I’ve tried these glasses. I’ve tried several pairs of these glasses. And yes - at first, they’re amazing. You pop them on and suddenly you’re staring at a floating 200-inch display in the middle of your living room. Or five displays. Or a panoramic spaceship cockpit made entirely of web browsers. You feel like Tony Stark. It’s magic.
But give it 48 hours. Maybe 72 if you’re stubborn. The novelty fades, and you’re left with exactly what these things are: a very expensive tech demo with no real problem to solve.
Because here’s the truth: we don’t need a 200-inch screen. We don’t need five floating monitors. That’s not a limitation of the real world - it’s a limitation of actual human workflow. We’ve already solved the screen problem. Monitors are affordable, they look great, and they’re ergonomically reliable. If you want five screens for your ultra-productive setup or because you're streaming Fortnite on Twitch while monitoring eight Discords and watching your crypto tank - go nuts. You can literally do that today. You don't need AR glasses for that.
So when reviewers breathlessly claim that they’ve replaced their entire desktop with a pair of $650 smart glasses, I want to shake them gently and ask, “Have you though? Have you really?”
Because here’s what actually happens: day one, you watch Endgame on a virtual theater-sized screen and tell yourself, “This is the future.” Day two, you try to answer a Slack message and suddenly you're fumbling through mid-air menus, trying to tap a holographic keyboard while your cat judges you. Day three? You open your laptop like a normal human being because it’s faster, easier, and doesn’t make you look like a complete idiot.
This is the same delusion that helped Apple Vision Pro make headlines for a week before it quietly faded into $3,500 irrelevance. It didn’t solve anything. It wasn’t built around a need - it was built around ‘cool’. It looked great in YouTube thumbnails. And then it just... vanished. You can’t replace something people already use seamlessly unless your thing is better. “Cooler” doesn’t count if it’s not practical.
I don’t blame the reviewers entirely. They go to CES, they get a two-minute demo surrounded by hype and polished marketing, and they want to believe. They want to believe this is it - the moment when the future finally lands. And I get it. I’ve wanted to believe, too. But the reality is far less glamorous.
At best, these glasses are a neat travel companion. Maybe you want a big screen on a plane. Maybe you want to zone out in a hotel room. That’s fine. They’re fun. They’re even kind of amazing. But that’s all they are - fun at some very rare edge-cases. Not for everyday use.
They’re not replacing your laptop. They’re not making your workflow more efficient. They’re not the future of productivity. They’re the future of bragging rights - until you need to Google something quickly and realize that tapping on your phone is still faster than navigating through six floating app windows with your neck tilted 30 degrees.
We need to stop pretending these things are going to change everything just because they can. Don't get me wrong - I wholeheartedly believe AR glasses will actually change everything - but that will only happen when they solve real life problems. This generation of glasses is trying to reinvent a wheel that already spins just fine.
So, dear tech reviewers: I love your enthusiasm. I love that you want to be the first to jump into the future. But let’s not confuse “cool” with “essential.” Let’s not confuse “demo” with “disruption.” And let’s definitely not confuse “floating 200-inch screen” with “laptop replacement.”
Because if I catch you typing your next review about how you ditched your MacBook while secretly using it to edit the piece - you’re proving my point.
