Every few months, a new pair of augmented reality glasses lands on the pre-order shelf with breathless promises about "the next computing platform." XReal's latest iteration. Apple's Vision Pro. Meta's competing hardware. The messaging is consistent: this is inevitable. This is coming. You might as well get ahead of it.
This trend is being sold as inevitable. It deserves more skepticism than it is getting.
I'm not arguing that AR technology won't evolve or find niches where it genuinely improves how people work and play. It probably will. What I'm skeptical about is the certainty embedded in how these devices are being marketed to parents and families, and the assumption that adoption is simply a matter of when, not if.
Look at the messaging. Companies aren't saying "Here's a tool that might help in specific situations." They're saying "This is the future of how you'll interact with information." That's marketing framed as destiny. And parents hear it, because we're already anxious about technology. We want to make sure our kids aren't left behind.
But left behind from what, exactly?
We've been here before. Virtual reality was supposed to revolutionize home entertainment and education. Tablets were going to replace laptops. Smart home devices would transform daily life. Some of these technologies found their place. Most settled into being nice-to-haves rather than the paradigm shifts they were hyped as.
The AR glasses pitch feels different mainly because the marketing is more sophisticated. The vision is more polished. But the underlying gamble is the same: billions in investment betting that the public will eventually adopt a new interface layer between themselves and the world.
For parents specifically, there are practical concerns that the inevitability narrative glosses over. These devices are expensive. They require power management. They're evolving rapidly, which means whatever you buy today might feel outdated within 18 months. And they represent yet another screen interface competing for your family's attention and time, except this one is literally worn on the face.
There's also the question of what these devices are actually for right now, versus what they're theoretically for. Gaming accessories? Yes, probably. Productivity tools for specific professions? Maybe. A replacement for your smartphone? We're nowhere near that. Yet the marketing suggests the latter.
I'm not saying you shouldn't explore AR glasses if they genuinely interest you or serve a specific need. That's your choice. What I'm saying is that the framing of "this is the inevitable future" is a sales technique, not a fact. It's designed to create a sense of urgency and missing out.
Parents are already managing screen time, app choices, privacy concerns, and the psychological effects of constant connectivity. Adding another layer of tech adoption pressure isn't serving families. It's serving the companies making the hardware.
The skeptical question worth asking: Is AR glasses adoption something that will naturally happen because the technology solves real problems? Or is it something that will happen because companies with massive budgets have decided it should, and they're structuring the narrative around inevitability?
Right now, I'd bet on the latter. And that's precisely why we should slow down and ask harder questions before assuming our kids need to be "ready" for AR glasses.
The future isn't something that happens to you. It's something we collectively choose to build. That choice shouldn't be outsourced to a marketing department.