Four years ago, Cincinnati awoke to five new monoliths on our sidewalks. Over the ensuing months more appeared. If you’ve been downtown, you’ve seen the massive LED slabs. The IKE “Smart City” Kiosks were lauded as a win: “technology to improve lives in cities.” We’ve had four years of this experiment. The result: they do not improve lives in our city.
They promised to bring much needed modernization to our city by solving some of city life’s oldest problems. In reality, they are useless and unused. The screens are not progress nor innovation. This is monetization masquerading as modernization.
IKE “Smart” Screens boast a plethora of useful features, like transit guides, weather reports, and a map. The trouble is, there are already much better and more easily available solutions to these problems.
The obvious preexisting solution is the smartphone. 91% of Americans own a smartphone. Younger Americans, 18-49, those most likely to be visiting and live downtown, own smartphones at over 96%. A smartphone does everything the smart screens do but better: maps, transit, alerts, “Eat + Drink”, and even selfies.
Yes, the smart screens have a selfie feature. An odd addition. Or is it a justification for the two inconspicuous cameras embedded in the device?
Clearly to the most casual observer, the smart screens are scaled up smartphones. And smartphones are a more effective and convenient tool. But what about the few without smartphones? First, do you know anyone without a smartphone? It is safe to say that anyone without a smartphone in 2026 (and beyond!) does so voluntarily. Phones are useful, affordable, and sometimes even free. Those without phones have already solved these problems. We research our travel destination, we collect timetables for our bus routes, and we ask locals “where’s the hot place to dine?” Take it from your dear author. I do not own a phone of any kind. Never have I found the “Smart” Kiosks helpful.1
These devices are not useful. Because these devices are not useful, they are not used. There is an IKE “Smart” City kiosk in front of my home. I have observed it religiously, but I have never seen it satisfy its user’s needs. Most give it three taps and realize the phone in their pocket is more capable. Some take a selfie for kicks. That is all.
When the unsightly monoliths aren’t in your face, they’re broken. And while I enjoy watching them glitch out, lag, or go dark, because I hate them, I love my city. I have seen these screens covered or opened for maintenance more than I have seen them used. I’m tempted to write that the only thing more unsightly than a working IKE is a broken IKE, but I honestly see it as a slight improvement. At least broken screens are quiet.
If these machines are so useless, unused, and fragile, why are they here? Did Stanley Kubrick’s mad genius manifest them from the ether?
The city ought to take them down, even if we must pay whatever it cost to install them. Let us take back our quiet streets.
Wait. It turns out the city paid nothing. The screens were paid for by Orange Barrel Media, an advertising agency. Because when the kiosks are not being used, or more often broken, they cycle through eight advertisement slots. Behind the thin veil of useful kiosks, these are loud eyelevel advertising space.
They are treasonous billboards in sheep’s clothing. Why must my two year old see an ad for a horror film on our walk to the park? Why must my two year old see an ad for junk food on the way home from the park?
In theory, according to IKE, the screens “complement a city’s identity through customizable hardware, branding, interface design, and hyper-local content.” In practice, they are dystopian ad space for Hershey’s, Cheetos, Coca-Cola, and other cities’ identities, like “Go to Louisville,” “Visit Phoenix," and “Visit Lauderdale.”
But ads are not the whole story. Why did City Hall allow this? Cincinnati is so afraid of being considered unmodern that we add pointless gadgets to pretend to be hip. E.g. streetcar. Cincinnati is afraid to be called behind. Cincinnati is afraid to be called backward. Cincinnati is afraid to be called pig-headed. Cincinnati is pig-headed to pretend to be what it is not. We can’t compete by adding frivolous gadgets and call it modern. OTR does not improve by copying Times Square. Monetization is not modernization.
Based on my research, the best course of action is to put a brick through them.
