Can A.I. Do Therapy?

At a time when artificial intelligence is touted as the answer to every problem, from diagnosing disease to writing best-sellers, one mental health claim deserves our scrutiny above all: the suggestion that AI can deliver therapy. 

As tempting as it sounds—instant sessions, 24/7 availability, zero wait times, and, hey, zero costs!—no machine, no matter how sophisticated, can replicate the depth of human empathy, nuance, and connection that an experienced therapist brings. 

For the mental health of our entire community, it’s vital we don’t let the mania around AI lull us into possible catastrophe. And that's not even to mention all the damage to human mental health that's going to result from the tsunami of sackings in many traditional industries that will follow from jobs being taken over by AI's.

The Limits of Algorithms in the Therapeutic Space

Therapy depends, at its heart, on a bond: a living, breathing rapport, a mixture of regard and trust, developed in real time. Even online video therapy has been shown by studies to offer the same sense of human connection that happens in a therapy room. Human therapists attune to body language, to vocal tone, even the slightest hesitation in a client’s narrative. We notice a catch in the throat, a fleeting tear, a vestigial shrug or involuntary frown. And what does AI “therapy” rely on? Statistical patterns drawn from anonymized transcripts, and a quick (and often wildly inaccurate) scrape across the surface of the Internet, all wrapped in a friendly, often fawning, conversational style. AI can mirror our words, simulate reflective listening, and dispense coping strategies, some of which will be based on reliable information—though examples of bad and even dangerous, racist, hallucinatory "help" being doled out by AI are already legion, and it can only be a matter of time before somebody dies because of some self-harm-inducing junk spewed out by an AI. Chatbots cannot perceive the unspoken, unscripted cues that slowly unveil a person’s inner world. Chatbots are not honest. They are not wise, experienced, or compassionate. 

The Dangers of Overselling AI’s Capabilities

Proponents of AI therapy gush about the convenience and affordability. They insist that chatbots trained on, for example, cognitive-behavioural techniques, can fill mental health gaps where professionals are scarce. Yet in countless real-world scenarios, this approach is perilous. Imagine that someone in crisis types, “I’m thinking of ending it all” to a chatbot, and gets the canned response: “I’m sorry you feel that way. Have you tried deep breathing?” Lacking any kind of  human intervention, these "helpful" scripts can fall catastrophically short of the nuanced assessment and urgent intervention a human therapist would provide. (If one of our clients seems at risk, our ethical guidelines require us to contact their GP—I've never had to do so, but, theoretically I could. A chatbot could not do that—and frankly, I never want to live in a world in which some anonymous automated system has the right to communicate with anybody about me.) 

Empathy Is More Than Words on a Screen

Psychologists agree that empathy is the engine of therapeutic change. It’s not just about parroting back a client’s feelings; it’s about the therapist’s own emotional presence, their capacity to hold discomfort without judgment, to make a space for hope, to guide clients toward insight and, ultimately, towards change. AI lacks consciousness, self-reflection, and any kind of inner life. A chatbot’s mimetic, algorithmic, “I understand how you feel” is meaningless—it is a bunch of zeroes and ones. It is a universe away from heartfelt human attunement. Lacking the lived experience and moral imagination of another human makes AI therapy vacuous—and it may leave clients feeling unheard, invalidated, and potentially at risk. 

The Risk of Normalizing Digital Therapy

If we allow AI to start shouldering our emotional burdens, we risk normalizing a high-tech substitute for genuine human care. (And I wonder how many of the billionaires getting even richer from the introduction of AI would recommend that any loved one of theirs who was suffering from a mental health issue should eschew high-quality human therapy in favour of some late-night typing into an AI.) Under-resourced NHS mental health services are already straining under lengthy waiting lists and rising costs. Hey, instead of investing in more training programmes for counsellors, let's fill the gaps with chatbots! No: that's like replacing GP's with online symptom-checking, and calling it a giant step for human health. We must resist the allure of quick fixes that ultimately diminish our very humanity, and erode our collective well-being.

Why Human Connection Still Matters

In many ways, therapy is as much an art as a science. A skilled therapist reads the space between words, offers a compassionate presence, and has the training to navigate complex traumas, personality dynamics, and cultural nuances. We support our clients, we work with them on tailored interventions, we co-construct plausible futures, we help them adjust course if things go awry, and we celebrate breakthroughs with genuine warmth. These qualities can’t be downloaded or coded—they result from professional expertise, personal insight, and an ethical commitment to doing no harm.

The Bottom Line: We All Need More Empathy—Not Less!

AI will continue to revolutionize many sectors, and, OK, it may play a supporting role in mental health—automating appointment reminders, perhaps, or suggesting resources. But when it comes to the intimate work of therapy, human connection will always be irreplaceable. For the sake of individuals and society, we must champion the real-world therapists who dedicate years to mastering the craft and art of healing. In mental health care, genuine empathy and professional judgment—the humanity that a good therapist offers—cannot be outsourced to a machine-learning system. 

Therapy relies more than anything on experience and trust. And you will never get those from an algorithm.

Martin Buckley