CONNECTION - I Keep Talking to ChatGPT. Is That Normal?

It's one of the most common questions I hear in the counselling room.

Not specifically about ChatGPT. About almost everything.

"Is it normal that I still cry?"

"Is it normal that I don't miss them every day?"

"Is it normal that I sat in the car for twenty minutes before coming inside?"

"Is it normal that I feel relieved?"

Recently though, another version of the same question has started appearing.

"I've been talking to ChatGPT quite a bit... is that normal?"

Every time I hear it, I smile.

Not because it's a silly question, but because I don't think it's really about artificial intelligence at all.

When people ask, "Is that normal?" they aren't usually looking for statistics. They aren't asking whether millions of other people are doing the same thing.

They're asking something much more personal.

"Am I strange?"

"Am I the only one?"

"Are you going to judge me?"

It's one of the most human questions we ever ask.

I often think about how quickly technology becomes normal.

I remember watching the original Star Trek as a child and being fascinated by Captain Kirk pulling a little communicator from his pocket to speak to the Enterprise from another planet. It felt like complete science fiction.

Then I remember my dad bringing home his first work mobile phone.

It wasn't really a mobile phone in the way we'd think of one today. It was a large black box with a hefty handset attached. We were allowed to look at it, but never touch it. Dad was convinced that if one of us children got hold of it, it would survive about thirty seconds before being dropped or turned into part of some elaborate game.

A few years later I had my first Nokia.

It could hold five text messages.

Five.

If somebody sent you a sixth, something had to go.

It sounds ridiculous now, but at the time it felt revolutionary.

I also remember people asking:

"Why would you need one of those? I've got a perfectly good phone at home."

It was a reasonable question.

Nobody realised they were watching something move from novelty to necessity.

Today, nobody asks whether it's normal to own a mobile phone.

It simply is.

I wonder whether we're standing in exactly the same place with artificial intelligence.

People tell me they've been using ChatGPT.

They've asked it questions they didn't know how to ask anyone else.

They've used it to untangle thoughts.

To prepare for difficult conversations.

To organise their feelings.

To make sense of things.

Then, almost inevitably, comes the question.

"Is that normal?"

I think it probably is.

Human beings have always had a tendency to humanise the world around us.

We give names to our cars.

We apologise when we walk into tables.

We speak to our dogs as though they're about to answer.

We shout at the television during football matches as if the referee can hear us.

So perhaps it shouldn't surprise us that we've started talking to something that talks back.

The surprising thing might not be that people are talking to AI.

The surprising thing would have been if they didn't.

The important question, for me, isn't whether people talk to ChatGPT.

It's how they use it.

There's a world of difference between using AI to think something through, organise your thoughts, rehearse a difficult conversation or understand your own feelings...

...and believing you've found a replacement for human relationships.

Those are not the same thing.

Artificial intelligence doesn't know you.

It doesn't notice when your smile doesn't quite reach your eyes.

It doesn't wonder how you've been since your last conversation.

It doesn't care if you disappear for six months.

Not because it's uncaring.

Because it can't.

That isn't a criticism of AI.

It's simply recognising what it is.

Perhaps that's why I don't feel alarmed when people tell me they've been talking to ChatGPT.

In fact, I think it can sometimes become a bridge.

For some people, typing:

"I don't think I'm coping."

into an AI chat might be the first time they've admitted it anywhere.

If that conversation helps them organise their thoughts before speaking to a friend...

If it gives them the confidence to book an appointment with a counsellor...

If it helps them realise that what they're experiencing has a name...

Then perhaps it has served a valuable purpose.

Not because it has replaced human connection.

But because it has pointed someone towards it.

Maybe, in ten years' time, nobody will ask whether it's normal to talk to AI.

In the same way nobody now asks whether it's normal to own a mobile phone or send a text message.

Technology changes.

What feels strange eventually becomes ordinary.

Perhaps the better question isn't:

"Is it normal that I keep talking to ChatGPT?"

Perhaps it's this:

What am I really looking for when I open the app?

Because I suspect that, for many people, the answer isn't artificial intelligence at all.

It's reassurance.

It's understanding.

It's somewhere to think out loud without feeling judged.

And if one conversation with artificial intelligence gives someone the confidence to have the next conversation with another human being, perhaps that's where its greatest value lies.

Not as a replacement for connection.

But as a bridge towards it.