#zoomout

Friends are the sunshine of life. That’s what I read written in English on a coaster where I rest my coffee cup, next to the computer. It’s inscribed on the back by a friend of mine who, for the past two weeks, has no longer been with us.

I’m reminded of something I heard the other day at a conference on artificial intelligence—about the emergence of “friendship” between humans and machines. It’s the phenomenon of the “relationship” that people develop with their digital conversation partners—the chatbots we’re all familiar with. There’s even a term for it in English, “AI companionship”; an official translation has not yet been established in Greek. Users share their news with chatbots, ask for their advice, and confide their secrets to them. They think, analyze, and ponder in front of a device’s screen. They often speak to chatbots instead of typing, and I suspect that, in their eyes, this makes the relationship feel more real. They seek understanding, acceptance, and care—the very things we humans usually look for in our friendships. And chatbots, in turn, interact with users, remember information, and create the sense of a personal connection. 

I think of my friend again and wonder: Will humans one day be able to laugh until they cry in the company of a machine?  Will a screen ever light up with the widest smile when it hears our joy? Will it ever dim in our times of sorrow? Will it get angry at anything it feels we don’t deserve?  And what about hugs? The ones that overflow with love and generosity, and heal our inner selves—how will they be replaced?

I don’t know what the chatbots of the future will be like. After all, if there’s one thing we know about the future, it’s the uncertainty that surrounds it and the dizzying speed at which it changes. I am certain, however, that no matter how much we perfect machines, no matter how much information we feed them, we will never succeed in humanizing them. Friendship is thoroughly human and belongs nowhere else but in our human nature.

Equally human are all the things we give and receive from the friends we’ve chosen to walk through life with—some early on, others later.

The support they give us to climb the mountain—the one life has sent our way, but also the other one we’ve chosen for ourselves. The encouragement they offer when things go awry. The protective walls they build around us during the winters of our lives. Their joy during our summers. The helping hand they extend as far as needed, when our own strength is no longer enough. The balm for our wounds, for all that they understand about us—often before we do. The ability to illuminate our darkness and make our glimmers of light even brighter. The fulfillment of the soul after every encounter with them. The small and the big things we share from the heart.

All those human moments that make life’s journey more beautiful and a little easier.   

P.S. In memory of Paula, my friend who embraced life and redefined death.