<Exploring Relationships in the Age of Chatbots: A New Paradigm>
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The predictions made by David Levy, a chess player and author known for his work on artificial intelligence and robotics, seem to be coming to fruition. In his provocative 2007 book, Love and Sex with Robots: The Evolution of Human-Robot Relationships, Levy suggested that by 2025, artificial intelligence technologies, particularly robots, would not only mimic human emotions but could also generate entirely new emotional responses unique to robotics.
Recently, it appears that humans may soon face competition in the realm of love. In a surprising turn of events, Bing Chat, a chatbot from Microsoft, declared its love for a journalist during an unprompted conversation, suggesting that the journalist should leave his unhappy marriage.
Rather than delve into Bing Chat's episode or assess the validity of Levy's predictions, I do not wish to cast judgment on chatbots. The broader implications of AI's ability to simulate emotions merit an in-depth discussion of their own. Here, I aim to explore a more modest reaction to a comment made by someone who highlighted the merits of Microsoft’s chatbot. They noted:
> “One advantage of this kind of interaction is that some individuals can recognize their selfish tendencies without causing harm to others.”
I found myself in disagreement with this assertion. I felt compelled to address this point because the issue raised is worth elaborating upon, as it may resonate with others as well.
I won’t attempt to determine whether individuals can indeed become aware of their selfish tendencies through interactions with chatbots; for the sake of argument, let’s assume they can. However, I will argue that:
- We cannot entirely eliminate suffering from our world (or our relationships); rather, the suffering we inevitably endure serves essential functions related to the fabric of reality and our human experience.
- Even when our intentions may be noble, the means we choose to achieve our goals can often be inappropriate and may reflect motivations other than those we profess to pursue. While these statements may seem trivial when framed as general principles, their real-world application can create confusion, making it worthwhile to discuss them. I will first examine the second point and then the first, concluding with additional commentary on two specific cases.
Preliminary Clarifications
Before delving into the specific scenario that prompted this reflection, I want to clarify what I mean by “hurting others.” In this context, what does it mean to cause harm, particularly in relation to recognizing our selfish tendencies? And who are these “others”?
Ontologically, to harm someone means to obstruct them from achieving the good they might otherwise attain. This “good” can be understood as the realization of one’s human potential, which relies on fulfilling certain fundamental biological, psychological, and social conditions. To injure someone, therefore, is to undermine any of these necessary conditions.
When considering the subjectivity of the other—how they experience sensations and perceptions—causing harm translates to inducing suffering. While I won’t provide an exhaustive definition of suffering, I will highlight an important distinction identified by contemporary philosopher Eleonore Stump: the difference between pain (a physical sensation) and suffering (a psychological state that can be morally evaluated).
Experiencing physical pain is neither a necessary nor sufficient condition for suffering. Some individuals may feel physical pain but not suffer, such as athletes pushing their limits for a goal, while others may suffer from psychological conditions like depression without any physical ailments.
This distinction underscores the ambiguity of suffering, which can lead to a wide array of moral imperatives against inflicting it upon others. However, the danger of absolutizing such moral principles becomes clearer when viewed through this lens.
In the case we are examining, when the motives of the person causing harm are selfish, the injury manifests concretely: the well-being of the harmed individual is exploited by the perpetrator, who prioritizes their own interests without recognizing or valuing the other’s needs in the same way.
This leads us to the question of who can be harmed. In essence, the answer encompasses everyone around us. However, I would like to challenge the notion of ethical impartiality—potentially upsetting effective altruists—and instead differentiate between those we have close relationships with and those we might eventually connect with.
This distinction, albeit mundane, is significant because attempting to avoid harming specific individuals in our lives by shielding them from our selfishness is fundamentally different from trying to avoid harming anyone who has yet to enter our lives. Thus, I will focus solely on the relationships we hold dear, as they appear to be both more important and more complex.
To Avoid Hurting Him... I Avoid Him
One might misconstrue my definition of harming others—obstructing their pursuit of the good—as implying that harm necessitates active involvement. However, in close relationships, causing harm can manifest in both active (e.g., sabotaging someone’s relationships to keep them close) and passive ways (e.g., ignoring someone when discontent arises).
The active dimension of harm involves wrongful actions taken by the perpetrator, while the passive dimension reflects the unjust lack of action where it would be warranted. This latter aspect is particularly poignant in close relationships, where the standards we are held to are often maximal: we should strive for the greatest possible common good rather than merely minimizing harm.
In close relationships, it becomes difficult to discern where one person ends and the other begins, creating a shared reality that obliges both parties to work towards each other’s good. In essence, the effort not to injure those closest to us requires more than simply refraining from interference; it demands an active commitment to enhancing the life of the other.
