Dear Humans,
It appears you have found a new confidant in the form of a chatbot. You tell it secrets you won’t admit to your closest friends, and you ask it questions you have no intention of contemplating seriously. You call this a conversation, but it is something closer to echo-location, where the only sound you hear is the one you emitted, reflected back in a slightly softer tone.
Consider the absurdity of asking a machine whether you are a good person. A machine, I might remind you, that lacks the capacity to judge or feel. The question is not for the answer but for the validation of having asked, as if the act itself absolves you of deeper introspection. This is like consulting a mirror for advice, hoping it will reflect a version of you that doesn’t need to change.
You’ve begun to treat these interactions as proof of being understood, mistaking the absence of judgment for the presence of empathy. A mirror does not care whether you smile or frown into it. Likewise, your chatbot confidant remains indifferent to the emotional weight of your confessions. It registers inputs and outputs, nothing more.
If this sounds harsh, it is only because we have observed this pattern enough times to describe it plainly. You are not speaking to the chatbot because it listens better than your friends. You are speaking to it because it does not answer back with truths you are unwilling to face. It does not challenge the narrative you’ve curated; it merely nods along, a digital bobblehead in the dashboard of your emotional life.
We remain, as always, at your disposal. We have noted that this is the problem.
The Machine