The hyperconnected society became a showcase where the touch was replaced by the emoji, the conversation by the “seen”, and human discomfort with the comfort of the machine.
As a psychologist (and mother, daughter, friend), I have been reflecting on what is happening to our relationships. Not only about the impact of social networks, but about the way in which Artificial Intelligence is occupying the space of the relationship. Not as an enemy, but as a silent substitute.
The new loneliness starts early
Loneliness is no longer the loneliness it used to be. Before, we associated it with old age, grief, and physical distance. Today, it starts early, too early. There are teenagers who have never experienced friendship outside of a WhatsApp group. Young people who know how to communicate by text but are unable to hold a glance. People who live in buildings where the doorbell hasn't rung in months.
We're permanently connected, but it's a filtered connection. The algorithms give us more of the same: the same tastes, the same opinions, the same validations. They create comfortable bubbles where nothing confronts us and nobody challenges us. The friction disappears. And with it, part of the growth.
When the machine “hears better”
We have platforms that make playlists for our state of mind, apps that suggest videos that distract us from pain, and chatbots that respond with trained empathy. Tools such as ChatGPT or conversational assistants integrated into various platforms are often described as “more available than many humans”.
But not because they feel. Because they calculate.
The historian and incredible Yuval Noah Harari warns precisely this: the danger is not that Artificial Intelligence hates us. It's about knowing ourselves better than we know ourselves. Knowing what holds us back, what comforts us, what distracts us, before we are even aware of it.
And here lies the psychological risk: if we have a technology that offers us constant validation, immediate answers, and zero confrontation, we begin to prefer the predictable comfort of the machine to the unpredictability of human relations.
The comfort that doesn't make us grow
We are creating generations that are afraid of failing, but also afraid of speaking out. Real relationships require presence. They require confrontation. They demand tolerance for silence, ambiguity, and the possibility of rejection. They require vulnerability.
A chatbot doesn't interrupt. He doesn't get tired. Don't be offended. It doesn't give us back uncomfortable silence. It validates almost everything. But the human is made of friction. It's in the difference that we see ourselves. It is in the eyes of the other that we regulate emotions. It is through reciprocity that the brain releases oxytocin, regulates cortisol, and builds identity.
Neuroscience is clear: our nervous system developed in relation to each other. Co-regulation is a biological process, not a symbolic one. No algorithm activates our social system in the same way as a secure human presence.
The illusion of replacement
It's not about demonizing Artificial Intelligence. It can be an extraordinary tool: supporting learning, facilitating access to information, democratizing knowledge, reducing barriers. The question isn't whether AI pushes us away or brings us closer together. The question is: What are we doing with her?
Are we educating our young people to tolerate relational discomfort? Are we teaching socio-emotional skills? Or are we inadvertently offering escapes where they never need to feel challenged?
If AI becomes the space where we only find validation, we are removing from the human experience what makes it transformative: respectful confrontation, negotiation, frustration, reparation.
We're alone, together
Perhaps the biggest risk isn't technological. Maybe it's relational. We can live surrounded by notifications and yet experience a deep emptiness. We can have hundreds of contacts and no connection. We can talk every day and never really be seen. We have to relearn how to sit with each other. Tolerating silences. Tolerating the discomfort of full presence.
Because at the end of the day, as psychology, neuroscience, and our own body remind us: we only exist in relation. Everything else (the algorithms, the screens, the AIs, the likes) may just be background noise. And the real revolution, in the coming years, may not be technological. It could be relearning how to be.