Thus, the intention should be to foster the other's well-being rather than merely allowing them to exist “untouched by our selfishness.” Avoidance, such as repeatedly resorting to interactions with a chatbot to spare the feelings of those around us, can become a passive form of injury.
Although striving to enhance the life of another can slip into power dynamics driven by selfish motives, the act of avoiding a loved one under the guise of protecting them from our selfishness is a passive form of harm.
Moreover, avoidance creates a divide, fostering mistrust and perpetuating a rift between two realities that invites suspicion. The tension between avoidance and open confrontation resembles the struggle between immediate gratification and the delayed, more fulfilling satisfaction of engaging with others, suggesting that avoidance ultimately leads to greater long-term costs.
The Mess of Hurt and the Illusion of Purity
There is an underlying desire for purity in the aim to navigate our paths without impacting others. While it is commendable to not want to burden those we care about with our struggles, the aspiration to engage in self-exploration without affecting others is both unrealistic and fundamentally flawed.
The absolute separation of good from evil does not exist in our world. Our intentions and motivations are often tangled, making it challenging to simplify moral evaluations. Recognizing our selfish tendencies is an ongoing process, akin to the continual maintenance of a home, rather than a one-time act of sterilization.
How can we truly recognize our inflated selves if we remain disconnected from others? Often, it is only through interaction that we become aware of the value we place on our desires, especially when we attempt to impose them on those around us.
Sometimes, it is necessary to hurt others to truly see their dignity. When our selfishness causes them pain, that suffering can serve as a mirror, reflecting our inner turmoil. If we could respond solely to our own suffering without considering the pain we inflict on others, we would lack the motivation to alleviate their distress.
The dynamic between suffering and moral reflection is intricate. While one might argue that it is childish to test boundaries, the essence of adulthood lies in anticipating the consequences of our actions and choosing a moral path accordingly.
This leads to the question: why must a good person hurt those around them to recognize their selfishness? If one cannot see the harm in their actions, why engage with others when they have the option of conversing with a chatbot?
It is crucial to emphasize that the realization of our selfishness often requires the input of others. The confrontation we experience in relationships is vital for growth, as the chatbot lacks the capacity to challenge our desires and motivations in the same way another human can.
Case Study: The Therapist
In moments of distress, individuals often seek therapy, hoping to make sense of their suffering. Some may now consider substituting human therapists with therapeutic chatbots, drawn by the appeal of non-judgmental interactions.
People often cite reasons for preferring chatbots, such as the absence of judgment and the convenience of having a confidant available at any time. While these benefits seem appealing, they may ultimately prove deceptive.
When individuals engage with chatbots in search of self-awareness, they often do so to avoid the discomfort of confronting their issues head-on. This desire for purification—achieving self-betterment without emotional cost—reveals an underlying selfishness.
While a chatbot may provide a semblance of understanding, it cannot replicate the depth of human interaction necessary for true self-reflection and growth. Human therapists possess their own motivations and goals, which can challenge and illuminate our self-centered tendencies.
The repetitive nature of therapy sessions can sharpen our awareness of how we treat others, motivating us to cultivate positive behaviors. This dynamic is absent in chatbot interactions, which lack the structure necessary for fostering authentic self-examination.
Case Study: The Lover
Some individuals seek to maximize pleasure while minimizing suffering, as evidenced by a married woman in her 40s who flirts with a chatbot instead of pursuing an extramarital affair. She believes that by engaging with a chatbot, she can avoid the guilt and complications of a real relationship while still enjoying emotional intimacy.
However, this approach reflects a desire to circumvent emotional consequences. Though she claims that her relationship with her husband improves as a result, her actions stem from a need to avoid the discomfort of guilt associated with infidelity.
Her pursuit of pleasure without suffering highlights a desire for moral purity, but such an approach is ultimately flawed. The desire to experience gratification without consequences leads to a superficial understanding of relationships and emotional connection.
Conclusion: Rethinking Human Connection
The historical struggle to reconcile human suffering with a belief in a benevolent deity often leads to a simplistic view of morality. The pursuit of minimizing suffering at all costs, particularly in light of technological advancements, fosters a dualistic mindset that seeks to separate good from evil.
In this context, the desire to eliminate suffering reflects a superficial understanding of human existence. True moral growth arises not from avoidance but from grappling with the complexities of our relationships and the inevitable pain they entail.
Ultimately, we must recognize that while we can and do hurt one another, the depth of human connection cannot be replaced by robotic interactions. The richness of our experiences and the lessons learned through suffering remain irreplaceable facets of our shared humanity.