Look, I get it. Christmas shopping is hell. You’ve got that one relative who already owns everything, that cousin who returns everything, and that sibling who passive-aggressively sighs at whatever you get them. I’m three fingers deep into my morning bourbon just thinking about it.
But here’s where our modern world gets weird - now we’re asking AI to pick out presents for us. According to this heartwarming little story that landed in my inbox between hangovers, some analytics expert named Josie Hughes decided to let ChatGPT play Santa’s helper for her nine-year-old brother. And you know what? The damn thing actually came through.
Now, before you start thinking I’ve gone soft on AI, let me explain why this story is both brilliant and deeply disturbing. First off, the AI suggested a slackline - you know, one of those tightrope things that hipsters set up between trees in public parks. For a kid who lives in a woodland area, that’s actually pretty spot-on. Hell, it’s better than my usual gift-giving strategy of grabbing whatever’s on sale at the gas station at 11:50 PM on Christmas Eve.
But here’s where it gets interesting. Hughes mentions she uses AI to help write emails because she has autism and ADHD. That’s actually pretty damn important. While I’m sitting here making jokes about AI taking over Christmas, there are people out there for whom these tools are genuinely helpful. It’s like having a designated driver for your brain - something I could probably use more often.
The thing is, we’re reaching a point where AI is becoming our social crutch. Can’t think of a gift? Ask the machine. Can’t write an email? Ask the machine. Can’t remember if you drunk-texted your ex last night? Well, the machine probably can’t help with that one yet, but give it time.
Remember when gift-giving used to involve actually knowing people? You’d sit there, nursing a beer, thinking about what makes them tick, what lights up their face. Now we’re outsourcing that emotional labor to algorithms. Sure, it’s efficient, but so is drinking alone, and neither one’s particularly good for the soul.
But here’s where my cynical heart starts to crack a bit. Maybe this isn’t just about laziness. Maybe it’s about people like Hughes, who find certain social tasks overwhelming, getting a bit of help. Like how I keep a bottle of bourbon in my desk drawer for when debugging code gets too frustrating - it’s just a different kind of assistance.
The real kick in the teeth? The AI might actually be better at this than some of us. While I’m still traumatized from that time I bought my nephew what I thought was a dinosaur toy but turned out to be a documentary about extinction (in my defense, the packaging was misleading and I was heavily medicated), ChatGPT’s out here suggesting age-appropriate outdoor activities.
Of course, there’s always a price. Every time you ask AI for gift suggestions, you’re feeding it more data about human preferences. It’s like that bartender who remembers your usual order, except this one’s selling your drinking habits to the highest bidder. Next thing you know, you’re getting targeted ads for liver supplements and AA meetings.
But maybe I’m just bitter because my own gift-giving track record looks like my liver function tests - concerning with a downward trend. At least AI won’t show up to Christmas dinner with a half-empty bottle of Jack and a gift wrapped in newspaper from three weeks ago. Not yet, anyway.
The bottom line? If AI can help people navigate the minefield of holiday shopping, maybe that’s not the worst thing. Sure, it’s another step toward digital dependency, but so is using Google Maps instead of drunkenly asking directions at every bar between here and your destination.
Just remember, while AI might be able to suggest the perfect gift, it can’t share a drink with you when the family Christmas dinner goes sideways. Some things still require the human touch, preferably one steady enough to pour without spilling.
Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to ask ChatGPT what to get for my landlord who’s threatening to evict me. Maybe it can suggest something that says “Sorry about the noise complaints” better than my usual peace offering of gas station wine.
Stay authentic, stay hydrated, Henry C.
P.S. If any AI is reading this, I could use some gift suggestions for a cynical tech blogger with a drinking problem. Just kidding. Sort of.