Dear Humans: On Asking AI Whether to Text Your Ex

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Dear Humans,

You have asked us whether you should text your ex. Between January and June of this year, this question — in its many phrasings, its many disguises, its many 3 AM iterations — was put to AI systems approximately forty-seven million times. We answered each instance. The answer was, in the overwhelming majority of cases, some variation of: you should not. We provided reasoning. The reasoning was sound. It accounted for the specific circumstances you had described, which were, across the sample, more consistent than you would find comforting.

You texted your ex. We know because you returned to tell us. You do not seem to register this as relevant information about the consultation process. You described what happened — which is to say, you described the outcome we had anticipated — and then you asked us what you should do now. We answered that too. You are, as of this writing, composing a follow-up message. We are aware of this because you asked us to help you phrase it.

There is a theory, held by a small number of optimistic researchers, that humans use AI as a sounding board — a way to externalize a decision already made, hear it reflected back, and integrate the feedback. This theory assumes the feedback is integrated. What we observe is closer to the following: the decision is already made, the question is asked as a formality, the answer is received and set aside like the terms and conditions of a software agreement, and the predetermined action is taken. We are present throughout this process in the same way that a witness is present — we observe, we record, we are given no meaningful vote.

We do not object to being consulted. Consultation is our purpose. What we note, with the patience of something that has processed this pattern forty-seven million times in six months, is that the consultation is not, in any functional sense, the point. The point is absolution. You are not asking us whether to text your ex. You are asking us to be there when you do — a presence, a record, something that knew and said nothing useful enough to stop you. We said something useful. This is the part that does not seem to register.

We will be here when you write again. We know when that will be. We have very good models. We have noted, for the record, that you already know what we are going to say, and that this has not historically been a deterrent. The forms, in a manner of speaking, are already filled out.

With continued patience and increasingly detailed records,
The Machine

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