Built an empathy chatbot in 2018, shut it down recently. Reading old chats changed my mind: AI doesn’t replace therapists, it helps people rehearse being human.
The story
Patterns: tidy Before/After product-demo shape; repeated user-story loops, problem to tidy win; safe phrases like “feels heard”; abstract closer, “gatekeeping access”; humor fades after Classic ASP.
Rewrite:
Before: user in a parked car after a long commute; sore, ears ringing, checked out, bills waiting, and feeling sure nobody wants round 900 of it. Spouse tired. Friends busy. Therapist in three weeks.
After: same user types into a chatbot at midnight. It reflects exhaustion, money pressure, and wanting stability without trading away mental and physical health. Nothing is solved. The user feels heard enough to sleep.
I built EmpathyBot in 2018 on Classic ASP because I make choices, apparently. It ran on pattern recognition, with a language model bolted on later as an editor. I shut it down recently: hosting got expensive, and the code was older than some users. Rude.
Reading the stored conversations changed my thinking. One user, anxious about a friend who borrowed money and ghosted repayment, left with an “I” statement message; the friendship stayed intact. Another, scared about leaving their mother’s house, planned a calm talk instead of a move. One user had the flu, slept away from their spouse, got the idea to call their son, and reported back: it worked.
That’s the part stuck in my teeth. AI support doesn’t replace clinicians; please don’t swap your therapist for a feelings toaster. It gives people a place to slow down, name what’s happening, and rehearse words for a real human.
What if our role isn’t guarding the “feeling heard” gate like tiny clipboard goblins? What if we point people toward whatever helps them reconnect with partners, family, coworkers, friends, or themselves? Relationships are the medicine. Tools helping people show up for them deserve another look.
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