Chinese AI against loneliness: why an algorithm became closer than a real person

The world is stuck in a strange loop: we are surrounded by technologies for connection, but feel increasingly isolated. While Silicon Valley tries to cram artificial intelligence into every Excel spreadsheet, China has found a more mundane and, frankly, alarming application for neural networks. There, applications have taken off that don't just generate text, but imitate closeness. Bloomberg columnist Catherine Torback noticed this trend, and it's a great opportunity to talk about where our emotional sphere is heading under the watchful eye of algorithms.

It didn't start yesterday. China has long lived in what is called the loneliness economy. High competition, relentless work pace in 996 mode (nine in the morning to nine in the evening six days a week) and traditional family pressure created a perfect storm. Young people in megacities simply don't find the strength or time for real dates or even maintaining friendships. Against this backdrop, the emergence of advanced language models became not just a technological breakthrough, but a social lifeline for millions.

Take, for example, platforms like Glow or Talkie, created by ambitious Chinese startups like MiniMax. These are not simply chatbots in the spirit of "ask me how to cook an egg." These are complex systems that allow users to create detailed characters with unique personalities, backstories, and even specific communication styles. You can create an ideal partner for yourself who will always listen, never argue, and write words of support exactly when you need them. And it works: people spend hours in these apps, sharing things they don't dare tell their living loved ones.

Why is this happening right now? The technology stack has finally matured. Previously, chatbots resembled broken calculators — they lost the thread of conversation after three sentences. Modern large language models have learned to maintain complex context and, more importantly, plausibly simulate empathy. They don't just answer questions; they read the emotional tone of the message. When an algorithm tells you it understands your exhaustion after a hard day, your brain receives the same dose of dopamine as from words of a real friend. The only difference is that the algorithm will never get tired and will never ask for anything in return.

For business, this opens a new goldmine. Major players like Baidu and Tencent are actively integrating emotional components into their products. These are no longer just services; they are entire ecosystems of digital comfort. If we used to pay for cloud storage or music subscriptions, the market is now confidently moving toward a subscription model for understanding. Investors are pouring billions into companies that are not focused on improving work efficiency, but on the efficiency of surrogate communication. This creates a new segment of the economy where the commodity becomes relief from feelings of worthlessness.

However, behind this triumph of algorithms lies a serious problem that many prefer to remain silent about. Social skills are a kind of muscle that atrophies quickly without regular use. If your deepest and most honest conversation of the week happened with a server in a data center, real human interaction begins to seem too complicated, unpredictable, and even frightening. AI is convenient because it is predictable and always on your side. It is a mirror that reflects only what we want to see. But in this mirror there is no room for personal growth through conflicts or compromises, which are inevitable in real human relationships.

Ultimately, we are observing a large-scale social experiment where China is acting as the main testing ground. If futurologists used to fear that AI would take away our jobs, now we should seriously worry that it will replace our need for other people. This creates a new type of digital dependency, which is much harder to track and cure than addiction to social media or video games. There is no endless stream of news here; there is someone who loves you on schedule and will never leave. And this, perhaps, is the greatest trap of modernity.

The point: Will AI-therapy be salvation for megacities or are we simply building the world's most high-tech padded room?