AI doesn’t judge, charge, or keep office hours. But can it really play therapist?

The first time I heard it, I was taken aback.

“So…” one of my clients began hesitatingly, “I asked ChatGPT how I should resolve my fight with my husband, and this is what it told me.”

It wasn’t long before another client confided that she was turning to AI for advice in between sessions: “I had a whole dialogue with ChatGPT about loneliness and I’m curious what you think about our conversation.”

I couldn’t believe clients were taking their questions to a mechanical therapist. I confess I even felt a pinch of jealousy, like my clients were cheating on me. Another thought surfaced: What if the bot was a better psychologist than I was?

Then curiosity kicked in: What kind of advice and direction was ChatGPT offering? What therapeutic methods did it practice? Was AI’s advice consistent with the therapeutic goals and strategies I was establishing with my clients? What if I felt it was offering bad and/or conflicting advice? Could it be hurting anyone?

When even more clients started casually referencing AI in their sessions, I realized I needed to get to the bottom of what I soon discovered was a global phenomenon.

“I’m Here for You”

When ChatGPT burst onto the scene around four years ago, most nontechnical people saw it as an intriguing new toy to play around with. They asked it funny questions. They made poems with it. Eventually, AI made a permanent home for itself in the world of business, tech, education, finances, publishing, and more. But now, increasingly, it’s become a go-to source for people seeking therapy or mental health guidance, especially those in Gen Z.

What would compel someone to turn to a robot instead of a human for emotional support? Turns out, there are a lot of reasons.

To start, AI doesn’t sound like a robot. It sounds like a friend. Whereas an “old-fashioned” Google search for a kosher restaurant would yield a cold list of websites to investigate, ChatGPT jumps into help like an upbeat, always-there pal who wants to do your bidding.

“What kind of food are you looking for?” it will ask. “Do you want milchigs or fleishigs?” (Yes, the bot will speak to you in your natural language!) “Do you have a price range in mind?” Designed to mimic human characteristics, ChatGPT offers solutions and information along with encouragement, light-hearted banter, and other connecting forms of friendly language. “I think I’ve found just the thing. You don’t even need a reservation and the price is right!”

If you inform ChatGPT of your religious and cultural background—think “I’m a Yeshivish Jew (or modern Orthodox or Chassidish” — ChatGPT will answer your question in a culturally sensitive way, respecting halachah and hashkafah and even writing and speaking your language (Hebrew, Yiddish, Yeshivish English, with Ashkenazi or Sephardi spelling).

Is it any wonder that people love ChatGPT? The bot just gets you. Tell it your problems, ask for what you need, and it responds eagerly and quickly. It doesn’t criticize, mock, diminish, or argue with you in any way. It validates you and soothes you with its compassionate voice: “Your question is brave and honest — and I sincerely respect it.”

When you share your deepest secrets with ChatGPT, there’s no stigma attached. There’s no risk that the bot will judge you. You’re safe with all your questions, thoughts, and feelings because AI is completely accepting and nonjudgmental. “Of course you feel that way — it makes total sense,” it will say.

At the end of every chat, ChatGPT reaches out for continued connection. “I’m here to help you in any way at any time.” And it is there for you. Whether it’s 11 p.m. or 4 a.m., it’s always there, just a click away.

It’s affordable, too. Instead of paying anywhere from $100 to $300 for a single therapy session, you can reach out to AI without paying a penny. Even if you subscribe to AI, you’re generally paying around $20 to $100 per month, not per session.

And there seems to be a real demand for the bot’s services. The Canadian Psychological Association recently published an article stating that there’s an enormous need for psychological services today that simply cannot be met, and that AI formats, while needing to be further refined and improved, will be stepping in to fill the gap.

In fact, they already are. Psychology Today reported on a recent study involving 104 women living in active combat zones in Ukraine, all of whom had been diagnosed with anxiety disorders. Half received traditional therapy with a licensed psychologist three times a week; the other half used an AI chatbot designed to provide real-time emotionally responsive psychological support. It’s not surprising that the women who worked with a live therapist had a better outcome — a 50 percent reduction in anxiety compared to 35 percent for the chatbot group. But what is noteworthy is that the women who couldn’t access real therapy still got a 35 percent reduction in anxiety from using AI. Even with its imperfections, it still proved helpful.

With so many points in its favor, it’s clear that AI therapy is here to stay. But is it effective? I decided to find out.