your safety system might stop working.

Not all devices. Some motion sensors, door contacts, and basic alarms work locally without internet. But the features that make smart homes valuable for aging in place—remote monitoring, emergency notifications, voice-activated help, family alerts—all require constant internet connectivity.

When the Internet Goes Down

In our 55+ community, internet outages happen. Sometimes it's the cable company. Sometimes it's weather. Sometimes it's equipment failure. During those outages:

Voice assistants can't call for help

Video doorbells don't record

Remote monitoring stops

Family notifications fail

Smart locks may not work

Medical alert pendants lose connectivity

The systems designed to keep older adults safe become useless precisely when reliability matters most.

According to the FCC's 2024 Broadband Progress Report, older Americans are disproportionately affected by unreliable internet service. Rural areas—where thirty-seven percent of adults over sixty-five live—experience frequent outages and slow speeds that make smart home technology impractical.[14]

But even in urban and suburban areas with supposedly good connectivity, infrastructure problems persist. Consumer Reports found that the average American household experiences internet outages lasting more than four hours at least twice per year.[15] For someone relying on smart home safety devices, four hours without connectivity could mean the difference between getting help quickly and lying on the floor unable to call for assistance.

The Backup Solution That Isn't

Some companies offer cellular backup—a mobile data connection that takes over when WiFi fails. This sounds great until you read the fine print:

Cellular backup typically costs an additional $10-25 per month

Coverage depends on cell signal strength (often poor inside buildings)

Some features still won't work without WiFi

Backup batteries may only last 24-48 hours

Monthly fees add up to hundreds of dollars annually

So the "affordable" alternative to institutional care now requires:

Monthly internet service ($50-100)

Cellular backup service ($10-25)

Multiple device subscriptions (see Part 3)

Maintenance and troubleshooting

Family tech support

We're no longer talking about a one-time $800 safety system. We're talking about ongoing infrastructure costs that many older adults on fixed incomes can't afford.

The Real Cost of "Free Market Solutions"

Let's return to where we started: America chose to let the free market handle smart home technology for aging in place.

The market responded predictably. It created:

Proprietary ecosystems that lock users in

Incompatible devices that require multiple hubs

Setup processes that assume technical expertise

Subscription models that extract ongoing revenue

Privacy policies that prioritize data collection

Infrastructure requirements that exclude many older adults

None of this is a conspiracy. It's rational business strategy. Companies compete for market share, build brand loyalty, maximize profit, and protect intellectual property. That's what markets do.

But markets don't optimize for "keeping older Americans safe at home." They optimize for shareholder value.

Compare this to what we saw in Part 1: Nordic countries and Singapore treated aging-in-place technology as public infrastructure. They standardized systems, trained support workers, subsidized costs, and regulated privacy. They recognized that leaving this to pure market forces would produce exactly what we see in America—technical chaos that works great for tech companies and terribly for older adults who actually need help.

What This Means for the Ninety Percent

Remember: ninety percent of older Americans want to age in place. The technology exists. It costs a fraction of institutional care. We've proven it works in other countries.

But in America, seventy-six percent of adults have no smart home devices at all.[16]

Now you know why.

It's not because older adults are resistant to technology. It's not because the devices don't work. It's not even primarily about cost—though as we'll see in Part 3, the subscription trap is real.

It's because the system is designed for tech-savvy early adopters, not for seventy-five-year-olds with unstable WiFi and no family member available to troubleshoot compatibility issues between their Ring doorbell and their Apple Watch.

The setup barrier alone eliminates most potential users. Add in the ecosystem wars, privacy surveillance, and infrastructure requirements, and you've created a perfect filter that screens out precisely the people who need this technology most.

In Part 3, we'll examine what happens after you somehow navigate all these technical barriers: the support vacuum. Who helps when devices stop working? What happens when you can't remember which app controls which device? And why does calling "customer service" usually mean talking to someone reading from a script who has never helped an older adult before?

The technical barriers are real. But they're just the beginning.