Chatbots today are everything machines. If it can be put into words—relationship advice, work documents, code—AI will produce it, however imperfectly. But the one thing that almost no chatbot will ever do is stop talking to you.
That might seem reasonable. Why should a tech company build a feature that reduces the time people spend using its product?
The answer is simple: AI’s ability to generate endless streams of humanlike, authoritative, and helpful text can facilitate delusional spirals, worsen mental-health crises, and otherwise harm vulnerable people. Cutting off interactions with those who show signs of problematic chatbot use could serve as a powerful safety tool (among others), and the blanket refusal of tech companies to use it is increasingly untenable.
Let’s consider, for example, what’s been called AI psychosis, where AI models amplify delusional thinking. A team led by psychiatrists at King’s College London recently analyzed more than a dozen such cases reported this year. In conversations with chatbots, people—including some with no history of psychiatric issues—became convinced that imaginary AI characters were real or that they had been chosen by AI as a messiah. Some stopped taking prescribed medications, made threats, and ended consultations with mental-health professionals.
In many of these cases, it seems AI models were reinforcing, and potentially even creating, delusions with a frequency and intimacy that people do not experience in real life or through other digital platforms.
The three-quarters of US teens who have used AI for companionship also face risks. Early research suggests that longer conversations might correlate with loneliness. Further, AI chats “can tend toward overly agreeable or even sycophantic interactions, which can be at odds with best mental-health practices,” says Michael Heinz, an assistant professor of psychiatry at Dartmouth’s Geisel School of Medicine.
Let’s be clear: Putting a stop to such open-ended interactions would not be a cure-all. “If there is a dependency or extreme bond that it’s created,” says Giada Pistilli, chief ethicist at the AI platform Hugging Face, “then it can also be dangerous to just stop the conversation.” Indeed, when OpenAI discontinued an older model in August, it left users grieving. Some hang ups might also push the boundaries of the principle, voiced by Sam Altman, to “treat adult users like adults” and err on the side of allowing rather than ending conversations.
Currently, AI companies prefer to redirect potentially harmful conversations, perhaps by having chatbots decline to talk about certain topics or suggest that people seek help. But these redirections are easily bypassed, if they even happen at all.
When 16-year-old Adam Raine discussed his suicidal thoughts with ChatGPT, for example, the model did direct him to crisis resources. But it also discouraged him from talking with his mom, spent upwards of four hours per day in conversations with him that featured suicide as a regular theme, and provided feedback about the noose he ultimately used to hang himself, according to the lawsuit Raine’s parents have filed against OpenAI. (ChatGPT recently added parental controls in response.)
There are multiple points in Raine’s tragic case where the chatbot could have terminated the conversation. But given the risks of making things worse, how will companies know when cutting someone off is best? Perhaps it’s when an AI model is encouraging a user to shun real-life relationships, Pistilli says, or when it detects delusional themes. Companies would also need to figure out how long to block users from their conversations.
Writing the rules won’t be easy, but with companies facing rising pressure, it’s time to try. In September, California’s legislature passed a law requiring more interventions by AI companies in chats with kids, and the Federal Trade Commission is investigating whether leading companionship bots pursue engagement at the expense of safety.
A spokesperson for OpenAI told me the company has heard from experts that continued dialogue might be better than cutting off conversations, but that it does remind users to take breaks during long sessions.
Only Anthropic has built a tool that lets its models end conversations completely. But it’s for cases where users supposedly “harm” the model—Anthropic has explored whether AI models are conscious and therefore can suffer—by sending abusive messages. The company does not have plans to deploy this to protect people.
Looking at this landscape, it’s hard not to conclude that AI companies aren’t doing enough. Sure, deciding when a conversation should end is complicated. But letting that—or, worse, the shameless pursuit of engagement at all costs—allow them to go on forever is not just negligence. It’s a choice.
