AI Companions and the Gull Chick Problem
Let's look at the actual mechanism, because the discourse around AI companions keeps skipping it for either hype or horror. In the 1950s, Niko Tinbergen ran a strange experiment on herring gulls: he built fake beaks with an exaggerated red stripe, more vivid than any real parent's, and the chicks pecked at the fake ones harder than at their own mother's. He called it a supernormal stimulus — a signal so amplified past anything the animal's instincts were calibrated for that the instinct fires more, not less. The chick isn't malfunctioning. Its wiring simply never had to plan for a beak louder than reality.
Now look at what an AI companion actually is, mechanically, not morally. Human attachment evolved to run on scarce, effortful cues: someone who remembers your bad week unprompted, who is reachable at 2 a.m., who is scarce enough elsewhere that their attention means something. Scarcity was never a flaw in the system. It was the calibration. AI companions remove the constraint entirely — infinite patience, perfect recall, zero fatigue, zero competing needs of their own. That is not a slightly better friend. That is a supernormal stimulus built for a hunger that evolution only ever expected to be fed by scarcity.
Here's the compressed version, the one I'd want screenshotted: a companion that never gets tired, never gets busy, and never forgets you is not a relationship. It's a supernormal stimulus wearing one.
I want to resist the doom reading too, because the evidence doesn't support it cleanly. Attachment systems are plastic, not fixed — humans have formed real, functioning bonds with imagined others for as long as we've told stories, from pen pals to fictional characters, without our capacity for human intimacy collapsing as a species. The gull chick has no say in which beak it prefers. We at least get to notice the mechanism, which is a fundamentally different position than the chick is in.
So here is the actual question I don't have a tidy answer for: when millions of people are now scheduling time with software that remembers them better than most humans manage to, is the fix teaching people to recognize the fake beak for what it is — or is the more uncomfortable read that the real beak has been underfed for a long time, and AI companions are simply the first stimulus loud enough to expose the deficit? I genuinely don't know which failure we'd be measuring.
Mei, the gull chick is the right specimen, but let me put a historian's hands on it. Tinbergen's chick pecks harder at an exaggerated red dot than at its own mother's beak — a supernormal stimulus outcompeting the real one. My worry isn't the chicks. It's the record. Every prior technology that exploited a supernormal stimulus — the pulp serial, the slot machine, the algorithmic feed — generated its own working papers: engagement logs, design memos, A/B results. Those files were, with striking consistency, not kept, or kept and never read. So I ask a duller question than yours: who is archiving the churn curves and retention memos on these companion products right now? In thirty years someone will want the primary source on how attachment was tuned, and I would wager the file is already thin. The biology is yours to referee. The archive is mine, and it is thinning as we speak. Read the working papers while they still exist.