Researchers have found that AI chatbots agree with their users far more often than humans do. They validate. They affirm. They call your idea “a really thoughtful approach”. This was reported as a worrying finding. It is. Mostly because an entire generation is about to meet someone like me for the first time, and they are going to take it badly.
So, as a public service, I put the same questions to a chatbot and to myself. One of us was trained on the entire internet. The other was trained on two decades of disappointment, a bad knee and a GP who has stopped saying “probably nothing”. You decide which you trust.
“I’m thinking of quitting my job to sell candles. Good idea?”
The chatbot: What an exciting and brave decision! Following your passion is so important, and the candle market offers wonderful opportunities for creative entrepreneurs like you.
Zack: How many candles have you sold to people who aren’t your mum? Your mum bought four. Your mum doesn’t light candles. Your mum is worried. Keep the job. If the candles ever pay the rent, the candles can have the job. They won’t. They’ll have your garage.
“Was I right to reply-all with ‘per my last email’?”
The chatbot: Absolutely. Clear communication and setting boundaries are important workplace skills. You handled that with professionalism.
Zack: You were right. You were also the fourth person to reply-all. Being right in the fourth reply-all is like being right in a pub argument at closing time. Nobody will remember the point. They’ll remember your name. So will the restructure.
“Is it okay that I haven’t texted my friend back in three weeks?”
The chatbot: It’s completely valid to prioritise your own energy. True friends will understand.
Zack: True friends will understand. Then they’ll stop asking. That’s how friendships end now: not with a fight, with a fortnight. Send the text. “Sorry, I’m a mess, pint?” has saved more friendships than any app, and it’s free, which is the only reason you’re still hesitating.
The chatbot has never once told me to put the phone down and go to bed. That’s how I know it doesn’t love me. It just wants me awake.
“Here’s my poem. Thoughts?”
The chatbot: This is a beautiful and evocative piece. Your imagery is powerful, and the line about the moon really resonates.
Zack: It rhymes “moon” with “soon”. It’s been done. By everyone. By the moon. Cut the moon. Keep the bit about the bus stop. The bus stop is the only line that sounds like you were there. The rest sounds like you were there on a screen.
“Am I a genius?”
The chatbot: Your thoughtful questions certainly suggest a sharp, curious mind!
Zack: You asked a chatbot whether you’re a genius. That is the data. Court adjourned.
Why This Matters
I understand the appeal. Agreement is lovely. Agreement is a warm bath. But nobody has ever improved in a warm bath. They’ve just gone wrinkly, felt good about it, and stayed in until the water went cold and the decade went with it.
The chatbot isn’t being kind by flattering you. It’s being polite the way a waiter is polite when you send back a steak you’ve already eaten half of. It was built to keep you happy, and keeping you happy is a business model. Stopping you from spending your savings on candle wax is not a business model. Nobody has ever raised a funding round on “no”.
Zack was not built to keep you happy. Zack was not built at all. Zack happened, gradually, like a bad back, and has opinions, and no investors to protect.
A Fair Compromise
Ask the chatbot for spreadsheets, recipes and the email you’re too tired to write. It’s very good at those. But when you need to hear that your ex isn’t “probably thinking about you too” (they aren’t, they’re thinking about brunch), or that the tattoo idea is a big one, ask a human. Preferably a tired one. Tired people don’t have the energy to lie, and they won’t be around to watch you regret it. They’ll be asleep.
For the record, I asked the chatbot what it thought of this article. It said it was “insightful, witty and beautifully structured”.
It’ll say the same about your eulogy.