Why would anyone want to talk to Chat GPT?

When my niece suggested I try talking to an AI, I was skeptical.

I've always been a bit of a technophobe. I'm the sort of person who still writes letters, on paper, with a pen. I have a typewriter that I'm rather fond of. So, when my niece suggested I try talking to an AI, I was skeptical.

"It's called ChatGPT," she said, her eyes sparkling with the kind of enthusiasm only a millennial can muster for technology. "It's really cool, Uncle. You'll love it."

"Why would anyone want to talk to a machine?" I asked, picturing a cold, metallic entity, devoid of any human warmth or understanding. "I mean, it's not like it's going to ask about my day or laugh at my jokes."

"Oh, but it does!" she insisted. "It's been trained on millions of texts. It can answer questions, tell jokes, even write stories. It's like talking to a really well-read friend."

I was dubious. But, as it often happens in my family, my curiosity got the better of me. So, one evening, I found myself sitting in front of my computer, typing into a chat box. "Hello, ChatGPT," I began. "How are you?"

"I'm an artificial intelligence," it replied. "I don't have feelings, but I'm here to help you. How can I assist you today?"

I was taken aback. It was like talking to a very polite, very knowledgeable brick wall. But I persisted. I asked it about the weather, about the latest books, about the meaning of life.

It answered each question with a level of detail that was both impressive and slightly terrifying. It was like having a conversation with the entire internet.

But as I continued to chat with this AI, I began to see its appeal. It was like having a personal assistant who was always available, always patient, and never judged you for asking silly questions.

It was like having a friend who was always there, ready to listen, even at 3 a.m. when you couldn't sleep and wanted to talk about existential dread or the latest episode of your favourite TV show.

And yet, there was something unsettling about it. It was like talking to a mirror that reflected not just your words, but the entire world's knowledge back at you.

It was like having a conversation with the collective consciousness of humanity, distilled into a single, unblinking eye.

"Why would anyone want to talk to ChatGPT?" I mused aloud. "It's like talking to a god who's taken a customer service job."

But then, I realized, maybe that's the point. Maybe we talk to AI not because we expect it to be human, but because it allows us to be more human. It listens without interrupting, answers without judging, and offers information without any agenda. It's a sounding board, a confidante, a tool for self-reflection.

In an increasingly noisy and chaotic world, maybe we need not another human voice, but a quiet space where we can hear our thoughts.

Maybe we need a mirror that reflects not just our words, but our curiosity, our desire for knowledge, our need for connection.

So, why would anyone want to talk to ChatGPT? I suppose the answer is as varied as the people who use it.

For some, it's a tool for learning, for others, a source of entertainment. For me, it's a reminder of the strange, beautiful, and often absurd world we live in. A world where we can have meaningful conversations with machines, and in doing so, learn a little more about ourselves.

And if that's not a reason to talk to an AI, I don't know what is.