THE ATLANTIC SEPTEMBER 2019 23this is useful: The person operating the
device can simultaneously observe the
surroundings for visual cues of radiation.)
Decades later, a researcher at Lawrence
Livermore National Laboratory studying
machine interfaces popularized a term
for sounds that act as vessels for easily
recognizable information: earcon. Like
an icon, but aural instead of visual.
In the 1950s and ’60s, advances by
Japanese manufacturers in piezoelectric
technology—squeezing crystals between
metal plates to generate energy—helped
usher bleeps into the consumer market.
One of the first musical notifications by
a household machine was inspired by the
Prohibition-era lyric “How dry I am,” fea-
tured in the 1952 Westinghouse D-5 Dryer.
By the 1980s, kitchen appliances around
the globe were emitting monophonic
beeps to alert us to the progress of our
coffee, dishes, and laundry. (So, too, were
in-home smoke detectors, digital watches,
and a host of other new devices.)
The digital revolution—and the
shrinking size and cost of computer
chips—means that consumer goods are
now capable of playing MP3-quality
audio files. Some of these sounds remain
fairly plain: You’ve perhaps heard an
LG washing machine play a little ditty
at start-up (do-di-deedle-di-di!). But the
trend is toward more complicated com-
positions with loftier ambitions (and not
only for household appliances, but for
automobiles, credit-card readers, food-
delivery robots).
At Audiobrain’s Creamsicle-colored
offices in Manhattan, I listened to some
of Arbeeny’s recent work for Whirlpool.
One machine, the Whirlpool Smart All-
in-One Washer & Dryer, is designed to
complete full loads in a single machine.
Arbeeny was tasked with composing
sounds that would amplify Whirlpool’s
“Every Day, Care” campaign, a market-
ing scheme intended to evoke feelings
of familial tenderness and acts of love
(because nothing says love like laundry).
To suggest an intimate touch, Arbeeny
recorded fingertips drumming on denim.
The washer’s start-up theme is a bub-
bly harp melody. Another product, the
Kitchen Aid Smart Oven+, is geared
toward “any cook looking to unlock their
creativity”: When starting up it plays a
trill of custom-made kalimba; the tick
of its digitized timer is reminiscent of a
clinking spoon.
The person washing
socks becomes the “hero”
in a domestic drama.
The machine provides
the soundtrack.which were trying to keep up with Apple’s
earcons—the intuitive crumple of an
emptying trash can, the pleasing whoosh
of outgoing email.
A wealth of studies in consumer psy-
chology attests to the power of sound
to affect our decision making. In one
famous experiment from the ’90s, British
wine shoppers bought five times as many
French bottles as German bottles whenFrench accordions played in the store;
when an oompah band sounded, Ger-
man wine outsold the French. Still other
studies have suggested that slot-machine
noises, often high-pitched and in major
keys, can nudge gamblers to keep play-
ing and can even encourage riskier bets.
A kitchen isn’t a casino, however. Can
a well-considered score really make
consumers more likely to buy a Whirl-
pool over a GE? Will the sock washer
still feel heroic the 50th time he runs the
machine—or merely annoyed? Audio UX,
an audio-branding studio based in New
York, recently commissioned a study
that found that custom-made “premium”
sounds, as opposed to “generic” ones,
were likelier to be associated with the
correct action (e.g., turning on a dish-
washer) by test users, most of whom
also said they’d prefer to own the brand
that offered the customized cues. Those
results serve the interests of the com-
pany that produced them, but the find-
ings tracked with some of the academic
work in this field. Vijaykumar Krishnan,
the chair of the marketing department at
Northern Illinois University, has found
that changing a product’s sonic logo
to a more distinctive composition can
increase how much a consumer is willing
to pay for the product.
But specialized sounds for household
goods must be in keeping with a custom-
er’s expectations for them, the academics
warned. Too many audible flourishesArbeeny contrasts the layered, poly-
phonic compositions she’s created for
these appliances with the grating bleeps of
microwaves past. They’re softer, for one,
and more personal. “It makes you feel
like there’s a human playing that harp for
you, plucked by human hands,” she said.
Inside the conference room where we sat,
we could hear an air conditioner groan.
“And it doesn’t sound like that,” she added.
The sounds are still
intended to be functional.
Our machines prod us—
ever so gently!—through
our tasks. But they also
set a mood. The person
washing socks becomes
the “hero” in a domestic
drama, Brandon Satanek,
the global senior manag er
of product and digital
user- experience design
at Whirlpool, told me. An
appliance’s notifications provide the
soundtrack to that movie, which follows
an emotional arc. When the KitchenAid
Smart Oven+ finishes preheating, it plays
a hopeful phrase (da-da-di?), while a fin-
ished bake is accompanied by a triumphant
da-di-dum! Likewise with the washer/
dryer. “There are certain happy events
in those situations,” Satanek said. “When
you’ve finished washing your clothes, and
you’re ready to smell those clean clothes,
it’s a moment to celebrate. We want to
re inforce those things in a really positive
way with the sounds.” Cue the harps.T
HESE COMPANIES BELIEVE
that bespoke sounds deepen cus-
tomer loyalty: If you like what you hear,
Satanek explained, you will develop
brand allegiance, replacing a Whirlpool
with a Whirlpool, and seeking out other
members of its product family.
Whether this is a realistic bet or wish-
ful thinking is an open question. Sound
is more visceral than sight, Daniel Levi-
tin, the celebrated neuroscientist and
author of This Is Your Brain on Music,
told me. We’re more easily startled by
sound because, unlike vision, it’s pro-
cessed directly in the brain stem. But
first, sound waves cause our eardrums
to vibrate. “They sound like they’re
coming from inside our heads,” Levitin
said. “That’s very intimate.” In the 1990s,
Levitin researched how sound might be
built into Microsoft’s operating systems,