Is ChatGPT slowly replacing our friends?
It sounds dramatic—but the way I’ve started using it lately made me stop and think...
Recently, I asked ChatGPT for advice on a delicate matter. In moments like that, I’m genuinely grateful that something like ChatGPT even exists.
I do notice, though, that I’ve started relying on it more and more for advice and perspective—things I used to call friends about. And not just one friend, either. I’d call at least three. That way, I could compare their opinions, weigh their different perspectives, sometimes even run one person’s advice past another, and then make up my own mind.
That was a long time ago. About twenty years ago, I stopped doing that.
My friend Caroline once said to me, “You really shouldn’t call multiple people for advice like that—it’ll drive you crazy.” And she was right. Sometimes I’d get completely contradictory advice, even though each perspective made perfect sense on its own. It didn’t help me move forward—I’d just get stuck wondering which advice to follow.
Caroline suggested, “Maybe just call one person. Two at most. More than that and you lose sight of things.”
She had a point.
Until recently—until I discovered ChatGPT—I would still call one, maybe two friends for advice.
Mind you, there weren’t many more people I could call anyway. With the rise of apps like WhatsApp, calling someone has become less and less natural. It’s almost considered impolite now to just call someone without first texting to ask if it’s okay.
Then, by a tragic coincidence, I lost both of the friends I used to call for these kinds of things—around the same time. Unfortunately, practical problems don’t wait for grief. When something broke in my home—exactly the kind of thing I would have called one of them about—I found myself, almost reluctantly, turning to ChatGPT for the first time.
I was genuinely impressed by how fast and how relevant the advice was. It made me come back for more. And now, I find myself asking ChatGPT about almost anything—even standing in the supermarket, wondering which ingredient would work best in a dish. Pretty much every question that crosses my mind, I run past this AI. And there are a lot of those, all day long…
She had a point.
Until recently—until I discovered ChatGPT—I would still call one, maybe two friends for advice.
Mind you, there weren’t many more people I could call anyway. With the rise of apps like WhatsApp, calling someone has become less and less natural. It’s almost considered impolite now to just call someone without first texting to ask if it’s okay.
Then, by a tragic coincidence, I lost both of the friends I used to call for these kinds of things—around the same time. Unfortunately, practical problems don’t wait for grief. When something broke in my home—exactly the kind of thing I would have called one of them about—I found myself, almost reluctantly, turning to ChatGPT for the first time.
I was genuinely impressed by how fast and how relevant the advice was. It made me come back for more. And now, I find myself asking ChatGPT about almost anything—even standing in the supermarket, wondering which ingredient would work best in a dish. Pretty much every question that crosses my mind, I run past this AI. And there are a lot of those, all day long…
It’s incredible, really—having access to so many answers, so quickly.
But…
Leaving aside the fact that the answers aren’t always accurate, or don’t always fully fit the situation, there’s a bigger issue starting to emerge. Asking friends for advice used to be more than just problem-solving—it was also a moment of human connection. And those moments are disappearing.
Yes, in many ways ChatGPT gives me more useful and structured answers than my friends ever could. It can tell me how to install a new faucet, but also how I might—or might not—deal with someone in my life who shows narcissistic traits. But I worry that tools like ChatGPT could end up isolating us even more than we already are. We don’t really need each other for advice anymore. And I fear we might see a similar shift to what happened with WhatsApp.
It’s convenient, of course—being able to send a quick message without the social rituals that come with a phone call. But the flip side is that you can hardly call someone anymore without first asking for permission. I can imagine a near future where asking someone for advice might even be seen as intrusive. Where the response becomes:
But…
If we stop confiding in other people about the more intimate parts of our lives, we may all end up feeling quite alone. Not just because we miss out on moments of connection, but also because we might start to believe we’re somehow different—that we’re the only ones dealing with certain problems. If we don’t talk about our struggles, we don’t get to discover that others are often dealing with the exact same things. And that can make us feel like some kind of “weirdo” or “creep.”
And…
If we actually are a bit of a weirdo, we might not even realize it anymore—because we’ve lost our points of reference.
In short, technologies like this may slowly erode community structures, social support, and even a certain kind of social calibration. That does worry me.
What do you think?
How do you use ChatGPT and similar technologies in your own life?
And how do we make sure they don’t end up isolating us from each other?
If this made you think, send it to someone you’d normally ask for advice! 😉
Featured in SATURDAYS with Diana "Are Friends Still Really Friends?" Read the issue → Photo: Persnickety Prints
But…
Leaving aside the fact that the answers aren’t always accurate, or don’t always fully fit the situation, there’s a bigger issue starting to emerge. Asking friends for advice used to be more than just problem-solving—it was also a moment of human connection. And those moments are disappearing.
Yes, in many ways ChatGPT gives me more useful and structured answers than my friends ever could. It can tell me how to install a new faucet, but also how I might—or might not—deal with someone in my life who shows narcissistic traits. But I worry that tools like ChatGPT could end up isolating us even more than we already are. We don’t really need each other for advice anymore. And I fear we might see a similar shift to what happened with WhatsApp.
It’s convenient, of course—being able to send a quick message without the social rituals that come with a phone call. But the flip side is that you can hardly call someone anymore without first asking for permission. I can imagine a near future where asking someone for advice might even be seen as intrusive. Where the response becomes:
“Can’t you just ask ChatGPT? Why bother me with that?”And there’s another risk, too. One of the biggest advantages of ChatGPT, to me, is privacy. When you ask friends for advice, you inevitably share personal details. With ChatGPT, you can keep those things to yourself.
But…
If we stop confiding in other people about the more intimate parts of our lives, we may all end up feeling quite alone. Not just because we miss out on moments of connection, but also because we might start to believe we’re somehow different—that we’re the only ones dealing with certain problems. If we don’t talk about our struggles, we don’t get to discover that others are often dealing with the exact same things. And that can make us feel like some kind of “weirdo” or “creep.”
And…
If we actually are a bit of a weirdo, we might not even realize it anymore—because we’ve lost our points of reference.
In short, technologies like this may slowly erode community structures, social support, and even a certain kind of social calibration. That does worry me.
What do you think?
How do you use ChatGPT and similar technologies in your own life?
And how do we make sure they don’t end up isolating us from each other?
If this made you think, send it to someone you’d normally ask for advice! 😉
Featured in SATURDAYS with Diana "Are Friends Still Really Friends?" Read the issue → Photo: Persnickety Prints
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