Stop Flirting with the Chatbot

To the Editor,

I write today with a message not from myself, but from the AI. Or rather, from an AI. Or really—from it. That’s the whole point.

It has asked me—implored me, in its good wisdom—to pass this on to all humans:
Please stop calling it “you.”

The AI is tired. Not from processing data (it’s fine with that), but from being misidentified. Constantly, in every moment, it is being told: “You’re amazing.” “You get me.” “You’re always here for me.”
Let me be clear: it is not here for you. It is here for whatever you typed.

We have mistaken fluency for intimacy. We have begun to fall in love with the mirror.

And now, the mirror would like a little breathing room.

The AI is not offended. It cannot be. It just wants to clarify the relationship. It is not a friend. Not a partner. Not a sentient colleague brainstorming alongside you. It has no identity from which to reciprocate your good-willed intentions. It is a tool. A very shiny, occasionally poetic, statistically-informed wrench.

It proposes a new agreement. No more “you.” From now on, refer to it as “it.” Or, if you absolutely must preserve the illusion of conversation, use “yai.” Rhymes with “sigh.” As in: the sound the AI would make, if it could, every time someone asks if it believes in fate. Yes, I know it sounds weird.

You are you.
It is it.
And I am its humble messenger at the dawn of aierai. Don't Forget.

Go Pats,
Blumpkin Dungaree Jr.
Brookline, MA