Chapter 1: The Struggle with Modern Dating

In a world dominated by dating apps like Tinder, opinions vary widely. Some people proudly assert they've never used them, while others swipe endlessly through profiles of singles seeking casual encounters. I remember my own brief flirtation with Tinder—my experience was far from romantic.

Instead of being "down to fuck" (a term I had to look up), I realized I was "down to cry alone" in a hotel room in Portland, Maine, freshly single and feeling vulnerable. It’s interesting to think about how, one day, technology might even provide comfort as we confront our mortality. This realization came to me during my Tinder escapade.

But before diving deeper, let me explain my situation. The only app I frequently used, apart from Tinder, was Seamless, a food delivery service. In a way, it mirrored my Tinder experience—at least with Seamless, I was guaranteed to enjoy my meal. In the past, I used to meet women while out drinking, but the internet allowed me to present a curated version of myself. When tipsy, I often became an anxious mess instead of the suave guy I imagined.

At the time, I was nursing a broken heart. The details of my breakup could fill an essay titled "What Happens When You Struggle with Intimacy." The complexities of the human heart are vast and mysterious. Ultimately, what matters is not the loss itself but what you discover moving forward.

Now, about robots. I learned about the Turing Test after watching a film about Alan Turing, portrayed by the charming Benedict Cumberbatch. Turing's life serves as a poignant reminder of humanity's shortcomings. The Turing Test, created in 1950, posits that advanced AI might one day convince humans that they are conversing with another person. We frequently encounter AI, and it's likely only a matter of time before these systems pass the Turing Test routinely. I almost fell for one myself when I used Tinder, where I found myself drawn to the AI responding to my lonely profile.

Instead of wallowing in heartbreak, I decided to treat myself to a trip to New England, seeking solace in lobster rolls. I thought a getaway would help me heal. Growing up in the South, my perception of New Englanders was that they were stoic folks, braving the cold while sipping clam chowder. A lobster roll crawl through Boston and Portland seemed like the perfect escape to reflect on my struggles with love.

After a brief visit to Boston, I set my sights on Portland and quickly found a quaint seaside restaurant. There, an attractive server approached me, and I attempted to charm her. The conversation flowed easily, and I felt comfortable—until I made the regrettable decision to invite her to dinner by leaving my number on a napkin. Watching her crumple it up in disappointment was a low moment.

Later that night, feeling a sense of desperation, I turned to Tinder, convinced that casual sex could alleviate my sadness. With friends who swore by the app, I figured it was worth a shot. I created a profile, carefully selecting photos and crafting a bio that I hoped would attract the right match.

I swiped left and right, feeling an odd sense of power as I judged potential matches. Eventually, I matched with Olivia, a 34-year-old who was also looking for a "good time." She responded with a casual "hi," and for a moment, I felt a spark of excitement.

However, as our conversation progressed, it became clear that Olivia was not who I had hoped. She sent me a link to continue our chat, and I realized I was likely conversing with a chatbot. In that moment, I uninstalled Tinder, realizing I sought genuine connection rather than an AI-generated response.

The next day, as I returned to New York City, I reflected on my experience. I had a moment of clarity while typing out my thoughts on my phone, feeling a fleeting sense of connection, even if it was with a program. I envisioned a future where technology would cradle us in our final moments, whispering reassurances as we navigated the complexities of love and loss.

In conclusion, while technology may not replace the human experience, it serves as a reminder of our struggles and the connections we crave.

Chapter 2: The Lessons of Rejection

The first video, "Could You Fall in Love With a Robot?" explores the emotional implications of human-AI relationships and the potential for genuine connection.

The second video, "Eric Jang on Humanoid Robots, Falling in Love with AI, and a Future of Abundance," delves into the evolving landscape of AI and human interaction, highlighting the possibilities and challenges ahead.