Comment: I attended my first CES in Las Vegas last week. I waded into a sea of AI, but it was the humanity that really stood out.
Macy is a writer on the AI team. She explains how AI is changing everyday life and how to get the most out of it. This includes writing about consumer AI products and their real-world impact, from the revolutionary tools that are reshaping everyday life to the intimate ways people interact with AI technology every day. Macy is a North Carolina native and graduated from UNC-Chapel Hill with a bachelor’s degree in English and a second bachelor’s degree in journalism. You can reach her at mmeyer@cnet.com.
Skill Macy covers consumer AI products and their real-world impact Credentials
- Macy has worked for CNET for 2 years. Prior to CNET, Macy received a North Carolina College Media Association award in sports writing.
AI toothbrush. AI sleep mask. AI baby monitor. AI coffee maker. AI cat feeder. AI pen. AI Pin. AI massage chair. A AI Mirror who “reads your face”. A AI refrigerator who must know me better than I know myself. AI smart ring, AI Smart Collar, AI headsetAI oh my god whatever.
On the first day of my first CES, I started keeping a list in my Notes app. This is not a list of companies to follow up with, but of products that have received AI treatment for no discernible reason.
Some products were good. Some were stupid. A few were truly impressive (looking at you, massage chair). But they all suffer from the same problem: too often, AI doesn’t solve a real problem. It’s simply a marketing strategy.
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It was my first participation in the big technology show in Las Vegas, I expected to be overwhelmed. Hundreds of thousands of people from all over the world gathered in two locations in one of the most extravagant cities of all time? Yeah, I was prepared for the sensory overload. But what I didn’t expect was how quickly “AI” would start to lose all meaning. By day three, all the pitches were a blur: AI-powered, AI-driven, AI-enabled.
Most of them? AI nonsense.
I found myself oscillating between fascination and fatigue. Fascination by the ambition and grandeur of the exhibitions promising the key to the future. Fatigue with how often this future seemed like an absurd solution in search of a non-existent problem, all wrapped up in an LLM.
The problem at CES 2026 wasn’t AI itself. But with what liberality and casualness this measure was applied.
AI fatigue This does not mean that we should reject technology as a whole. It’s about seeing something that could be truly powerful become a buzzword and be integrated into every product and device that doesn’t need it. When everything is AI, nothing seems innovative. It’s a checkbox. A mandate. A wait. And that’s when fatigue sets in.
As a CES newbie, I was always waiting for the moment when the hype would finally turn into clarity. Give me evolution! A catalyst! A revelation! A paradigm shift! Something!
And then, unexpectedly, I found it. And it was incredibly grounded. Sorry to most of the exhibitors, but I didn’t find clarity in the gadgets or lifestyle products promising to reinvent the way I drink coffee, take notes, or sit in a chair. It was in healthcare and medical research, and I think the major difference was that AI wasn’t the headline, it was the infrastructure.
In conversations about neurological researchdiagnostics and treatments, AI is used to surface patterns too complex for human cognition alone to resolve in a timely manner. I felt real optimism about using AI to analyze brain signals, facilitate non-invasive therapies and surgeries, and advance medicine both gradually and responsibly. This is an area where AI appears to be having a real positive impact. And the amazing thing is that in a room full of products insisting they will change our lives, these are advances that are actually aimed at helping us live better lives.
Humanity, human consequences and human lives are at the forefront of these innovations. Isn’t that something?
And once that clicked, it reframed my week at CES.
Because, for all the talk about AI and robots and clones, the most remarkable aspect of CES is the deep, stubborn, glorious humanity at its center. I loved the bustle of the CNET workroom, the crowds of bodies pressed side by side in hotel ballrooms, casinos and hallways, and the excitement of thousands of journalists and industry professionals coming together in an instant to get a glimpse of the future of technology. There is something so special about the frenzy and impact of these moments of connection.
It was meeting my colleagues in person for the first time and realizing how much chemistry doesn’t translate into Slack messages. It’s losing at pool (sorry, Lai and David), taking chaotic cab rides through Vegas (we made it, David and Jon), and laughing over good food, shared exhaustion, and the absurdity of seeing AI clones try to get closer to humanity while the real thing is standing right next to me. This seems like a future worth looking into.
CES hasn’t made me more cynical about AI – I’ve always thought the majority of it was absurd – but I suppose I see more clearly how impatient I am for it to lose its unnecessary ubiquity. Useless AI now overshadows the goals that matter. It turns out that the most compelling technology I saw at CES was one that would allow us to connect more easily, live a little better, and focus on humanity. I’ll wait for more of that.
