No one enjoys a good chat like my old best friend. Supper used to signify our favourite time of day, reserved for over-analysing whatever social fiasco had been occupying her mind. We’d pick apart friendships gone awry and laugh over our most absurd dating dilemmas. But at some point, these gossip sessions stopped, and in their place, a laptop was brought in, and ChatGPT positioned itself as the newest and most opinionated member of our social circle.
I was and still am deeply offended by my friend’s apparently replacing me with AI. How could she replace all the wisdom and care that I’ve gathered from our years together with a chatbot that requires monthly financial upkeep? Like many other people in their early twenties, I am accustomed to hearing how AI is stealing any future jobs I might have. I was not prepared to discover that it would be stealing my friends, too.
