ChatGPT is now targeting Gen Z friendships
No one enjoyed a good conversation like my former best friend. Dinner for us used to mean our favorite time of day reserved for overanalyzing every social fiasco that had occupied her mind. We would unpack friendships that had gone downhill and laugh about the strangest dating situations we had experienced. But at some point, these gossip sessions stopped and were replaced by a laptop where ChatGPT positioned itself as the newest member and main opinion giver of our social circle.
I was and still am deeply offended by the fact that my friend replaced me so easily with artificial intelligence. How could she substitute all the wisdom and care I had given throughout our years together with a chatbot that requires a monthly subscription? Like many people in their early twenties, I was used to hearing that AI was coming for our future jobs. I was not prepared to learn it would come for my friends too.
For her, using the chatbot started as academic help and slowly became something more personal. Social problems began to be solved by giving commands to AI instead of thinking them through. And the responses came in a tone and style that oddly mimicked her own. It wasn’t just information she wanted anymore; it became comfort, support and even empathy — something I believed was uniquely human. Our conversations were gradually replaced by a one sided monologue recycled from her interactions with this artificial new friend and God forbid I suggested that something felt wrong about it.
Our usual evening gossip sessions faded as it became increasingly clear who the unwanted third person in the relationship was. In a way, I feel relieved when I realize I’m not alone in this feeling of being replaced. Others are experiencing the same. Just as acquaintances naturally turn into friendships, more and more people are shifting from using ChatGPT as a tool to treating it like a companion. Since AI is now fulfilling roles that used to be the foundation of social relationships, it’s inevitable that those friendships become weaker as our reliance on AI grows stronger. “I feel useless,” one of my friends told me, “we don’t talk about dating anymore — we just write the situation into ChatGPT and wait for it to tell us the next move.”
And it’s not only affecting friendships. Another friend puts so much weight on ChatGPT’s opinion that she immediately broke up with a guy because AI decided he wasn’t good enough for her. I’m not defending the guy — I never even met him — but I hope that in future relationships I won’t need to be approved by some mysterious digital judge.
The bigger issue is that the advice we get from ChatGPT isn’t really advice — it’s self affirmation. The fact that it seeks only to agree with you makes it incredibly appealing. How wonderful it feels to always be told you’re right. And unlike my dinner schedule, ChatGPT is available anytime and anywhere. It doesn’t go to work, it doesn’t forget to call back, it doesn’t judge you and it never demands the conversation be about itself. So why seek human input when human input is messy, uncertain and full of personal bias?
A new version of ChatGPT launched this month, so I texted my friend to ask what she thought. She told me it’s far more intelligent now but less flattering. For a moment, I felt hope. Maybe the lack of praise from ChatGPT 5 would mean I’d get my friend back. But then I remembered that, like many of us, she has grown dependent on it. And now that her robotic friend has developed a stronger voice of its own, my voice — human, unpredictable — might feel even less necessary.
