The room was filled with more than 30 seniors in an independent living community that had decided to install Pauls (our radar-based fall prevention and health companion devices) in all of their apartments here in Phoenix, Arizona. 

At first, there were some giggles before the room fell silent. Then, 30 pairs of eyes locked onto me. I had anticipated this question because the human desire for love, warmth, and intimacy doesn’t simply vanish with age. 

If you ever have the pleasure of stepping into a senior community as a visitor, you’ll start to realize that it’s a complex microcosm of our society—just filled with older humans. Yes, you’ll see walkers everywhere, and the dining schedules might be different. But you’ll also see groups of friends chatting, playing games, the cool ones, extroverts and introverts, and lovebirds walking or rolling down the hallway hand in hand. Sometimes, you might even catch a kiss here and there. 

What you (should) realize pretty quickly is that some people in our society seem to misunderstand the process of aging entirely. Aging—and specifically “getting closer to the high score”—does not, in any sense, mean having fewer human desires. 

Now, back to the initial questions. Why do these kinds of topics evoke strong emotional reactions like “Wait. Whaaaaat?!!” or nervous giggles and blushing? Would we have the same reaction if a mid-thirties person asked these questions after moving into a new apartment with fancy smart home devices installed? Probably not. 

At the core of these concerns is the universal human need for a sacred space—a place where we can truly be ourselves, alone or with loved ones. Intimacy, whether with ourselves or someone else, requires privacy. But in our modern world, privacy is becoming increasingly rare. Cameras are everywhere, smartphones are always ready to record, and our older adults are well aware of these technologies. 

Often, family members—typically with good intentions—try to introduce such devices under the guise of “safety and security.” One resident shared a story during the meeting: 

“You know, my daughter recently had a baby, and they love those new baby monitors with cameras. They’re always checking their phones to see the baby. I guess she thought I was a baby too—just an old baby. She seemed to have forgotten that I am her mother, the one who put her diapers on. I am old, not dead. Why should my daughter—or anyone—be able to see what the heck I’m doing?” 

I simply nodded in agreement. There wasn’t much to add. 

Her conclusion? Her daughter’s fear and guilt were likely driving these misguided ideas. 

This woman was one of our trial participants. She had been using two Paul devices in her apartment for quite some time. As the discussion continued, she and other early adopters of Paul chimed in to answer their peers’ concerns: 

“Listen, this is NOT a camera! I can show you in my app what Paul ‘sees.’ It’s just a special motion sensor—neither Paul nor I have any way of telling what I’m doing. Just look here.” 

“My restfulness score is great, and I have regular visitors over—hehe—no concerns here.” 

“You don’t have to invite family members to the app if you don’t want to. I invited my daughter, and she can only see whether I’m home. I like it because she doesn’t wake me up anymore or call the front desk every time I don’t answer my phone.” 

As residents who had already used Paul answered most of the questions, I only had to explain how radar works, why it truly preserves privacy, and why they have complete control over it. 

We—“the not-yet-older adults”—need to stop treating seniors differently from how we treat ourselves. I don’t know a single person who would willingly install a privacy-destroying device in their apartment, especially in their bedroom. So why do we expect older adults to accept this? 

Is it really smart to destroy something as fundamental as privacy by recording video and then try to “restore” it (privacy) afterward? Does it make it any better if these recording devices are hidden in plain sight, like in a lamp or a plant? 

Everyone must answer these questions for themselves. But the residents I spoke with (and every other resident I’ve met so far) had clear answers. Why? Because they are smart, sharp, and very much alive. They have needs, desires, and dreams. 

For me, these kinds of encounters with older adults are life-changing. Every time, my prejudices, false ideas, and fears about aging are torn apart. The human desire for intimacy and warmth is ageless. 

Let’s commit, as a society, to creating, fostering, and protecting residential living environments where our older adults can thrive and experience what makes us human—love. 

#PrivacyForLove 

And as we celebrate Valentine’s Day—a day dedicated to love in all its forms—let’s remember that love, intimacy, and the need for privacy don’t come with an expiration date; they remain essential at every stage of life.