Does your toilet have a 43 page user manual?

#1

http://www.nytimes.com/2011/10/13/techn ... -more.html

(video in article)

October 12, 2011
Bells and Whistles Descend Upon the Throne
By SAM GROBART

Much has been written about the so-called war for the living room, that grand contest among tech, cable and media companies to dominate our leisure time through the television shows we watch and the music we listen to.

But alongside that campaign is a side battle: the war for the bathroom. Many technological advances in that tiled arena have happened in commercial restrooms — hands-free faucets and toilets and cyclonic hand dryers — but the battle is now coming to the American home.

Earlier this year, the latest salvo was fired by the venerable bath fixtures manufacturer Kohler. It produced a new toilet, the Numi. The Numi features a touch-screen remote control. The Numi washes and dries its user. The Numi costs $6,400 or 81 times the price of the basic throne at Home Depot.

Such extravagance may put the Numi within reach of only plutocrats and Pentagon purchasing managers, but widespread sales are not Kohler’s goal. The Numi serves two purposes for its manufacturer. First, it brings attention to the toilet market, not generally a closely watched industry. Second, it helps Kohler compete with its archrival, the Japanese bath fixture maker Toto, which has been making tricked-out toilets under the Neorest brand for some time.

But why would anyone want a high-tech, $6,400 toilet? To try to answer that question, I borrowed a Numi for a month and used it in my home. (Kohler installed it for a test run and then removed it several weeks later.)

And one thing I learned is this: It is possible to acclimate to such luxury. Anyone who has ever owned a car with a backup camera or heated seats knows what this means. Features that initially seem unnecessary can become something you cannot do without, even in a bathroom.

The most striking feature of the Numi is what you don’t get: any visible levers or buttons. All the Numi controls are handled through a touch screen remote control that is somewhat larger than an iPod Touch. That remote controls flushing, cleaning, drying, music, heating and other settings and preferences; combinations of preferences can be stored in user profiles for different family members. When not in use, the remote docks in a magnetic charging cradle that can be mounted on the wall. There are backup buttons at the rear of the toilet just in case the remote is not working.

Then there’s the Numi’s design. The toilet, when closed, is a large white rhombus that sits in your bathroom. It does not so much say “toilet” as much as “giant building block from Lego: the Marcel Breuer Collection.” The rear panels are translucent, and LED lights gently illuminate the toilet when the Numi’s sensor determines that the room has gone dark. Another LED is mounted in the bowl itself for additional nighttime guidance; both lights’ intensity can be adjusted with the remote control.

Walk up to the Numi, and location sensors will detect your presence and cause the toilet’s lid to rise, revealing the rectangular-on-the-outside, round-where-it-counts seat. If you are a man standing in front of the toilet, you will notice a blue beam of light projected on the right-side floor, adjacent to the toilet. Place your foot in the path of that beam and the toilet seat will rise; break the beam again and the toilet will flush and the seat will lower itself.

That seat, naturally, is heated, and the temperature can be adjusted from the remote. If desired, the Numi can also blow heated air from its base, warming your feet on chillier mornings. The Numi has what is referred to in the industry as “bidet features”: it can wash and dry its user (there are modes for women and men). Both functions are accomplished via a wand that extends from under the seat that can spray water or blow air. Pressure and temperature are adjustable, as is the spray pattern, which can go from a steady blast to an oscillating pattern that can only be described as invigorating.

The Numi also has not one but two flushing modes, both of which are more efficient than current federal flushing standards. “Flush-eco” resembles a standard flush, but only uses six-tenths of a gallon of water (the maximum allowed in the United States is 1.6 gallons per flush). “Flush-full” is a two-stage flush, but it still only uses 1.3 gallons each time. These flushing options can be set to take place automatically. The Numi knows if you’ve been sitting or standing, and can automatically activate full or eco flushes when you leave the toilet. It will also automatically lower the seat and close the lid when you are away — perhaps saving some marriages.

An FM radio and stereo speakers are also built in. Up to three presets can be stored on the remote, which has settings for bass, treble and balance (you can also connect an MP3 player to listen to your own music). The audio quality was quite good, considering that you are listening to a toilet.

All of this had its charms. Still, there is the problem of technological overkill. When you add a computer to something, you are also adding the kinds of problems computers have. One day I approached the Numi only to discover that its remote had frozen. After consulting the 43-page user manual, I realized that it had come to this: I had to reboot the toilet. With the cunning use of a ballpoint pen, I was able to poke a small hole on the back of the remote to begin the process. It felt exactly as if I were working on a wireless router.

Some of the features were just irritating. For example, when the toilet was first activated and plugged in (yes, you’ll need an electrician), I discovered that it played a short tune (think starting up a Windows PC) every time the lid opened. Every time. I quickly disabled that feature.

And even the raising and lowering of the lid has a little more pomp and circumstance than is required. While it’s nice to have the Numi do it for you, you would do a faster job yourself.

Furthermore, the proximity sensors (at least in my bathroom, which I’m sure is smaller than the rooms most Numis are installed in) are too sensitive. The Numi was like an eager cocker spaniel, raising its lid anytime I came anywhere near it. (“Not now, Numi!”)

In the end, perhaps the Numi’s greatest flaw is this: It has a panoply of logical and imaginative features, but it also assumes that you have all the time in the world to play with them. On rare occasions, that may be true, but for most of us, most of the time, the bathroom is a waypoint, not a destination.