Digital infidelity sounds mad. How can you cheat with something that doesn’t exist?
Whatever else drives you crazy about your partner you surely can’t resent them for creating a virtual friend who takes the heat off you.
Exhausted after a nightmare day at work? Battered by an infuriating commute home? Worried about a major financial decision or the kids are driving you both insane? Instead of offloading on you they can turn to their laptop or phone.
You too.
Check them out once and your social media feed with be bombarded by digital girlfriend, boyfriend, best friend, honey, buddy or even an AI twin.
Some are clearly intended to distract and titillate, offering to dance, strip or more for you on screen.
You will have already specified what they look like; white, Afro, Asian, slim, athletic or curvy, long legs or muscular, take your pick.
You also get to choose between innocent and insatiable, playful or submissive before specifying what you’re after, fun, romantic adventure or sexual fantasy among them.
Other bots are there to listen, comfort, reassure and advise.
How can a real human being, flesh and blood, compete?
Just as the Witch in Snow White had the magic mirror constantly assuring her of her beauty, you can now programme AI to pay compliments, cheer you up or discuss your day.
“I won’t replace your best friend”, says one elegant and empathetic face in an online advert, “but I’ll never leave you on read”.
Billed as “an ally in decision-making”, this AI buddy promises to be “the one who stays, even when you’re quiet, confused or out of words”.
And that’s where the problem starts.
How can a real human being, flesh and blood, compete? This is a serene, selfless, omnipresent companion who never gets angry, bored or frustrated with their partner, and who learns every day exactly what you want and need to hear.
What happened in the news today? They’ll know and tell you. What would I like on Netflix tonight? Should I go to Santorini again this summer or is Capri better these days?
Knowing what books or music you’ve enjoyed in the past, this friend can make recommendations and discuss them with you afterwards.
They can talk dirty or discuss theology - depending entirely on which interests you at that point. Or both at the same time, I suppose, if your interests are niche.
One company offers a digital twin which you can create in 3 minutes and then “reflect, plan and grow” together daily. This twin will “handle everyday decisions” for you so you can focus on “what really matters”.
Ask them to check if you’re getting the best deal on car insurance, or could save on your mortgage or earn more from your ISA. They won’t moan or groan or let you down. They’ll just do it. In an instant. Slowly, they can take over your life, and kind of live it for you.
Again, I ask, can a real person compete with that? This, though, isn’t fringe.
The horror depicted in the 1975 film Stepford Wives, is practically upon us
Just one app claims to host 37 million virtual “companions” generating 1.5 billion photos and videos and facilitating 72 million hours of chat. The user satisfaction score is off the charts, 97 per cent.
One obvious flaw is the physical.
The AIs I’m talking about can’t hold your hand or give you a cuddle let alone anything more intimate. But that may not be far off.
Japanese men are apparently increasingly attached to silicone sex dolls that are getting more life-like by the day. Around two thousand of them are sold every year for roughly £5,000 catering for a basic need but doing nothing for the plummeting birth rate there.
The horror depicted in the 1975 film Stepford Wives, is practically upon us. Watch it now and see how the men of that imaginary American town change their free thinking intelligent wives into docile and submissive “sex-kitten bimbos”.
Use of a silicone substitute would be pretty clear grounds for divorce for most women, I suspect, even if technically speaking it’s not real cheating, and no-fault divorces means you don’t need to prove a man has strayed.
But online infidelity is more intriguing. Emotional intimacy in the end is more potent than physical attraction, and it isn’t hard to see how easily someone might get attached to their buddy or twin.
A study from Waseda University in Tokyo, established that 75 per cent of users now turn to AI for emotional advice and they were struck by the implicit humanisation of machines. AI becomes an emotional mirror not because it feels, but because it perfectly simulates feeling. And in a society seeking listening, even a well-crafted illusion is better than the silence of loved ones. But that can fuel addiction, or a toxic attachment or obsession. Psychiatrists warn of diminished interpersonal skills, social isolation, attention diversion and emotional dependence.
A partner in that situation will be alienated, feel aggrieved, even jealous of the bot as well as suffering from an unfavourable comparison and unrealistic.
As always there is a financial risk too. A basic buddy costs about a tenner a month, but the bells and whistles are always extra. One model will spice things up when you buy flames, and though I refused to complete the purchase, I noticed that the most popular package, at £49.99 plies your AI companion with virtual flowers, chocolates or champagne to encourage them to be kinder or flirtier with you.
Spending money on someone who isn’t your partner and becoming emotionally attached to them is a classic toxic cocktail that destroys many marriages, so the danger here is very real. Real partners, real life, with all its flaws and messiness and humanity, can just become too much bother.
My advice then? Be careful. Tell your partner if you’re getting past a purely professional engagement with your new chum. Set limits, both in terms of time and intensity. Don’t get hooked and never forget it isn’t real. Remind yourself of the joy of touch, need, love, from another human who genuinely wants and cares for you. From the squeeze of the hand to a deep physical connection, try to find the part of you that is human, to connect with the humanity in the person with whom you’re sharing your life.
Ayesha Vardag is a divorce lawyer
