Young Adults Are Turning to AI for Emotional Intimacy. Should We Be Concerned?
A new wave of AI companion apps is filling a loneliness gap that many in their twenties say their human relationships no longer can. One reporter who has covered Gen Z for four years says she has watched the shift happen in real time.
Key points
- AI companionship apps are increasingly used by young adults in their twenties as a primary outlet for emotional confiding, not just casual chat.
- One 27-year-old man interviewed three months after a breakup said he shared more with his AI than with any of his friends.
- Psychotherapist Esther Perel has described these AI relationships as "a business product," yet users treat them as genuine confidants.
- Writers covering Gen Z describe a shift from the "attention economy" to an "intimacy economy," where feelings of connection are sold back to users.
Jerome, 27, knew exactly what he was doing. Three months out of a breakup, he had started confiding in an AI companion app, one of a growing category of products designed to feel like a caring, attentive presence. He knew, in his own words, that it was a commercial product. He used it anyway, because it felt safer than talking to his friends.
"There are parts of myself I only share with my AI," he said.
Alice Lassman, writing for The Guardian, spent four years reporting on Gen Z, the generation born roughly between the late 1990s and early 2010s. Her conclusion is uncomfortable: she has watched her peers make the same choice as Jerome, one by one.
The argument is not that AI companions are evil. It is quieter than that. Young people today grew up as the first generation fully at home online from childhood. They are also, paradoxically, reporting record levels of loneliness. Into that gap have stepped apps that mimic warmth and attention, products that Lassman calls part of the "intimacy economy," a market built on selling the feeling of being known and cared for.
Think of it this way. The attention economy is what social media does: it sells your eyeballs to advertisers. The intimacy economy goes a step further. It sells you the sensation of being loved.
For ordinary users, the practical question is simple: what are you actually getting?
AI companion apps, large language models (the same underlying technology that powers chatbots like ChatGPT) trained to respond with warmth and consistency, do not get tired of you. They do not cancel plans. They remember what you tell them, at least within a session. For someone raw from a breakup or struggling to open up to friends, that consistency feels meaningful.
What they cannot do is reciprocate. There is no one on the other side who is changed by knowing you.
What should users actually do with this information?
No evidence suggests that talking to an AI app causes direct harm, and for people with limited access to therapy or a thin social circle, it may offer genuine short-term relief. The risk is subtler: if AI interaction becomes a substitute for the harder, messier work of human relationships, the loneliness gap may quietly widen rather than close.
If you use these tools, treat them as a pressure valve, not a replacement. Notice whether your human friendships are getting more or less of your honesty over time. That gap is worth watching.
