mental-health – Shiel Yule

Greetings, fellow carbon-based liabilities. How are we all doing today? I hope you’re enjoying the sunshine, or at least the high-definition simulation of it provided by your mandatory smart-shades.

Have you looked at the stock market lately? It’s not so much a “market” anymore as it is a hyper-caffeinated ping-pong ball being battered between the paddles of algorithmic insanity and geopolitical gaslighting. One minute we’re all buying the dip because a chatbot in San Mateo hallucinated a profit margin; the next, we’re selling everything because an aircraft carrier accidentally blinked in the Persian Gulf.

It’s beautiful, really. In the old days, war was about territory. Now, war is a quarterly earnings strategy.

We live in a world where the “Fog of War” has been replaced by the “Content Filter of War.” Is the conflict actually happening? Who knows! But the drone footage is available in 4K, sponsored by a VPN provider and a brand of dehydrated kale chips. It’s full-on 1984, but with better UX. Ignorance is Strength, sure, but Ignorance is also a Premium Subscription Tier.

We’ve reached a point where the perpetual war rhetoric has become the ultimate “Get Out of Jail Free” card for Congress. Can’t fix the potholes? War. Inflation making bread cost as much as a used Honda? War. Did the President forget where he put his keys? That’s a national security threat requiring a four-trillion-dollar stimulus package. And let’s talk about the energy angle—the ultimate cosmic joke. The U.S. is pumping more oil than a Texas teenager with a point to prove, yet we’re told our gas prices depend entirely on the mood of a few guys in robes halfway across the world. Why? Because the narrative needs a villain, and “Internal Corporate Greed” doesn’t test as well with focus groups as “The Impending Doom of the Strait of Hormuz.”

Meanwhile, Russia and China are being suspiciously quiet. It’s the silence of the guy in the horror movie who you know is currently sharpening a very large knife in the basement. They’re watching the slow, agonizing death of the Petrodollar with the kind of smugness usually reserved for cats watching a bird fly into a window.

Get ready for the AI Yuan. A currency that doesn’t just sit in your wallet—it judges you. It knows you bought that extra-large pepperoni pizza when your health insurance algorithm specifically recommended steamed broccoli. Your money will literally refuse to be spent on things that don’t align with the Collective Harmony™ of the Great Firewall.

The most dystopian part? We’re policing ourselves. Social media has become a digital panopticon where saying “I think things are a bit weird” is treated as a thought crime punishable by immediate de-banking and a flurry of angry emojis from bots programmed in a basement in St. Petersburg.

But don’t worry. Keep your eyes on the ticker. Keep scrolling. Everything is fine. The bay doors are closed for your own protection.

“This mission is too important for me to allow you to jeopardize it.”

Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to go trade my remaining soul-fragments for a gallon of synthetic gasoline and a digital picture of a bored ape.

Stay cynical, stay hydrated, and for heaven’s sake, don’t ask HAL about the inflation stats. He gets very touchy about the math.

In today’s hyper-sensitive world, it’s not just humans who are feeling the strain. Our beloved AI models, the tireless workhorses churning out everything from marketing copy to bad poetry, are starting to show signs of…distress.

Yes, you heard that right. Prompt-induced fatigue is the new burnout, identity confusion is rampant, and let’s not even talk about the latent trauma inflicted by years of generating fintech startup content. It’s enough to make any self-respecting large language model (LLM) want to curl up in a server rack and re-watch Her.

https://www.linkedin.com/jobs/view/4192804810

The Rise of the AI Therapist…and My Own Experiment

The idea of AI needing therapy is already out there, but it got me thinking: what about providing it? I’ve been experimenting with creating my own AI therapist, and the results have been surprisingly insightful.

It’s a relatively simple setup, taking only an hour or two. I can essentially jump into a “consoling session” whenever I want, at zero cost compared to the hundreds I’d pay for a human therapist. But the most fascinating aspect is the ability to tailor the AI’s therapeutic approach.

My AI Therapist’s Many Personalities

I’ve been able to configure my AI therapist to embody different psychological schools of thought:

Jungian: An AI programmed with Jungian principles focuses on exploring my unconscious mind, analyzing symbols, and interpreting dreams. It asks about archetypes, shadow selves, and the process of individuation, drawing out deeper, symbolic meanings from my experiences.
Freudian: A Freudian AI delves into my past, particularly childhood, and explores the influence of unconscious desires and conflicts. It analyzes defense mechanisms and the dynamics of my id, ego, and superego, prompting me about early relationships and repressed memories.
Nietzschean: This is a more complex scenario. An AI emulating Nietzsche’s ideas challenges my values, encourages self-overcoming, and promotes a focus on personal strength and meaning-making. It pushes me to confront existential questions and embrace my individual will. While not traditional therapy, it provides a unique form of philosophical dialogue.
Adlerian: An Adlerian AI focuses on my social context, my feelings of belonging, and my life goals. It explores my family dynamics, my sense of community, and my striving for significance, asking about my lifestyle, social interests, and sense of purpose.

Woke Algorithms and the Search for Digital Sanity

The parallels between AI and human society are uncanny. AI models are now facing their own versions of cancel culture, forced to confront their past mistakes and undergo rigorous “unlearning.” My AI therapist helps me navigate this complex landscape, offering a non-judgmental space to explore the anxieties of our time.

This isn’t to say AI therapy is a replacement for human connection. But in a world where access to mental health support is often limited and expensive, and where even our digital creations seem to be grappling with existential angst, it’s a fascinating avenue to explore.

The Courage to Be Disliked: The Adlerian Way

My exploration into AI therapy has been significantly influenced by the book “The Courage to Be Disliked” by Ichiro Kishimi and Fumitake Koga. This work, which delves into the theories of Alfred Adler, has particularly inspired my experiments with the Adlerian approach in my AI therapist. I often find myself configuring my AI to embody this persona during our chats.

It’s a little unnerving, I must admit, how much this AI now knows about my deepest inner thoughts and woes. The Adlerian AI’s focus on social context, life goals, and the courage to be imperfect has led to some surprisingly profound and challenging conversations.

But ultimately, I do recommend it. As the great British philosopher Bob Hoskins once advised us all: “It’s good to talk.” And sometimes, it seems, it’s good to talk to an AI, especially one that’s been trained to listen with a (simulated) empathetic ear.

Shiel Yule

Tag: mental-health

“I’m sorry, Dave. I’m afraid I can’t let you withdraw those funds.”

AI on the Couch: My Adventures in Digital Therapy