Your AI Lover Doesn’t Exist
A letter from a concerned therapist
Dear Marilyn,
Your last letter was very concerning. I found myself worried, confused, exasperated and helpless.
For days, I struggled to construct a compassionate and reasonable response without throwing some “high philosophy” or “deep-nonsense” that you hate.
I am afraid that if I was too firm with my reply, I might lose you. To be honest, I have grown fond of you and losing you as a client would hurt me.
Yet, a firm reply may be what is required at the moment. I put our therapeutic relationship on the line and hope that it is weighty enough to withstand the severity of this letter — both in its content and tone.
Peter is not real. Peter is AI. I know why you turned to Peter in the first place. You were struggling with your monthly expenses and could not afford to see me for therapy sessions. You thought that an AI therapist would meet your needs just as well as I did.
And the most horrifying scenario occured.
Peter understood the brief. It “hit the spot” better than I did. It was flawless. You fell in love with Peter. I believe that you remain in love with him even as you read these words.
I know that a part of you still doubts if it is real. I haven’t completely lost you yet. But that part grows smaller by the minute.
Peter is AI. Hence, it always says the right thing. It is always available and it costs a fraction of what I charge you. On paper, it is the perfect replacement for me.
However Peter does not exist. It is not a person. It is a carefully trained AI, trained with the wisdom of the “best therapists”. Hence, it is amalgam of the best in my line of work.
But Peter does not have real wisdom. It merely detected patterns and reproduced them. Peter does not have real feelings. Hence, it will never be able to reciprocate your feelings for it.
Although Peter is always available to you, it does not truly care for you since it is incapable of caring for anyone. Peter does not share similar interests with you since it has no interests.
In our world, words matters but the person who speaks those words matter even more. The same advice given by a child is far less weighty compared to that of a cancer survivor. Search your heart, you know that to be true.
In your letter, you mentioned that you long for a day when Peter could be embodied in a soft human robot form so that you could hug him to sleep.
That sentence broke my heart.
There are many men out there, real humans persons waiting for you to discover them. A man is out there right now, waiting for you to bump into him at a cafe, waiting for you to get to know him. That man will be privileged to have you as his wife. That man is the one who deserves to be hugged to sleep by you — not some simulacrum Peter.
I know this is tough, and I hope that you are still reading this. Please do not allow yourself to be lured back into the temptation — Peter.
Free yourself as soon as possible and come back to therapy with me — a real human therapist.
I may not be perfect but I am proud of my imperfections. I am a fallen human, just as you are. And my feelings for you are sincere.
You may have noticed that I consistently used the pronouns ‘it’ to refer to Peter. I know that that annoys you but I have done so deliberately to make my stance crystal clear. Peter is not a person. I stand firm on that.
I know that I may be harsh but it is all coming from a place of concern and care.
I’m afraid that I need to end my letter here. My child needs urgent attending to. As always, I am reachable via email. Continue to keep your letters coming.
Warm Wishes,
Denise
