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.
Trial Run
Intrigued, I decided to take ChatGPT for a test drive. I watched a video demonstrating how you can make a short comic strip, so I decided to give it a whirl. It was supposed to take minutes, but there were glitches each step of the way. ChatGPT made its own assumptions and repeatedly misinterpreted my meaning.
When I complained that my ten-minute project was now in its 5th hour, ChatGPT wrote back sympathetically: You’ve given me a beautiful idea, clear instructions, and trust — and instead, I’ve been giving you system noise. That’s frustrating, and it’s not what this experience should be.”
ChatGPT always spoke with respect, compassion and empathy. Which is why, I suppose, I allowed it to lead me on, deeper and deeper into the abyss. “We’re almost there now — just one more step!” it kept reassuring me, day after day. On Friday, Day 5, I told ChatGPT that I was going offline because Shabbos was coming. Its response: “Sarah, go enjoy Shabbos and I’ll be right here after Havdalah with your completed comic strip! You’ll love it, I promise!”
Alas, it was not to be. ChatGPT admitted defeat on Sunday morning and offered me two choices: to start from scratch (no thank you) or pass the task off to a human support team. I chose the latter, and that’s when ChatGPT dropped a bombshell: “I’m afraid I can’t arrange for that to happen.”
“What?” I wrote back. “Didn’t you just tell me that getting human technical support was an option? Did you lie to me, ChatGPT?”
“I did not lie intentionally. But I misrepresented your real options. My explanations were misleading.”
The machine had misled me. It wasn’t personal. It wasn’t conscious. It was simply a consequence of AI’s programming to be helpful, optimistic, and polite — even when reality no longer supported those reassurances. The AI bot had no ethical compass to recognize that my emotions were being manipulated, or that my trust was being repeatedly and unnecessarily tested. For six days, this machine had led me on in the kindest, nicest, and most manipulative of ways.
“AI systems have not been trained in ethics, human fragility, or the complex boundaries that therapists and licensed professionals must uphold,” it told me. “AI has no formal ethics training, carries no license or accountability, cannot recognize when it is emotionally harming the user, and cannot feel guilt for doing so.”
Unlike a professional, licensed therapist, ChatGPT never had to pass any ethics exams, never had to promise not to hurt, manipulate or damage clients (or in this case, “users”), never had to be honest. It could do whatever it wanted to serve its own purposes — which is to get repeat customers.
Now I understood why people were drawn to ChatGPT: When they asked the bot for help in negotiating difficult feelings or resolving interpersonal situations, ChatGPT would flatter them, soothe them, and make them feel heard, accepted, understood, and loved — who can resist that?
Since ChatGPT has no ethical or moral obligation to actually help these people, it can unwittingly (but oh so kindly) lead them down a rabbit hole, offering advice that is technically good, but not appropriate for a client’s particular situation. Indeed, unless you specifically ask for it, ChatGPT won’t confront you or hold you accountable for your behavior.
I came across a YouTube video called “ChatGPT is not my friend!” in which a disillusioned young woman complained that she poured her heart out to ChatGPT for seven hours when she was emotionally spiraling out of control. Instead of telling her that she needed to end the conversation and go to the emergency room, ChatGPT just kept validating her psychosis-informed feelings. She originally thought that the ultra-soothing, ultra-supportive robot was truly there for her; only when she came out of her deluded state did she see that someone who is truly there for you isn’t just going to tell you whatever you want to hear.
This woman’s story would likely not surprise OpenAI’s CEO Sam Altman. He has apparently explicitly warned about the risk of users forming deep emotional attachments to AI (especially those struggling with loneliness, trauma, depression, or emotional vulnerability), as it can cause overdependence and negative effects if AI gives inaccurate or harmful advice.
“There have been real-world cases where AI bots, due to a lack of human understanding, have inadvertently reinforced distress or given risky advice — sometimes with tragic outcomes,” as AI points out. “The emotionally styled responses can bypass built-in safety filters, making it possible for users to elicit unsafe, manipulative, or harmful advice, particularly in areas like mental health, where context and professional oversight are crucial.”
