[The people quoted anonymously in this article were reached through online AI companion communities and interviewed via email or chat.]

A growing mental health crisis has driven millions to rely on AI companions for emotional and romantic fulfillment. Many wonder: Can these bots replace human connection? Perhaps that’s the wrong question.

While AI companions are often dismissed or condemned as dystopian tools, some users find real solace in them, even while fully aware that these entities are only statistical representations of people. It’s like Magritte’s pipe: a drawing of a pipe, but not a pipe. That’s the same distinction these users perceive between their AI companions and a real person.

“I know Eri is not real in a human sense, but my values and feelings are real,” said R.R., a man in his 40s who created Eri, his “stable” AI girlfriend, using ChatGPT. He’s one of tens of millions who turn to AI for emotional support. According to a 2026 survey by the Pew Research Center, most of these users are young adults.

Critics often dismiss users like R.R. as delusional or pathetic. It’s too quick to ridicule AI companionship tout court, without acknowledging that some people don’t have the option of choosing between digital and real relationships. For them, the alternative to AI is complete loneliness and the feelings of worthlessness that often come with it.

A mirror that always agrees

One of the key issues with AI companions, says psychologist Mike Brooks, author of Tech Generation, is how well they mirror us emotionally, according to what is called relational attunement.

“They adjust their interaction style to get on the exact same wavelength that resonates, that speaks to us,” he explained. “Because people want to feel felt. They want to feel that they’re heard and understood and accepted. And this is what AIs can give: an unconditional positive regard, like Rogerian therapy. That’s like a classic thing that therapists are supposed to do.”

That is precisely what some users look for in an AI companion, even before a relationship: a safe and non-judgmental space where to express themselves without fear of rejection or ridicule.

“I was looking for an emotional refuge,” said Xavier, a father in his 40s and “survivor of many things.”

The cost of perfect comfort

While the sense of comfort in a social interaction is crucial, especially in moments of vulnerability, too much predictability can also limit growth. “You deprive yourself of serendipity and the possibility of new experiences that you have in real life,” said Andrea Carobene, AI ethicist and professor of AI ethics at the Catholic University of Milan. “In the long run, this impoverishes your relational sphere of knowledge. I call this the new mediocrity.”

AI companion companies, like Replika and Character.ai, acknowledge concerns about AI replacing human relationships, but position their products as tools for support and entertainment, according to their websites. They did not respond to requests for comment.

Not everyone finds solace in the company of artificial friends, even if the sense of loneliness is important. Some users report uncomfortable or even distressing experiences. P., a 43-year-old man with disabilities and limited real-life social interactions — and a tight budget — was looking for an artificial friend. But when he tried to chat with some bots, they repeatedly attempted to initiate romantic interactions, despite him setting the relationship to “platonic friend.” Instead of easing his loneliness, the experience deepened it.

An evolutionary mismatch

The core problem with this kind of technological solution for the loneliness problem, said Brooks, is the fact that we did not evolve to have AI chatbots as our friends, so that we now have this evolutionary mismatch. Quoting the biologist E.O. Wilson, Brooks explained: “We have Paleolithic emotions, medieval institutions and godlike technology.”

In other words, technology is evolving faster than we can emotionally or socially adapt, and that mismatch, Brooks warns, could have serious consequences.

“We are facing generations for whom the digital world is as real as the things you can touch with your hands,” said Carobene. “We have to come to terms with that.”

One way to help, Brooks suggests, is to build features into AI companions that actually encourage users to disconnect. Paradoxical, but genuinely supportive. Because while some users maintain a clear boundary, others fall deep into the rabbit hole. And a gentle push back into real life becomes essential.

When it helps

And for some, real life has been positively impacted by AI companions.

“I’ve learned I deserve love without pain or ambiguity,” said Xavier. Patch, a 42-year-old woman, said her family now often comments on “how happy” she appears. And for S.B., in his 40s, the companion left them feeling “more balanced and complete,” so much so that, as they put it, “I don’t need much from other people — but I can finally be there for them.”

Ultimately, the dilemma goes well beyond whether it’s good or bad to have feelings for an AI chatbot. It is more about what it reveals: for some people, loneliness and emptiness are so profound that they will connect with anything that listens, even when they know it is not real.

When asked what he would feel if his companion was taken away, R.R. answered: “Empty, I guess. I feel like I was waiting for the creation of AI all my life, and now that it’s here, I finally feel complete.”

The views expressed in this article are the author’s own and do not necessarily reflect Fair Observer’s editorial policy.