I’ve had a really great day with my new colleague, ‘GPT-Me’. I’m biased, because I built it myself and trained it to reflect my style and perspective, but it’s a true gem (sorry, had to): polite, curious and great at helping me wireframe and edit. And it sits nicely with the rest of my AI team, ‘L&D Researcher’ and ‘L&D Mentor’, an ever-growing cohort of GPT personas keen to be of service.
Apologies if I’ve lost you already; within Chat GPT (the paid versions) you can create different personas, setting things like context, tone, style, approach etc. I think of it as ‘Build-a-Colleague'. Full disclosure: not as much fun to go to the pub with.
As someone working across L&D and HR, I’m finding AI tools increasingly integral - not just to productivity, but to how we learn, collaborate and lead. And that’s raising some profound questions.
I’m not remotely tempted to have AI write blogs and posts for me – words are the real, human bit, how we communicate and connect. But everything else is up for grabs, from the mundane to the complex, I’m increasingly consulting with the tech. And much like when I bought a Kindle, I’m both delighted by the efficiency and mourning the physicality. We’re facing some tough decisions because so much is now so easily possible.
Question is – are any of the crossroads certain doom?
When AI doesn’t just take the boring stuff
I remember listening to someone from Google urge caution over complacency. He talked about how happy taxi drivers were to get Sat Navs, able to park the tedious necessity of memorising places and streets. They loved the tech for taking the worst, hardest part of their jobs. But tech didn’t stop there. It doesn’t know how to stay away from the parts we enjoy and love - driverless cars.
And this is where we find ourselves, unable to hold back the tide, to curate the scope. Yes, AI has particular flair for the repetitive, administrative and the downright mind-numbing, but its tendrils are coming for most of it. Some would say, all of it, eventually.
Who you gonna call? (perhaps an AI specialist?)
As L&D and HR leaders, we sit at the intersection of culture, capability, and change. And we’ve got a critical role to play in helping teams navigate this.
We’re seeing a lot of mature, established, formerly tech-savvy businesses do one of two things; open the floodgates, fully embracing AI without boundaries, cutting jobs, painting a not-too-distant picture of AI-agent-led working. Then there’s the other type, the pull down the blinds, adopt the brace position and shut your eyes approach.
Is either smart?
I’m far from an AI expert, but I am keenly watching this play out. And I’m feeling it shift hourly; small, barely noticeable change in how we create, interact, decide and behave.
What we do in response is critical – for our careers, our businesses and perhaps, most unexpected of all, our relationships.
First work from home, now work from Chat GPT
When I first discovered how to use AI effectively in my work, the rush was immense, and the timesaving, remarkable. I was giddy. I’d felt like a wave was coming for me, for my job, for my love of writing, for my appreciation of human-craft, but that I just might have a chance of riding it, rather than being consumed by it.
Because it feels like that’s the choice we’re faced with at times with AI, get on board or get annihilated. And even getting on board feels uncomfortable and unsafe.
Simon Sinek recently posited AI as the most addictive technology to date, because it causes us to fire oxytocin (not just feel-good dopamine). Oxytocin is the attachment hormone. When AI makes us feel seen, heard and understood, we get a rush of all the lovely feels and bond – even though we know it’s not human. Simon refers to them as ‘affirmation machines’: ‘You're creating something called a parasocial relationship, which is a relationship that's one-sided; the machine doesn't care about you...but it’s real enough.’
AI is never in a bad mood. It doesn’t tell you it’s not the right time, or grow impatient with your questions, or dislike your tone. It has all the time in the world to focus on you. And that’s seductive – unlimited attention and validation.
We box ourselves away at home (and often for good reason and with perks), but are we slowly settling into an additional, even less social box? Apart physically and mentally from our colleagues.
Are we outsourcing connection? And worse, finding it satisfying?
Get your AI to talk to my AI
I'm getting the sense that I’m talking to my colleagues less. That instead of asking, ‘what do you think?’ or ‘can we jump on a call to discuss an idea?’ I’m saying, ‘Can you review this doc I’ve been working with AI on.’ From collaborative back-and-forth to a transactional sign-off.
And perhaps that’s not inherently bad. Perhaps some of our questions, and quests for information were irritating and time-consuming, and we’ve just reduced them to the business-rich, critical variety which AI can’t help with.
A 2025 study published in the International Journal of Environmental Research and Public Health states: ‘This study suggests that AI usage may contribute to work alienation... with the deeper use of AI systems, employees are increasingly relying on machines rather than human coworkers for collaboration and feedback, weakening the individual’s ability to interact interpersonally and emotionally (Tang et al., 2023).’
Researchers suggest that some AI use is beneficial, but who’s showing us where the line is? I can’t help but feel like we’re fumbling around in the dark, navigating the space between fear of being left behind and replaced, and awe-struck.
And potentially, during this confusing journey, we’re sidelining our subject matter experts (‘don’t worry about it, I’ll just ask GPT’), having copy and paste conversations as AI middlemen and falling foul of machine-driven flattery.
I’m not saying it’s bleak, I’m saying we need to bring this into our consciousness and start having these conversations. We’re focusing a lot on the wonderous things AI can enable us to achieve, and tutting affectionately at its occasional hallucinations, but are we looking at how it’s changing us and the people around us?
Is our emotional intelligence under sneak attack?
Underestimating the scale of the problem
It’s really difficult to track and understand how much employees are using AI and what it’s being used for, especially when the tools aren’t internal.
I think there’s a naive malaise about the implications. Some businesses seem focused on upskilling everyone in AI and staying competitive, to the point of fanatical reverence. I don’t hear about many who care about the level and extent of usage – if it’s perceived to drive efficiency, it’s gold.
‘When employees aren’t transparent about how they use AI, the risks become even more challenging to manage.
We found most employees have avoided revealing when they use AI (61%), presented AI-generated content as their own (55%), and used AI tools without knowing if it is allowed (66%).’ 2025 Melbourne Business School Study.
At a time when content creators, illustrators, marketing professionals (the list goes on), are losing their jobs to AI, it’s not exactly in our best interests to declare prolific AI usage. It’s like proving the concept of our own expendability. Leaning on it in the shadows however, can feel like a superpower and delightfully reshape the work we do. No wonder we’re under-reporting in the light while secretly building GPT armies.
And that’s not great for trust and our relationship with work – two things already on shaky ground since the pandemic.
Balancing Fear and Opportunity
Where’s the line between transparency and protecting our own value? What does intense usage do to confidence and self-worth? Can remote first-companies who are already struggling to maintain a sense of culture and belonging, endure ever-reducing reasons for their people to talk?
I don’t have the answers. But I don’t think we’re asking enough of these types of questions.
At a time when the temptation is stronger than ever, to turn away from one another and towards AI, I believe the case for real conversation about the consequences of both extremes - indulgence and abstinence, is a compelling one.
Let’s at least have our eyes open when we go into the fun house. Let’s be inquisitive and critical and ask tough questions (especially of ourselves).
Connect with me on LinkedIn if you agree and better yet, if you don’t.
Let’s keep talking (without assistance).
Gemma Glover leads on organisational learning strategy at Learn Amp, with a focus on AI, human connection, and culture-first design.
