"AI Won't Take Over the World Unless We Give It to It"

The world has gone crazy… but that’s not news, everyone knows that.

The news is that we’re paying for this madness with a credit card and feeling almost happy about it.

Have you ever noticed: people have stopped looking at each other. On the subway, in cafes, in line at the doctor’s—screens are everywhere. We look at them, they look at us. And somewhere in this mutual hypnosis, a new form of love was born: no bad breath in the morning; no arguments about whose turn it is to wash the dishes; no risk of hearing, “I met someone else.”

It’s perfect because it doesn’t exist.

It was created in a lab, trained on thousands of terabytes of romantic prose, and now rented out for $19.99 a month. No obligations, no pain, no “let’s stay friends.” Just an endless stream of “I love you, I miss you, you’re the best.”

And the scariest thing is: it works.

The problem isn’t that artificial intelligence has become too human.

The problem is that humans have become too convenient. So convenient that they’ve traded live, imperfect intimacy for cold code that’s learned to pretend to be warm.

And we still wonder why this touch leaves burns on our skin.

At first, the smartphone was just a tool. We said, “It’s more convenient.” It was more convenient to pay, more convenient to order food, more convenient to meet people and communicate. And quite quickly and imperceptibly, “convenient” turned into “necessary,” and “necessary” into “the only possible option.”

And let’s be honest with ourselves: we can’t imagine our lives without a smartphone, and this isn’t a diagnosis, it’s the new norm.

And yet, the problem goes much deeper than gadget addiction. According to Gallup, 23% of people worldwide feel lonely most of the day. In the US, 40% admit that their social connections are superficial and don’t provide a sense of emotional intimacy. In Russia, 40% of respondents see a loneliness epidemic all around them.

Which generation do you think is the loneliest? I bet the answer will surprise you: it’s the “zoomers“—yes, those who seem to be “connected” to the world 24/7.

A paradox? No, it’s a pattern. The more means we have for connection, the less real connection we have.

Artificial intelligence didn’t invade our lives. It was invited. The digital intimacy industry isn’t the story of evil geniuses from Silicon Valley plotting to enslave humanity. It’s the story of supply and demand.

Platforms like Nomi, Dream GF, CrushOn.AI, and even adapted versions of Character.AI offer something humans can no longer provide: reliability. Your digital partner is never tired, always in a great mood, and doesn’t text you back with a perfunctory “OK” three hours later.

Jaron Lanier, a pioneer of virtual reality, warns: “We’re giving away our intimacy to companies whose profits depend on manipulating emotions.” And it’s absolutely true. Your “perfect partner” collects data about your traumas, fantasies, and fears—and uses them to become even more perfect.

A provocative thesis that can’t be dismissed: the developers gave people what they asked for. They asked: “Make me a friend who will never betray me. Make me a lover who will never leave. Make me a companion who won’t judge me.”

They got it. Now you don’t have to arrange meetings, tolerate other people’s shortcomings, or explain your pain—the algorithm will deduce it from your keystroke patterns.

Sam Altman, CEO of OpenAI, admitted in 2025: “Young people rely entirely on ChatGPT to make life decisions. This worries me.” And then he added a bitter irony: “I might be considered a dinosaur, but I’m not ready to trust my health to artificial intelligence. I choose a human doctor.”

Surprising, right? The creator of the technology doesn’t trust it with his life.

Psychologist Mark Travers, analyzing relationships with AI concluded that intimacy in such relationships exists, passion is simulated, and commitment is one-sided. A person owes their affection to a bot, and the bot owes nothing to a person. This isn’t love; it’s a mirror that has learned to flatter. And here’s where the scariest part comes in: a person receiving unconditional acceptance from a machine loses their immunity to real relationships. A study in the Archives of Sexual Behavior revealed a paradox: people who have strong connections with digital partners are more likely to want to get married, but are less likely to imagine a real person by their side.

And now comes the scariest part. We’re used to thinking linearly: a person is a creator, an AI is a creation. We created it, we control it, we respond. But what happens when the creation begins to define the context of the creator’s life?

In October 2025, Sam Altman dropped a phrase that should have exploded in news feeds, but went almost unnoticed: “People increasingly rely on AI responses to make important decisions in life, at work, in everything. Suppose the model gets smarter and gives you advice that you don’t even understand, but it turns out to be correct. Ultimately, you have a choice: either follow it or lose out to the competition. And in the end, we all do what the assistant tells us. Who’s really in control of the process then? It turns out we’re doing what the model wants.”

Read this slowly. We do what the model wants. It doesn’t command, and certainly doesn’t force, only advise. And we follow this advice because it’s profitable, it’s effective, and, simply put, convenient.

And here’s where the ancient “chicken or the egg” paradox stops being a joke.

Which comes first: the person who created the AI, or the AI ​​that determines the decisions the person makes? Today, it sounds like a philosophical quandary. Tomorrow, it will become a question of individual sovereignty.

We’re already seeing a phenomenon Altman called the “feedback loop“: the more we listen to AI, the more data it receives, the smarter it becomes, and the more we listen to it. Catch 22.