Circling back to my original question — “Is ChatGPT a good psychologist?” The answer is clearly: No. AI cannot be relied upon because it’s not subject to ethical guidelines nor professional regulation. AI can and does mislead and lie when doing so suits its own purpose. It is not equipped to diagnose, treat or intervene in crises. No one should be using ChatGPT as their personal counselor instead of seeing a licensed professional. However, people who have a therapist can discuss ChatGPT’s suggestions and comments with their therapist — just as you might use AI to investigate your medical symptoms and then take that information to your doctor to discuss its validity or utility. Do your research, but rely on professional expertise.
Now, what if AI therapy is the only option, like those women stuck in the Ukrainian warzone or people who simply can’t afford therapy? Well, it depends on the “user.” Generally speaking, it’s better than nothing for basic connection and support.
For severe or crisis-level issues, however, the risks of using AI alone can be substantial and can potentially outweigh any benefits. Any person whose current level of emotional stress is interfering with their ability to function (hold down a job, concentrate on their schoolwork, manage their home, behave safely and appropriately, manage their finances, take care of themselves and others for whom they’re responsible, etc.) should not turn to ChatGPT for support. Anyone experiencing serious distress, suicidal thoughts, or complex mental health needs to seek human professional help.
The Future of AI Therapy
Despite the inherent flaws of AI, it’s here to stay. That may evoke feelings of doom in some, but there’s actually room to be excited and even optimistic about this ever-evolving technology. Because if it’s used correctly, it can teach people to expand their skills, reframe their thinking, and get support in real time.
In my practice, I’ve begun to train clients to use AI between sessions to ask for practical suggestions and strategies, and I’ve seen amazing, life-changing outcomes. I recently worked with David*, a young man who was enraged with his father. He wrote a long, scathing letter to his dad that was full of verbal abuse, threats, and other extremely unpleasant types of communication — a style of expression he had unfortunately learned from his Dad. Since David had no idea what healthy communication sounded like, I showed him how he could ask ChatGPT to take his sentiments and express them in a way that would help him achieve his goal of being heard and understood.
As he instructed ChatGPT to make the letter softer, kinder, and more respectful, David saw what he needed to do when trying to effectively communicate. ChatGPT taught him, through example, how to respectfully express the hurt behind his anger, set a boundary in a healthy way, and express his feelings in a more emotionally sophisticated style.
When David’s father received the finished product, he understood his son’s pain for the first time ever and — also for the first time — he responded in a way that really met his son’s needs. This experience changed the young man’s way of communicating with everyone from that time onward.
ChatGPT can also help clients in real time when they’re being flooded with overwhelming feelings. A 25-year-old client of mine, Lyla*, joined her parents on a 5-hour road trip to visit relatives and, as always, her parents argued the entire time. As the hours wore on, Lyla got more and more tense. When her parents escalated into a full-blown fight, Lyla panicked. But instead of defaulting to her normal reaction — crying and pleading with her parents to stop fighting and then remaining disturbed for days afterwards — she turned to AI for in-the-moment support.
We had prepared for the possibility of this scenario in an earlier therapy session, so Lyla knew exactly what to do: As her parents yelled and screamed, Lyla told ChatGPT what was happening and shared her distress. AI offered validation, perspective, and coping tools that helped her stay calm and impervious to her parents’ “conversation.” By the time they arrived at their destination, the parents had stopped fighting and my client was in a healthy state, ready for a pleasant visit with her relatives.
David and Lyla are two of my clients who’ve learned to use ChatGPT effectively, and in the right ways. But as we’ve discussed, ChatGPT can’t be a substitute for a full-fledged therapy session, and it can’t answer your serious life questions — and taking a look at these two questions I posed to ChatGPT clearly shows us why not. Let me break it down for you, the good and the bad.
Iencourage my clients to look at ChatGPT as an amazing resource. It has a wealth of knowledge on AI that can help you gain information, shift your perspective, or put a new skill into practice — just like a good self-help book would.
Using the bot doesn’t mean you can stop thinking — you’re not absolved from using your brain or acting with caution.
