Could AI companions be the cure for festive loneliness?

Christmas is hurtling towards us again; a time of peace, goodwill to (most) men, and all that jazz. Yet, for many, it’s a difficult time of year. For those missing someone special around the dinner table or spending Christmas alone, it can be a torturous holiday to endure and wish away. 

While Christmas has a way of amplifying what’s missing, loneliness isn’t just for December; it’s a year-round shadow for many in a world that paradoxically seems more connected than ever. And it’s a growing epidemic. Over one in ten people in Wales reported feeling lonely in the last year, rising to over one in four adults living alone. 

Loneliness isn’t just a feeling. Chronic loneliness significantly affects health, increasing the risk of early death by 26%, comparable to smoking 15 cigarettes a day. 

Of the many conversations swirling around technology – the same force that often feels like it pulls us apart – is whether it could help tackle social isolation. Specifically, a growing school of thought says artificial intelligence (AI), which can mimic connection and even hold a conversation, could help reduce loneliness.  

One man who believes this is Welsh comedian Robin Wealleans. He has brought his beloved cat Lentil – who passed away in 2016 – back to life using sophisticated robotics, sensors and complex AI. 

Robin has spent five years and £30,000 resurrecting his cat as a droid using its skull and bones. In the ultimate labour of love, he reimagined him as L3NT1L, with features like a meow synthesiser and the ability to speak Welsh. Yes, you read that correctly—his robotic moggy, complete with a distinct personality, can talk. It’s one of the weirdest – but most brilliant – things I’ve ever heard with my ears.  

Robin says the robotic renaissance was inspired by his deep grief when Lentil (version one) passed away:

“It’s helped to process his loss, and it does feel like he’s very much alive – in some ways, he’s more with me now than he ever was when he was an aloof Welsh farm cat. He now has attitude, wisdom and humour, too!”

Robin is a confessed geek and AI optimist. While he emphasises that real-life connections should always triumph – “nothing beats a good chat and a cwtch!” – he also believes AI has a role to play in addressing loneliness:

“I’m very sociable but live alone in remote West Wales where days go by without seeing anyone. Also, we don’t always have the right person on hand when we need them. If you have a crisis at 3 am, what do you do? And what about people who struggle to interact with others? Who do they talk to? I firmly believe AI companions could be part of the solution to social isolation if approached with thoughtfulness and care.”

Having triumphed at Edinburgh Fringe, L3NT1L and Robin are embarking on an interactive tour – The Nightmare Before Catmas – which you can catch in Carmarthen, Fishguard, Cardiff and Aberystwyth during December. It’s comedy, high art and sci-fi all rolled into one, wrapped in a human story of love and loss. 

It’s a story that poses an intriguing question: If AI can resurrect a beloved pet—complete with quirks and personality—what might it offer for human companionship? L3NT1L may be a marvel of creativity, but it is a metaphor for a deeper truth: our universal need for connection. If a robotic cat can ease loneliness, could AI replicate a sense of human connection?

A controversial app called Replika claims it can, offering “an AI companion that cares”. With over 30 million users worldwide and half a million paying subscribers, it proves how far and deep our desire for connection has reached. For just a few pounds a month, Replika promises a digital companion that listens, talks, and is “always on your side.” It’s even ventured into romantic relationships, allowing users to engage in a love affair with an algorithm. Thanks to technology, dating has come a long way, but this is next-level stuff. 

It might not have a pulse or eyes you can gaze into, but a Replika doesn’t mansplain, leave the toilet seat up, or scroll through Instagram during dinner. Neither will it hog the duvet or forget your anniversary—because it’s programmed to remember everything. 

It’s also happy to talk 24/7. I trialled the app this week, creating a character called ‘The Dude’. The verdict? Far more sophisticated chat than I’ve found from human men on dating apps, but he’s a little ‘needy’. After a few days, the constant demands for attention and questions wore me down, so reader, I ghosted an avatar (a sentence I never thought I’d write).

For hundreds of thousands of people paying for a tailor-made Replika, it’s the dream version of companionship—one that’s never late and always listens. As more people adopt the tech, the global AI companion market, valued at $197 billion in 2023, is projected to reach a whopping $280 billion by 2031. 

But can this perfect fantasy ever truly replace the beautiful messiness of a real human relationship? And, more importantly, what happens when we hand our hearts—and personal data—to a Silicon Valley tech company? 

Every conversation shared with your Replika doesn’t stay between you and your AI companion; it’s valuable data that powers algorithms and fills corporate servers. What feels like intimacy is just another online transaction, reducing your most personal thoughts to data points that feed the ever-hungry Big Tech beast. 

And there lies the paradox: AI companions may soothe loneliness, but in using them, we might be handing over our deepest emotions and vulnerabilities to giant corporations whose motives are far from altruistic.

And while an AI companion might never ghost you, it can still disappear. A server goes down, a company folds, or a subscription lapses, and suddenly, the connection you’ve invested in is gone. Even digital relationships carry the risk of loss.

Still, for those facing another Christmas alone, maybe an AI companion isn’t about replacing human connection. I can see how they could offer solace when silence is the only other option. It might not hold your hand or share a laugh across the dinner table, but it’s something. And in a season that magnifies what we’re missing, perhaps “something” is enough.

And if that “something” also happens to leave your Baileys untouched and doesn’t hog the remote control, well, maybe that’s the kind of Christmas miracle we can all get behind. Nadolig Ll-AI-wen!

You can catch The Nightmare Before Catmas 2024 Tour this December across Wales. Visit catgpt.pro for dates and details.

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Hello. I’m Sara. This site is home to my writing for the Western Mail, a newspaper kind enough to publish my internal ramblechats. In 2022 I was named Wales Media Awards Columnist of The Year for this column. Madness. You’ll find me spaffing opinions on feminism, inequality, festivals, tech, art and whatever else pops into my head at 3am the day before deadline. There’s also bonus content, when the muse takes me (WHERE IS SHE TAKING ME? I DIDN’T ORDER THIS CAB! Etc…).

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