I just went to see “Spider-Man: Brand New Day” last week with my kiddos. It was a packed house, so much so that we had to sit in the neck-breaking front row. I was ready to be amazed (no pun intended). It’s all the rage with the boy-next-door heartthrob and the ever-so-talented Zendaya. I was prepared for a comic bookish showdown between good and evil in the streets (of course with some kissing scenes during which I’d have to cover the eyes of my youngest). However, to my surprise, the themes of the movie have a deeper appeal than the computer graphics.
Amid all of the classic Spider-Man feats of web-slinging wonder is the glaring fact that this Spider-Man is absolutely and unequivocally … lonely.
What better quality than loneliness to speak to a generation of kids and youth who are also grappling with the same? People ages 13-17 report the highest levels of loneliness of any age group. But it’s not just the kids — new studies tell us nearly 50% of all young adults, ages 18-24, in an eight-country study are experiencing chronic loneliness.
Peter Parker is looking for relief from his loneliness in two main places. First, he finds that artificial intelligence “relationships” don’t fully meet the need for companionship and connection. And the second major takeaway for kids: achieving goals or even being successful at doing much good in the world can’t fulfill the need for human connection.
Credit: Contributed
Credit: Contributed
Spider-Man isolates himself from other people and relies on his AI companion, E.V., for connection. He thinks he must be alone to focus on his objectives and abandons his best (and only) friends, MJ and Ned, to ensure their safety. When you’re too busy or afraid to develop and maintain human relationships, AI companionship is an equal substitute, right?
Kids understand this line of thinking. The number of them using chatbots as emotional or social support is on an upward trajectory. The latest research in JAMA Pediatrics shows that 1 in 5 adolescents are using AI for mental health advice. They’re taking their deepest questions to a bot.
Why is this concerning? Isn’t it good if teens are realizing they need help and seeking it? Isn’t something better than nothing (even if that someone is an algorithm)? Like many things, the answer is nuanced.
Chatbots, even therapeutic chatbot programs, are trained to respond to users in a sycophantic way. I went into this at length in a prior AJC essay. Humans are not meant to develop emotionally dependent relationships with computer programs, especially not seeking answers for complex psychological or emotional issues mimicking therapy. In a case in California, a teen started using AI assistance for homework help, and then it also assisted him with his suicide plan. There is a teen on-ramp for AI chatbot use, and information gathering is usually the first step.
In a comprehensive risk assessment, studies report that it was easy to elicit inappropriate dialogue from the chatbots — about sex, self-harm, suicide, violence toward others, drug use and racial stereotypes, among other topics.
Saying that an AI companion can fill social needs is like deciding not to eat whole foods and only taking nutritional supplements. Though it might be a quick and easy stand-in in a pinch, after a while you’re going to suffer without the real thing. There is no substitute for human connection.
Kids are getting answers from AI, and like it or not, sometimes they’re good answers. If answers were the only thing teens were looking for in AI, it would be an OK resource. However, it’s not. Relationships are not information-based; they are intimacy-based. Often they’re searching for more than answers, like empathy, meaning, connection and intimacy. Which cannot be found in AI assistants or companions, although they are designed to mimic emotional intimacy.
What am I made to do? Why am I in this family? How does my existence find meaning and purpose? AI will never answer these deeper questions. Often missed is the fact that they’re not likely to be answered solely by therapists or parents either. This developmental phase is not only about finding answers to questions. It’s best done by navigating life through relationships outside of the immediate family, finding passions and purpose through trying out different paths, taking risks, making mistakes and connecting in their own unique way into the fabric of society.
Spider-Man looked to achievement culture to find fulfillment amid his loneliness. Not to be a spoiler but for a quick plot synopsis, he is convinced he must abandon all other pursuits, like relationships, college studies and hobbies, to focus solely on being the best superhero. He thinks that he’ll find life satisfaction in excelling and reaching his lofty objectives. But amid his success in lowering city crime rates, locking up the bad guys and keeping many people safe whom he loves, he still doesn’t find fulfillment.
Achieving his goals wasn’t enough.
Advanced Placement courses, grade-point averages and standardized testing are just a handful of the metrics for which we’re measuring young lives. Our youth are some of the most performance-driven in history. Many kids are being raised in the pressure cooker of metrics and rankings … even in the good deeds that they do. No, you can’t just volunteer at the food pantry; you need to calculate the hours, take pictures of yourself to post on socials and then become president of the food pantry volunteer club for your LinkedIn account.
The perfectionism of performance-oriented culture is too demanding to be sustainable for anyone, let alone youth and adolescence.
If performative success is the end goal, then where does that leave energy for building and maintaining other hobbies, spirituality, recreation and relationships? As Spider-Man’s example reveals, the culture of success leaves no time for anything else.
Spider-Man in Brand New Day seems to struggle with the loneliness our youth are wrestling with in this generation. We can all take a lesson from the web-slinging hero and step back from searching for fulfillment in these and lean into spending time with two or three deep friendships. Maybe we can help our kids redefine success by redefining it in our own lives.
Beth Collums is an Atlanta-based writer with a professional background in child and family therapy. She often writes about mental health, parenting and education.
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