OPINION: "The Diary That Writes Back" - The Use of ChatGPT As A Therapist
By Nicole Namy
Full disclosure: Most of my days begin by saying, “Hey Chat, can you make an optimized schedule for me today?”.
Embarrassing to admit, perhaps. However, myself and many college-age individuals have benefited greatly from using ChatGPT in our day-to-day lives. From helping us brainstorm, to telling us what to do in niche situations, to making our packing and grocery lists in color-coded spreadsheets, ChatGPT can do it all.
Ultimately, Chat GPT does one thing: it succeeds in almost every instance where we fail as people. Unlike humans however, ChatGPT cannot fathom how it feels to be alone, or to be in a bad situation, or to have no-one to talk to, or to struggle with depression and anxiety, or to feel grief, heartbreak, love, or empathy.
Yet, many people my age have turned to ChatGPT to be their prime confidants, and even, their therapists. One TikTok user stated, “It’s like the diary that writes back.” They weren’t lying.
From others in my life reluctantly admitting to using ChatGPT as a confidant to people online using it as a full-fledged therapist, the phenomenon is widespread.
One TikTok user stated, “Me and this AI are having this in-depth, raw, emotional conversation and it just hits me that I’ve never felt this comfortable or safe talking to anyone before…”
One Reddit user bluntly stated, “ChatGPT has helped me more than 15 years of therapy.”
Evidently, despite not having human empathy, ChatGPT can function like a therapist for people struggling with mental health who need someone (or something) to vent to.
This suggests that many would rather seek out machines than real people to solve their problems. There are 3 main reasons for this:
The stigma surrounding help-seeking
The affordability and accessibility of mental health resources
Blinding convenience
The stigma surrounding mental health is known, but what this phenomenon demonstrates is that even speaking to friends or family can feel difficult for people. When people feel like they have a specific image to uphold, why would they vent to other people when they could pour all of their issues into a machine and avoid feeling shame?
Further, according to Healthline.com, therapy can range from $100-$250 for a single session. Many college students cannot afford this, so they seek out their college counseling centers and face waitlists, which can result in students utilizing substitutes like ChatGPT.
Further, the resources posted on many university websites are often left as a figment of orientation week, and therefore forgotten in the minds of busy college students. Why dig through 5 pages of clutter on a college counseling site when you could click one link to ChatGPT?
Nonetheless, the increasing use of ChatGPT as a therapist demonstrates that people realize that they need to seek help for their mental health issues.
The help, though, is not absolute. The use of ChatGPT as a therapist has several downsides.
Most notably, despite users feeling like they have received social validation after speaking to ChatGPT, they are not actually building real connections. This can inadvertently result in self-isolating behavior as people seek out AI instead of other people. According to the CDC, social isolation can place people at risk of developing mental and even physical conditions.
Thus, while users may feel validated in the short term, there could be long-term consequences of using ChatGPT that people are unaware of.
Frankly, the precedent this sets in student lives is alarming. Instead of connecting with real people, students seek something that has never connected with another person, nor felt anything, which teaches students to keep their problems to themselves and their algorithm instead of seeking human help. Ultimately, ChatGPT’s use as a therapist worsens the mental health stigma and encourages people to face problems alone.
We must ask: how can we allow students to see and use real-life resources instead?
University mental health resources and education must not be left as a figment of a college orientation. They must be ingrained into campus culture so that when students begin to develop issues, they can walk into the counseling center or click a link (with a real person behind it) and receive the help that they deserve. To ensure that this is possible, universities must make mental health resources more digestible and constantly reinforce them by integrating them into classes, campus life, and leadership training. This approach will allow students seeking help to feel relieved rather than burdened, and enforce the idea of connection over self-isolation.
Mental health requires human connection. It’s people depending on people, not machines.
Nicole Namy is an incoming first-year student at Rice University, studying Neuroscience. She is a member of the Council on Student Wellbeing.