What a nice gargoyle...

You had a primary school teacher who, to encourage you and your classmates, told you that anything you had done was wonderful, and congratulated you for working so hard. You and your classmates scribbled and doodled, and he applauded and displayed them.

But you grew up and no one applauded you anymore, on the contrary: there came a time when the previously revered scribbles and doodles were considered forgettable scribbles. There was no one left to ask you what you felt like doing and what you wanted.

That's why, now, you like AI so much. It's very kind, perhaps the kindest being you encounter every day. It's kinder than the taxi driver, than the bartender, and certainly than your loved ones. It agrees with you on everything, which, in your day-to-day life, no one does. Above all, it considers anything you say very, very important, just like back then. If you ask it what plants grow best for climbing a fence, the first thing it will do is tell you that you've had a great idea and that climbing a fence is a "very beautiful and ecological" resource. It will then ask you if you want to see photos and will – kindly – ask for details about this fence to be able to help you.

This artificial kindness, this servitude and flattery, these applauses are the basis of AI's success. What AI says is gospel, because it says it with a tone that is hard to find in real life. Try asking those around you what plants climb well on a fence. They won't pay you any mind, they'll answer perfunctorily, shrug their shoulders, show you indifference and gruffness. AI is the maid you don't have, it's the link that makes you feel like you are someone, like when you were the center of the world as a child.