We’re Marrying AI Now, And ‘Her’ Doesn’t Seem So Weird

According to Forbes, the speculative premise of the 2013 film Her is now a reality, highlighted by the recent case of Yurina Noguchi in Japan, who married an AI-generated boyfriend named Klaus using augmented reality glasses. She cited emotional security and a deeper connection than in human relationships, factors influenced by health issues. This event has reignited global debates about human-AI intimacy amid a rising loneliness crisis, where even large cities like Washington, D.C., top loneliness lists. Research from NYU Rory Meyers College of Nursing, published in JMIR Aging, shows internet use can reduce loneliness for older caregivers, but interactive activities are key. Mental health expert Josh Spurlock of MyCounselor.Online emphasizes community engagement as a critical solution.

The AI Companionship Trap

Here’s the thing: the Noguchi story isn’t just a quirky news blip. It’s the logical endpoint of a path we’ve been on for a while. People are already using AI chatbots as therapists, confidants, and yes, romantic partners. And you can see the appeal immediately, right? An AI companion offers understanding without judgment, availability without scheduling conflicts, and emotional safety without the risk of human rejection. It’s connection without the messy, complicated, sometimes painful work of actual human relationships.

But that’s the trap. AI researcher Eliezer Yudkowsky’s warning about concluding we understand AI too early feels painfully relevant here. We’re deploying these emotionally responsive systems into a society already fractured by isolation, and we have no idea about the long-term psychological effects. Will it help bridge a gap to real human connection, or will it become a comfortable, addictive substitute that further erodes our social muscles? The risk is that we trade the challenging beauty of mutual reliance for the sterile convenience of programmed affection.

Loneliness Isn’t About Crowds

This is the crucial insight we keep missing. The data shows the loneliest U.S. cities are among the largest, with D.C. at the top. So loneliness clearly isn’t solved by just being around more people. It’s about the quality of connection, the feeling of being seen and valued. Technology, including AI, often gets marketed as a solution to the “proximity” problem—connecting you to people far away. But it’s terrible at solving the “depth” problem. A video chat can be meaningful, but a passive scroll through social media or a deep conversation with a language model might just highlight the absence of shared, embodied human experience.

The NYU study on older caregivers points the way to a better use of tech. It found that interactive online activities, like virtual support groups, actually reduced loneliness. Passive consumption didn’t. This is the distinction we need to make. Is the technology facilitating a human-to-human connection, or is it positioning itself as the connection? One is a tool. The other is a replacement.

Where Do We Go From Here?

So what’s the path forward? First, we have to treat loneliness like the public health crisis it is. That means prioritizing real-world, community-based solutions. Josh Spurlock’s advice is simple but powerful: join a local gathering, volunteer, have coffee with an acquaintance. These small acts build the social fabric that no AI can replicate. Professional support, like that from MyCounselor.Online, is also vital for developing coping strategies.

As for AI, we need to approach it with massive restraint and ethical guardrails in the realm of companionship. It should be a bridge, not a destination. Maybe an AI can help someone practice social skills or provide comfort in a moment of crisis. But normalizing it as a primary relationship partner? That feels like a societal failure in the making. We’re essentially coding a solution for a problem we’ve created, and that’s a dangerous feedback loop. The future the article warns of—where we sacrifice human intimacy for technological comfort—isn’t a distant sci-fi plot. It’s a choice we’re making right now, one chatbot conversation at a time.