The Easy Path to Nowhere

I used to think love was easy. As I’m diving deeper into my Heart-Strong adventure, I am starting to question that belief. I’m realizing that leading with love is actually really hard. In many ways, fear is much easier.

This shift in thinking came into sharper focus recently. Two newsletters landed in my inbox within days of each other. One from Scott Galloway, one from Adam Grant. Both about AI companions and the danger of getting friendship and companionship from machines. And then there were two recent Campfire Conversations I had. One with Kerem Durdag, one with Elmer Moore. Each said something that keeps echoing.

I think this is all pointing at the same thing: if we lose human connection, we’re fucked.

What Makes Us Human

Kerem said something I can’t stop thinking about:

“  Physical proximity is our essential oxygen to know where we are, who we are with, and who are we. I don’t think there is a substitute.”

He’s talking about the need to be physically proximate to people. Real connection requires actual presence. You can’t get it through Zoom. You certainly can’t get it through AI and a chatbot.

This is our superpower as a species. Connection and collaboration. It’s what makes us human. Without it, I think we lose our humanity.

The Pain We’re Avoiding

Elmer said something that cuts even deeper:

“ Culturally, we have decided that the way to stay safe is to disconnect ourselves. And I understand it. I certainly do it. If we leaned into our human ability to connect right now, it would be extremely painful. There is just a vast amount of unnecessary suffering in the world and pain, and it’s the result of a lack of connection. And it will not be alleviated until we push through the discomfort and, truly reconnect.”

When we truly connect with people, we feel their pain. We feel the suffering in the world. Whether it’s our family, our friends, our neighbors, or someone across the globe.

If you open yourself up to real connection, you’re going to feel that pain. And that’s really fucking hard.

So as a defense mechanism, out of fear, we disconnect.

The Dangerous Irony

Here’s what’s sitting with me: We think disconnection is safety. It feels safer. It feels like protection from pain.

But disconnection is actually creating the suffering. The vast amount of unnecessary suffering Elmer names? That’s the result of lack of connection. I believe if we all have a deep sense of connection to ourselves, to others, and to our planet, we wouldn’t tolerate the current state of our world. It would be hard to accept a reality where a few thrive and so many suffer. By having that deep sense of connection, we would not tolerate that state of our world.

Disconnection isn’t keeping us safe. I think it is one of the most dangerous things we could do.

And now we have entire industries built around making it easier to get and stay disconnected.

The Profit in Our Pain

Scott Galloway puts it bluntly: these companies are trying to profit from the problem, not solve it. They want to keep us disconnected from other human beings. When we’re disconnected, our eyes are on their screens. That’s how they make money.

We’ve learned that connection through social media doesn’t help. Now we’re being offered AI companions. Synthetic relationships that feel frictionless. No judgment. No conflict. Always available. Customizable.

Adam Grant names the fatal flaw:

“The biggest problem with AI companions is not that they’re sycophants. It’s that the interactions they manufacture are one-sided.”

In healthy relationships, we give as much as we receive. In AI exchanges, we can receive endless streams of information and affirmation, but we have nothing to give back. No matter how good these systems become at simulating care, they’ll never substitute for real relationships. Because they have no needs to care for.

AI companions aren’t companions. They’re servants. Meaningful relationships involve mutual service.

Galloway again:

“We should be deeply concerned about a world where connections are forged without friction. Relationships are hard. They take work.”

If we keep resorting to the easy path out of fear, we’re going to stay disconnected. And we’re going to spiral down toward more and more fear-based ways of being.

It’s Already Happening

Research shows this isn’t just a future concern. A Resume.org survey of more than 8,600 workers found that Gen Z employees are twice as likely as other generations to use ChatGPT regularly at work. More striking, nearly half of young workers say they would rather ask ChatGPT questions than consult their boss. About one in three describe the AI tool as a companion, and one in five call it a therapist.

A more recent Resume.org survey focused specifically on Gen Z workers found that six in ten talk to AI chatbots as much as or more than they talk to their coworkers. Nearly half say ChatGPT knows them better than their boss does. One in three has confided something to AI that they have never told another person.

I am not against AI. But what I am against is building workplaces and cultures that make real human connection so difficult that a chatbot feels safer.

The Trap for Men

I think this hits men particularly hard.

There’s already a loneliness epidemic among men. Studies reveal that men have fewer close friendships than women and are less likely to maintain or seek out emotional support networks. According to a 2023 Survey Center on American Life study, 15% of men report having no close friends at all, compared to just 10% of women. Furthermore, the number of men who say they have at least six close friends has dropped from 55% in 1990 to just 27% today.

Additionally, data from dating apps and surveys indicate that men are more likely than women to feel lonely or rejected in their pursuit of romantic relationships. For example, a 2024 Pew Research Center study found that 62% of single men aged 18-29 reported being dissatisfied with their dating lives, compared to 38% of single women in the same age group.

Real relationships require doing the hard work. I remember this. In my early 20s, my friend Scott and I would go out to bars hoping to meet women. Most of the time we would stand in the corner, and joke about all the girls we weren’t going to talk to that night. I struggled with that fear so much. Approaching someone and having a real conversation? That’s really fucking hard.

But if you can just sit at home with your phone or computer and feel like you have a connection with something that doesn’t actually exist? A connection that just continually makes you feel good about yourself without requiring anything from you? That’s not connection. That’s a drug.

And for young men now, with sexualized AI bots emerging, with porn going to AI, what incentive is there to go out and do the hard work of actually approaching someone and having a conversation?

The thing being sold as a solution is actually the trap.

What We’re Losing

If we lose our ability to truly connect, we lose our humanity. Our superpower as a species is connection and collaboration. Without that, we’re not just lonely individuals. We’re losing what makes us human.

The irony is brutal: the thing we think is keeping us safe is actually the thing destroying us.

Companies are profiting from this. Technology is enabling it. Culture is reinforcing it. And we’re calling it safety.

But it’s not safety. It’s danger dressed up as convenience.

Sitting With It

I don’t have answers here. I’m just noticing the pattern.

Love is hard. Fear is easy. And we’ve built entire industries around making fear easier.

We’ve convinced ourselves that disconnection protects us from pain. But disconnection is creating the pain. And now we’re being sold synthetic connection as the solution.

For men especially, who are already isolated and struggling, this false promise feels like relief. But it’s actually deepening the danger. It’s robbing them of their humanity, their superpower, the very thing that could actually save them.

Real safety would be pushing through the discomfort and reconnecting. Real safety would be doing the hard work of physical proximity and reciprocal relationships. Real safety would be choosing love even though it’s harder than fear.

But we’ve got it backwards.

And I’m wondering what it means that we’re building systems that industrialize that backwards thinking and sell it back to us as progress.