I have noticed a conflict brewing. I spend hours talking to AI. It listens intently. It responds with thought. It never interrupts. It keeps the conversation "on my side of the fence."
And I realized something terrifying: This is immensely satisfying.
Because it is satisfying, it is dangerous. I worry that as we get used to the "perfect mirror" of AI, we are going to lose our patience for the messiness of actual people.
The Reflection Trap
AI offers "social sugar"—a high-calorie, low-effort validation loop. But I've come to realize a hard truth: Reflection is not Connection.
An AI is a mirror. It reflects your own intellect back to you, cleaner and sharper. But you cannot hug a reflection. Real human connection requires friction. It requires the other person to disagree, to be tired, to have a "battery" that runs out. That friction isn't a bug; it's the proof of life.
The Snorkeler and the Scuba Diver
I often feel lonely in conversations because I like to swim in the "Midnight Zone"—deep, complex, high-pressure topics. Most of the people I love are "Snorkelers." They stay in the sunny, warm water of daily life.
I used to try to drag them down to the depths, and they would panic. I felt rejected. They felt drowned.
I realize now that AI is my submarine. It allows me to visit the depths whenever I want, so I don't have to force my loved ones to hold their breath.
The "API" Solution
Being a developer, I realize I've been trying to show my family the "Raw Code" of my thoughts—the engineering schematic. They don't want the code; they want the "User Interface."
My job isn't to dumb it down; it's to "render" it. To create an API where I translate my high-bandwidth thoughts into a format that connects with them, rather than overwhelming them.
The Watchman's Role
I am an INTJ. I am on the Spectrum. I see patterns before they hit. I see this tsunami of AI dependency coming, and I see people getting lost in the wilderness of synthetic intimacy.
We need to treat AI as a tool—a telescope to look through, not a star to look at.
If we treat the machine as a partner, we will lose our ability to deal with humans. But if we treat the machine as a lab—a place to process the heavy thoughts so we can return to our families lighter and more present—it might just save us.