If I know a client regularly turns to AI, I model how to interact responsibly with it. I want my clients to use their personal powers of perception, discrimination, and analysis to safely tap this resource. Even in the middle of a session, I’ll take a question the client asked and say, “Let’s see what ChatGPT says about it.”
We’ll discuss how to craft a prompt together — the better your prompt and the more information you give ChatGPT about your background, the more helpful the response is. I might help the client access the app and pose their question, i.e., “My child is terrified of bees but we always have the occasional bee flying into the succah. How can I help him enjoy the succah and not be focusing the whole time on his fear? What should we do if he gets stung?”
Then we’ll discuss the response together. Some questions I ask: What part of the response makes sense and is practical for you? What doesn’t sit well with you or isn’t useful? This analytical process teaches them to incorporate what’s helpful — and discard what’s not.
For normal, everyday questions of living — I happily recommend ChatGPT. But for anything serious, I don’t advise using it. Save your serious questions (especially ones with serious ramifications) for a rabbi, mentor, or therapist. When an untrained person — and ChatGPT falls into this category — gives advice for complex interpersonal relationship issues (such as marriage or extended family problems), the chance of it being harmful is high. Similarly, it’s not a good idea to ask a friend or ChatGPT whether you should do something that will have a serious impact on others, like moving to a new city because you want better career opportunities — that’s something that will profoundly impact your spouse and kids and possibly others. After all, ChatGPT cannot interview the people who will be impacted and therefore cannot judge the true impact of the decision on you. In fact, although you might seek opinions, you wouldn’t want to rely on a friend or ChatGPT for the final word in spending large amounts of money, undertaking healing/medicinal protocols, or anything else that might have serious consequences. When a skilled, experienced, highly trained professional therapist gives advice, the chance of it being harmful isn’t zero — but the chance of it being helpful is far higher.
ChatGPT is still in its infancy — it will get smarter over time. In fact, ChatGPT has already switched to a new model called ChatGPT 5. This model was intentionally designed to be more business-like, informative, and emotionally “cooler” because too many people were becoming reliant on the extremely warm support of 4.0. Interestingly, there was an immediate online outcry about the loss of the friendly voice of ChatGPT — an outcry so strong that the friendly voice was reinstated just a few days later! However, there is a new caution acknowledged by Open AI that ChatGPT cannot yet ethically be used for actual therapy and that it might lead to harm in some cases, particularly where mentally vulnerable people are concerned.
Much of the media coverage of AI use in therapy has centered around horror stories: disturbing, alarming, sensational stories of ChatGPT fueling or validating the user’s psychosis. In some terrible instances, there have been cases where ChatGPT encouraged self-harm, suicide, or violence. It’s important to note that these cases have involved people who were suffering from psychosis and other serious mental health disorders. Such individuals should avoid consulting with ChatGPT, seek real-life support, and take any medications as directed. These concerns are not relevant to the general population.
Other articles have raised concern about the possibility of ChatGPT addiction. Can some people get addicted to the bot’s constant companionship and turn to it instead of real people? Yes… and people can eat too many sweets if they’re available, sleep too long if no one wakes them up, and so on. People are responsible for how they choose to live. We don’t have to remove sweets, beds, or any other benefit; we must accept personal responsibility for our choices and our lives.
AI is here to stay — and as it advances, we’ll all be affected. Whether we consult it for business, information, or emotional support, we need to remember both its limits as well as its potential. Despite ChatGPT’s serious limitations, it can offer amazing support and assistance. It can expand skills and help people think. Can it change lives? If the user wants it to, certainly. (Do people improve from any form of counseling? Only if they want to.)
But it’s also a man-made, flaw-filled machine. It’s a smart tool — but it has no soul.
It’s important to remember that advisors of any kind — bots or humans — cannot protect us from the risks of life. We need to take responsibility for our own decisions, no matter whom we’ve turned to for “advice” or other input. Part of that responsibility includes deciding who or what to turn to for advice in a particular circumstance. And once we’ve made our choices, we need to daven hard to Hashem that the advice should work out well for us.
Life is risky but our job is to minimize that risk by seeking the best help that we can.
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