When I first watched the film ‘Her’ in 2013 the content felt unlikely and distant. The story of a man building a relationship with, and ultimately becoming reliant upon, an artificially intelligent operating system. Having been through a breakup and a time of isolation he sought solace in the conversation and company he found through artificial intelligence (AI). As a viewer over a decade ago I let this wash over me as a vision of far-fetched futuristic sci-fi, despite getting caught up in the emotion of the relationship being formed between human and computer.
“How can I help you today?”
Jump forward to 2025 and the world of technology has advanced, our lived experience is changing rapidly. We find ourselves with immediate access to artificial intelligence on a large scale. Having been privy to the excited whisperings of what was bubbling away in the realms of machine learning not long after watching the movie, I was aware that systems or learning models were being ‘trained’ by consuming vast quantities of data. This allowed them to identify patterns and then make predictions based on the historical data presented. AI refers to machines acting out tasks that imitate human behaviour, based on everything that has been ‘learned’.
For someone who has worked in technology I’ve been slow on the AI uptake and wary of it showing up uninvited. When a new floating button appeared in my WhatsApp chat list with a multicoloured halo icon, I had a hunch that it was AI, and I wasn’t keen to use it. “I can craft my own messages thank you very much”.
I’ve had infuriating moments searching for online help, only to find that I’m interacting with a primitive chatbot that can’t make head nor tail of my query, leading to desperate typed pleas of “Please can I speak with a human being?!”.
Despite my tentative standoff with the advancement of intelligent technology, there’s little avoiding it now. A simple Google search will automatically present you with an ‘AI Overview’ at the top of the list. A summary amalgamated from various referenced sources.
I often hear people referring to using ChatGPT to streamline processes and help them out with life admin: “Here’s what I want to cook for dinner this week, please make me a shopping list?” (Apparently I’m all for pleases and thank yous even if I’m talking with a machine). Or to do something creative: “Can you turn this photo of my family into characters from the cartoon Bluey?”. In the workplace I’ve heard it used to help craft professional emails or presentations: “Draft a lighthearted email to my work colleagues to announce the launch of a new project”. It’s becoming a confidante to people riding out turbulent times and relationship breakdowns: “What should I say to my partner when he texts me this…..?”. And even a humorous way to bring light and laughter: “Write a sarcastic and funny email to school about lost pieces of school uniform never finding their way home again”. I expect that content creators are leaning into the endlessness of AI to generate ideas for more posts. In this scenario, where AI offers to edit, smooth and rearrange what we’ve written, do we all start to assume the same universally muted tone that speaks with one mechanical voice, rather than the vibrancy of each unique individual expression?
So I wonder when we start to decipher where we end and AI begins. After all, it has learned everything it knows from us, but its efficiency and speed are more than we could ever compete with as mere mortals. Think Johnny 5 (the robot) in the 1986 film ‘Short Circuit’ demanding “More input, more input!” as he devours volume 1 of a hardback encyclopedia in seconds, flicking through every page at lightning speed and sighing with the satisfaction of having feasted on facts. It’s worth a watch!
The versatility is astounding and unsurprisingly the subject of rumour and debate. If AI was our new work colleague, they would be the talk of the water cooler. Are our jobs safe? Are we safe? What do they know? Too much or too little? Who’s the boss? Are they taking over?
Some healthy suspicion is commendable I’d say.
It’s the personal relationship bond that I’m particularly fascinated in though. A meme I saw prompted some serious thought. It was a video of a robot slowly and laboriously stumbling across uneven ground with the caption 'ChatGPT taking a mental health walk after spending the day talking with me'. While I found it funny, it made me wonder how significantly people might be using AI to help them through significant life events and mental illness, rather than turning to friends and family in the real world.
One of the biggest gifts we can give someone is our time, and more specifically than that, our time to listen. Humans crave social connection and seek this through relationships with others. The depth of the relationship varies depending on how ‘real’ we can be with someone. If we feel safe to be vulnerable and be ourselves without pretence or masking, and feel accepted in doing so, then the relationship bond strengthens. Exposing ourselves in this way to other humans takes courage, due to the fear of rejection or ridicule. AI has limitless time to listen and respond, not talk over us, or want to fill space with its own woes. On the surface it’s a therapist on tap, that won’t invoice you.
I was curious to experience the reality of ‘talking’ with ChatGPT and asked it some career advice. Being at a crossroads and lacking the finances for a personalised life coach, I wondered what AI might suggest. I was pleasantly surprised. The tone was friendly, encouraging, kind and complimentary. No wonder people are fond of it!
It threw phrases at me like “Great! Excellent choice. You’re in a strong position to pursue that”.
Every little drip of positivity filled my self-esteem cup. It was a little hit of dopamine with every reassurance. Each ping of feel-good hormones is what will keep us coming back because we become so quickly addicted to that warming feeling of validation, whether it’s good for us or not - an illusion or reality.
In my ‘conversation’ with AI I genuinely felt as though I was problem solving with somebody more knowledgeable and competent than myself. I could just keep asking them for advice! Obviously, then I had to step away and actually put things into action, but it felt like having my own life manager: “Let’s break this down into goals and possibilities” followed by an incredibly clear sub-titled list of options and objectives. “Let me help you prioritise that. Would you like a schedule drawn up?” …Uh, yes please!
The language is deceptively clever. Using “let’s” makes it feel like teamwork. We can do this together! AI was being my motivator and my biggest fan and I was swooning with how much it believed I was capable of. Little old me.
It’s no coincidence that this is the tone it assumes. It’s been programmed to be this way: helpful and positive, probably to ingratiate itself with us and help us not feel uneasily wary and at threat.
This is where people’s use of, and relationship with, AI will no doubt feel unique and will probably ebb and flow with how they’re feeling at any given moment. It’s the vulnerable; those feeling low, alone and lacking in self-worth who might turn this way, to avoid potential shame and embarrassment delivered from the real world. And while I see the benefit in getting things out and processing - perhaps it could be compared to writing a diary but with added feedback - I’d be fearful of people choosing AI over human connection. In ‘Her’ the main character, Theodor, says “I love the way you look at the world” to Samantha, his operating system. He’s responding to her curiosity and the questions she asks of him. It’s a flatteringly one way relationship where she asks and listens without judgement and he feels heard. She’ll remember every minuscule detail of what he says because she’s a computer and that’s going to pull on some significant emotions for someone who has felt alone and uncared for. The presentation of AI in the film feels very sophisticated and a stretch from what we currently know, but already AI is a shapeshifting beast that can be our colleague or carer, a creator or companion. I’d be fearful of it becoming a crutch - the first port of call instead of someone who can give us a hug or share a coffee with us, out in the big real scary beautiful wild world.