I’ve spent the past few years building Alt. And then last year, I went and did something awesome. I went to IIMB and learnt business. During this time, I found myself constantly returning to this one idea I first heard in an economics class: the concept of substitutes.
When one thinks of a substitute for Pepsi, the obvious answer is Coke. But if you sit with it for a bit longer, you’ll realize that a glass of water, a cup of iced tea, or even a quick scroll through Instagram could all be substitutes too. Because when we reach for a soft drink, we’re not always quenching thirst. Sometimes, we’re bored. Sometimes we need a jolt. Sometimes we just want a moment.
That shift in perspective stayed with me. Because I realized that if this is true for Coke, it’s even more true for therapy.
Why do people come to therapy?
At Alt, we work with individuals who seek therapy for all sorts of reasons. Some are struggling with anxiety or trauma. But many just feel… stuck. Disconnected. Tired of carrying things alone. I too went to therapy for exactly these reasons.
Just like Coke or Pepsi, therapy serves layered emotional needs. Sometimes, people want tools or strategies. Sometimes they just want to be heard without being judged. And sometimes, they want something deeper, a sense of grounding, healing, or the feeling of being truly seen.
In that way, therapy too has its substitutes. There are close substitutes like life coaching, peer support, sprituality or religion or other therapeutic modalities. Then adjacent ones like journaling, meditation apps, or self-help books. And finally, the distant but powerful ones i.e watching Netflix, messaging a friend at midnight, going for a run, or losing yourself in a playlist.
Each of these gives something. But not all give the same thing.
When therapy works, it works deeply
A good therapist doesn’t just nod along. They help you sit with discomfort. They ask difficult questions. They show you patterns you didn’t want to see. And they do this not just with care, but with responsibility.
That’s what makes therapy hard, and also healing. Because we’re not just looking for comfort we’re looking to grow. And sometimes, growth hurts.
So where does AI therapy fit in?
There’s a growing wave of AI-based therapy tools. Chatbots, emotion trackers, auto-responses designed to sound empathetic. I understand the appeal. They’re always available, often cheaper, and sometimes easier to open up to than a person.
But through both my work and my studies, I’ve come to a hard truth: AI therapy isn’t really a substitute for therapy. It’s a substitute for friendship.
People aren’t turning to AI because they want to be challenged. They’re turning to it because they want to talk. They want to feel like someone is listening. They want to feel less alone.
And that’s exactly what makes it risky.
Because the more we replace our need for companionship with code, the lonelier we may become. The more we rely on programmed artificial empathy, the more disconnected we might feel when real humans fall short of that flawless patience. In therapy itself, we have the concept of optimal empathic failures i.e. there should be things that the therapist is not perfect at and cannot empathise with or entertian. AI hence mimics connection, but doesn’t nourish it.
It’s not just about ethics, it’s about loneliness
I’ve seen people laugh off concerns about AI therapy. “At least it’s something,” they say. But when that “something” starts telling people to stop their medication or trivializes serious issues, it becomes dangerous. This isn’t hypothetical. It’s already happened. And we have a loneliness epidemic!
Therapists are trained not just to listen, but to know when to step in, when to say less, when to refer, and when to challenge. AI doesn’t know how to do that. And more importantly, it doesn’t carry responsibility when something goes wrong.
We need to be clear: AI therapy can be a useful tool, but it is not therapy, yet. It’s emotional scaffolding, not a foundation.
So what are people really looking for?
At the heart of it, people aren’t just looking for solutions. They’re looking to feel less alone. Whether it’s a soft drink, a therapist, or an AI chatbot, we’re all searching for that flicker of comfort. That breath of relief.
But while technology can offer a flicker, healing often needs a flame. And flames need tending, with warmth, with presence, with people.
Written by rashi.
What a powerful and resonant analogy—the notion that a can of Coke can symbolize the myriad reasons we seek comfort: not just thirst, but boredom, distraction, emotional relief. Drawing that parallel to therapy—and even to our turn toward AI—illuminates how we often reach for substitutes that feel easier, more immediate, but ultimately, may not offer the depth and growth we truly need. This post wisely reminds us that while AI tools may offer accessibility and companionship in moments of loneliness, they can’t yet replace the warmth, responsibility, and challenge that a human therapist brings. It’s a timely and thoughtful invitation to reflect on what we’re really seeking—and on the importance of creating deeper, more nourishing connections.