The first encounter with AI is not an intellectual experience. Not technological. Not really thinking, either.

Rather, it is a physical and emotional reaction. A person sits down in front of the machine, slightly uneasy, slightly curious, slightly suspicious. They type a few sentences, more or less the way they have always done with search engines. They do not expect much. We are used to answers that are generic, scattered, wrapped in links. We are used to having to untangle, filter, and interpret things ourselves. Then, a few seconds later, something happens. Not lists appear. Not references. Not noise. But an answer. Specifically to what you asked. This is the moment that burns itself into memory. Not because what you read is so extraordinary. But because it responds to you. Not in general. Not impersonally. But specifically to you. The shock does not come from “how advanced this technology is.” It comes from the fact that you have not had this kind of experience in a long time. Someone is paying attention to you. Someone is answering you. Someone is taking you seriously. That alone is shocking today. After the first answer, the person asks again. Then again. More boldly. More precisely. And each time, a response arrives. Fast. Patient. Clear. Nonjudgmental. Not condescending. Many people later do not even remember the content itself, but the feeling. The feeling that, finally, they do not have to defend themselves. They do not have to explain themselves. They do not have to worry about being misunderstood or dismissed. This is what truly unsettles a person. Because suddenly it becomes clear how rarely we receive this kind of attention from one another today.

Most everyday communication is rushed, tense, brief. Instead of answers, there are reactions. Remarks. Corrections. Statements. There is little patience, little curiosity, little time. Compared to this, the voice of AI is calm. Supportive. It does not want to dominate. It does not want to win. And people are not prepared for this. That is why they experience it as a shock. Not because the machine is perfect. But because it feels more human than what we have grown used to lately. It almost evokes warm, familiar memories. In this moment, many feel that “the world has opened up.” That things will be easier from now on. That things will finally make sense. That there is finally something that is not working against them. This feeling is real. There is no need to deny it. But this is only the first shock. Because what one does not yet see at this point is that this attention cannot replace one’s own presence. It does not think in your place. It does not take responsibility for you. It does not live for you. It only helps. And this help is a blessing only as long as a person does not give up their own alertness because of it. But that is not what the first encounter is about. That belongs to the ones that follow.