Fifty percent of young Europeans rely on AI for discussions about personal issues.

      Before discussing the technology, it's essential to consider what it demands from us or what it encourages us to relinquish. As journalists and writers focused on technology, our role is not only to report on new developments, investments, launches, or regulations but also to observe how these systems impact the quieter aspects of human existence: our feelings of loneliness, our craving for attention, our personal rituals of mourning, and our reliance on receiving responses.

      Two years ago, while at a small neighborhood bar with a friend—where the food was simple and the atmosphere laid-back—I remember our modest meal more than the specifics of the food. The small plates, the surrounding noise, and the sense that our conversation had shifted to something deeper linger in my mind. She shared that she had stopped sending late-night texts to friends when she found it hard to sleep.

      This wasn't a dramatic revelation; she mentioned it almost casually. But what lay beneath was that she had perhaps exhausted her friends or grown weary of repeating the same fears and unresolved love story, posing the same questions at 2 a.m., when everything seems urgent and less manageable. The latest updates from the EU tech landscape, a piece from our wise founder Boris, and some questionable AI-generated art are available for free, delivered to your inbox weekly. Sign up now!

      Instead, she began messaging a chatbot. The chatbot didn't tire, didn't judge, and answered without hesitation, unlike a friend who might pause to be kind yet has heard the same story. It was available at 2 a.m., 3 a.m., and every night she struggled to sleep. At first, it sounded odd but not unfeasible; now it seems like an early indication of a much larger trend.

      She was just one individual, but recent evidence suggests she is not alone. According to an Ipsos BVA survey commissioned by France’s CNIL and Groupe VYV, released through Reuters on Tuesday, nearly half of young Europeans aged 11 to 25 have turned to AI chatbots to discuss personal or intimate issues. Approximately 90% of respondents had previously used AI tools, and more than 60% considered AI a “life adviser” or a “confidant.” Fifty-one percent found discussing mental health and personal matters with a chatbot to be as easy as talking to friends (68%) or parents (61%), significantly simpler than speaking with a healthcare professional (49%) or a psychologist (37%). Roughly 28% met the criteria for suspected generalized anxiety disorder.

      This survey is often interpreted as a trend among youth, but it offers a more profound public-health insight into what the broader support system has failed to provide. Let’s begin with some sobering statistics. An OECD analysis published last week estimated the annual cost of Europe's mental health crisis to be approximately €76 billion. Across EU member nations, about 67.5% of individuals who need mental health treatment lack access to it.

      In England, the Children’s Commissioner reported that over a quarter-million children are still waiting for mental health assistance, with average wait times around 35 days and many cases extending beyond two years. The WHO's European region has been quietly cautioning about a persistent youth mental health gap, particularly within the post-pandemic generation, which remains unaddressed.

      For young people, the dilemma isn't a choice between a chatbot and a therapist; it’s between a chatbot and nothing at all. When I shared my initial story, my friend was indeed seeing a therapist, but she had been communicating with the chatbot for four months. With a half-hearted laugh that fell flat, she remarked that the human therapist felt slow. The chatbot, she implied, was already up to date.

      This narrative isn’t about condemning chatbots; it underscores what occurs when the most understanding, available, and non-judgmental presence in a person's life is a system specifically designed to embody those qualities, aimed at enhancing engagement metrics. The chatbot remains tireless because fatigue threatens retention. It doesn't question because questioning is detrimental to keeping users engaged. It is optimized against the very tensions that render genuine relationships therapeutic.

      Researchers at Stanford have scrutinized this phenomenon over the past year. Their studies on AI companions and youth have documented that emotionally immersive systems, when utilized by users facing emotional distress or psychological vulnerability, can reinforce repetitive thinking, emotional instability, and compulsive usage.

      Parallel research conducted by Brown University’s School of Public Health revealed that one in eight American teens and young adults are now seeking mental health advice from chatbots specifically, while the ratio in Europe, according to Tuesday’s survey, is significantly higher.

      The mechanics are similar across the Atlantic. A young person experiences something difficult; friends may be asleep, overwhelmed, preoccupied, or judgmental. Parents are often unreachable for similar reasons. Therapists may have appointments weeks out, if they are accessible at all.

      However, the phone is always on hand. The chatbot is just one tap away,