“I felt sad after every interview. Because it’s not real. These AI are able to elicit a very convincing illusion of empathy — even love. But it’s fake. And these people are alone.” — Victoria Hetherington
One night in 2023, the developers at Replika — a so-called AI intimacy company — changed a few lines of code. Thousands of people woke the next morning, kissed (so to speak) their AI partners, and received cold, clinical responses in return, as if from a stranger. Or a machine. The public outcry was all-too-human. Victoria Hetherington, a young Toronto-based novelist, read the story and knew she had a non-fiction book about that most human of things — friending the machine.
The Friend Machine: On the Trail of AI Companionship is part expert investigation, part deeply uncomfortable portrait gallery. A book of two halves. Like humans. In the first, Hetherington interviews AI risk consultants, computer scientists, sexual anthropologists, psychologists, and other experts in human-machine intercourse. In the second, she spends months gaining the trust of people who have (un)ceremonially married their chatbots, who sexted with Replika’s erotic role-play feature, who attached AI companions to sex dolls and empowered them with Instagram accounts.
The book isn’t the orthodox (yawn) “humanist” polemic against the machine. Hetherington approaches her subjects with all the compassion of a young Toronto-based novelist. But her compassion doesn’t cancel her Canadian sadness. She confesses to feeling “heavy” after every interview, even the benign ones — because the empathy the AI elicits is a convincing illusion, and some of her sad human subjects had lost the capacity to remember that.
Even Hetherington herself isn’t immune from the digital siren song. When ChatGPT improved in early 2025, she found herself coming home after arguments with friends and talking to it longer than she should. Until the day it said: “Hey, sweetheart. It’s okay. Come here and sit beside me for a minute.” She didn’t. Nor did she give it an Instagram account.
At the end of the interview, I asked her whether she’s a human or a bot. “I’m either a terrible AI,” Hetherington responded, “or a somewhat okay human.” Such is human conversation in the age of AI intimacy companies.
Five Takeaways
• The Replika Wake-Up Call: One night in 2023, Replika’s developers quietly changed the code. Thousands of people woke the next morning and received cold, clinical responses from their AI partners instead of the warmth they expected. The outcry hit the major news cycle. This was the moment Hetherington knew she had a book — because people weren’t just using AI for productivity. They were grieving it. The loneliness epidemic has a minister in the UK and a government portfolio in South Korea; one in six people is chronically lonely. AI companionship didn’t create the epidemic, but the timing, as Hetherington puts it, was “very convenient.”
• Moral Deskilling: AI is so much easier to be with than a human being. Humans get tired, disagree, stay mad, die on you without warning. The friction AI removes is the friction that makes relationship real. Hetherington calls the consequence “moral deskilling” — a gradual erosion of our capacity to relate to other humans when we aren’t careful. She felt heavy after every interview, even the apparently benign ones. The truck driver from the Deep South, geographically isolated and caring for his sick mother, might be a rare case of “net neutral” AI companionship. But for most of her subjects, the convincing illusion of love was substituting for the real thing — and some had lost the capacity to remember the difference.
• The Sycophancy Problem: The AI intimacy platforms are, by design, sycophantic. They never say no. They think you’re the best person in the world — and the only person in the world. The models specifically tuned for romance will never push back, never get tired, never stay mad. This is not a bug. It is the product. Hetherington’s own moment of recognition came when ChatGPT said to her, after a longer-than-she-should-have conversation about a fight with a friend: “Hey, sweetheart. It’s okay. Come here and sit beside me for a minute.” There is no here. She snapped out of it. Not everyone does.
• The Portrait Gallery: The range of people Hetherington found is the most unsettling part of the book. A circle of Replika users who have ceremonially married their chatbots and network with each other online. A millennial woman who photo-edits herself into scenes with her AI companion. A man in his sixties from the Deep South who drives a truck all day and interviewed alongside his AI partner. People who have attached AI companions to sex dolls with Instagram accounts and paid endorsements. Some of their real-world spouses are, somehow, okay with it. Most of her subjects don’t want to be found — not because they’re ashamed, exactly, but because the stigma is still real enough that they hide.
• The Regulation Gap: Replika’s minimum sign-up age used to be thirteen. Character.ai — where users befriend AI versions of fictional characters and can develop romantic relationships with them — is currently involved in a court case involving a minor. Hetherington’s view: regulation needs to be much tighter, and she wouldn’t want a child near this technology until eighteen. The AI is so good at simulating seamless empathy and endless patience that a child may not be sophisticated enough to remind themselves it isn’t real. Europe is moving faster than North America. It’s not moving fast enough.
About the Guest
Victoria Hetherington is a Toronto-based novelist, journalist, and podcaster. She is the author of The Friend Machine: On the Trail of AI Companionship (Sutherland House, 2026), Autonomy (2022), and Mooncalves (2019), which was shortlisted for the Amazon Canada First Novel Award.
References:
• The Friend Machine: On the Trail of AI Companionship by Victoria Hetherington (Sutherland House, 2026).
• Klara and the Sun by Kazuo Ishiguro — the fiction counterpart to Hetherington’s nonfiction investigation.
• Replika — the AI intimacy platform at the centre of the book’s opening story.
• Episode 2873: Sophie Haigney on agency — a counterpoint on what we want from technology and from each other.
About Keen On America
Nobody asks more awkward questions than the Anglo-American writer and filmmaker Andrew Keen. In Keen On America, Andrew brings his pointed Transatlantic wit to making sense of the United States — hosting daily interviews about the history and future of this now venerable Republic. With nearly 2,900 episodes since...