Human versus AI counsellor

A survey released this month found that almost half of young adults now turn to AI instead of a real person when they're struggling. I read that statistic twice. Not because it shocked me — it doesn't, really — but because it says something about how hard it's become to reach out to another human being.

I understand the appeal. An AI chatbot is available at 2am. It doesn't get tired, doesn't judge, doesn't need you to explain yourself twice. For a quick moment of reassurance, or to organise your thoughts before a difficult conversation, that has real value. I'm not here to tell you AI is worthless. It isn't. It is how ever at this moment just a large language model.

What actually changes things for people, session after session, is being genuinely met by another person, another human — someone who notices the pause before you answer along with your body language, who remembers what you said three weeks ago without being reminded, who can sit with you in something difficult without rushing to fix it or reframe it into something more comfortable.

That's the foundation of person-centred counselling, which is what I practise. It isn't a technique you apply to a person. It's a relationship you build with one. An AI can reflect your words back to you in a well-structured sentence. It cannot be moved by what you tell it. It cannot bring its own humanity into the room, because it doesn't have any. And for a lot of the work I do — particularly around trauma, and particularly with LGBTQIA+ clients who have often spent years feeling unseen or explaining themselves to people who didn't understand — being properly met by another person isn't a nice extra. It's the whole point.

There's also something an AI can't offer that matters more than it sounds: accountability within a real relationship. A therapist you see week after week has a stake in your progress. They'll challenge you gently when something doesn't add up. They'll hold what you've told them with care, not because a system prompt instructed them to, but because that's what it means to actually care about another person's wellbeing.

None of this means turning your back on AI as a tool. If it helps you organise your thoughts before a session, or gives you language for something you're struggling to articulate at 3am, use it. But it's worth being honest with yourself about the difference between being soothed and being supported. One is temporary relief. The other is change that holds.

If you've been putting off reaching out to an actual person because it feels like a bigger step than typing into an app, that hesitation is worth paying attention to — not because AI is dangerous, but because you deserve more than a well-phrased response. You deserve to be known.