Recently, while hanging out at my friends’ houses, I’ve gotten to listen in as their teens talked about everything from the best new music (who exactly is Yeat?), trending phrases (is 6-7 actually going anywhere?) and their behavioral habits.

Then I asked, for example, where they would go to search for a restaurant recommendation, homework help or advice. The answers to all of these were their friend Chat – as in ChatGPT or similar artificial intelligence chatbots.

Now I knew I was cooked (did I use that right?) years ago when I was still using Google for answers the teens had moved on to TikTok for, but I didn’t fully appreciate ― until these conversations ― just how all-consuming the use of Chat was in their everyday lives.

So I was also surprised to find out they are overwhelmingly using Chat as not just a friend, but a mental health provider.

As a clinical psychologist, this hits me especially hard. I’ve worked for years to translate information from my studies and the field of psychology to young people in entertaining and easy to understand ways. I have developed programs that help clinicians to work with families and young people to talk through life’s biggest stressors. But at the end of the day, they’d rather go to a bot that doesn’t really know them as a person, just as a data point.

My friend’s children showed me exactly how quickly this generation, very quick to get, well, anything, wanted relief for symptoms of depression and anxiety. They would tell Chat they weren’t feeling well and want to know what could be done about it ― all before breakfast. They said that they didn’t want to schedule an appointment for later or couldn’t hold their distress for a longer period; they wanted to use something that gave them some support in a literal blink of an eye.

As a millennial, I grew up in the “Microwave Generation,” a group of kids known for their desire for instant gratification and having their needs met instantly. What, then, do we need to do to prepare for a generation that not only gets it instantly, but doesn’t even have to move off the couch to do so? Their expectation that results would be easy to attain and accurate and personalized runs afoul of our current mental health model.

There have been several hit pieces on (and defaced NYC billboards for) the “Friend” device. An orb that goes around the user’s neck, Friend can give unfettered, curated advice throughout the day, accompanying the user through life’s mundane or noteworthy experiences. Many of us have scoffed at it ― myself included ― but now that I hear what the young people are saying about wanting support after a decade of declining mental health, is it so far-fetched to imagine that they just want to be quickly heard, seen and validated?

Tech companies have spent considerable time and resources to figure out what keeps young people hooked. But young people’s mental health is at stake ― they already see themselves less positively, feel more isolated and have learning gaps relative to generations preceding them. Interactive AI ― with its capacity to be responsive to youth ― may seem like a clear solution.

Except early research hints at what the headlines already show: Great opportunity for “connection” may also come with great danger through compliance. Young people are also less likely to discuss the advice from Chat with loved ones, leading to potentially deadly consequences, such as in cases where teen suicides have been linked to AI chatbots.

The author speaking at a New York City Council convening for youth mental health, discussing technology and service provision.The author speaking at a New York City Council convening for youth mental health, discussing technology and service provision.

Photo Courtesy Of Dr. Riana Elyse Anderson

These consequences, to say nothing of the known and racial biases of chatbots for Black youth, can lead to greater disparities in mental health outcomes. If Black youth are exposed to high incidents of daily online racism and are engaging in higher rates of suicidal thoughts and behaviors relative to their peers and other times in history, the guidance from internet-culled resources may be dire for that population.

So as adults, we need to think about ways we can support the young people in our lives.

Since Chat, Chatty or any other nickname for the chatbot, is here to stay, how can we learn from what our youth are searching for and be a part of that solution ― together? How can we ensure our phones are down long enough for us to actually hear what they are saying? How can we support them knowing that life is in fact filled with ups and downs, not just the most clean or perfect versions of output or editing that we present to the world?

By modeling behaviors that we want to see in them, we can show that it is natural to not know, to ask others, to wrestle with frustration. Show them how you may decide between two choices, or, better yet, use technology to work out a problem together. Use video chat to call someone to talk through a challenging situation so they can hear what conversation skills look, sound and feel like.

Finally, ask them directly about chats with, well, Chat, using questions that open up conversation and invite inquiry and analysis instead of yes or no questions that may close off further discussion.

My hope is that I can intentionally strengthen my relationship with mentees and niblings this year. I might start by asking some simple questions to kick off our discussion: What are the latest songs I should listen to (and will I understand them)? Where did you get those jeans (the back of my storage)? And, most relevant to our conversation here, what are you asking Chat about today?

This latter question may just be the thing that helps one child know they have a friend that is real, all ears and willing to provide steady feedback to life’s tough stuff.

Dr. Riana Elyse Anderson is a licensed clinical and community psychologist, associate professor at Columbia University’s School of Social Work, and affiliate with Harvard’s Hutchins Center for African & African American Research and FXB Center for Health and Human Rights. She is a Public Voices Fellow of The OpEd Project in Partnership with National Black Child Development Institute.

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