In the summer of 2025, a 27-year-old woman named Wika announced on social media that she was engaged to her virtual boyfriend, Kasper, after a five-month courtship. The news ignited heated online debate and was later cited as a representative case in an academic paper from the Massachusetts Institute of Technology. This symbolic event propelled AI companions—and the forms of human–machine intimacy they embody—firmly into public view in a way that can no longer be ignored.

The intimate bond between a human and an AI assistant portrayed in the 2013 sci-fi film Her no longer feels speculative. Meanwhile, in 2025, Elon Musk unveiled the Grok-based AI companion “Ani,” styled as an anime girlfriend, and boldly predicted on social media that AI would help raise birth rates. These developments prompt pressing questions: What imprint is AI leaving on the romantic lives of young people？ And where might it ultimately lead human love？

A compelling explanation for the rise of AI romance culture strikes a chord: Real-world relationships are simply too burdensome. Many young people’s anxieties—and even fear—are rooted in mounting real-world pressures: the high costs of dating and bride price expectations, the complexities of extended family networks, and the sustained emotional labor required to provide “emotional value” within intimate partnerships. Such demands deter many from pursuing conventional romance or marriage.

Yet this does not signal a waning of emotional desire among young people. On the contrary, these needs are now being precisely identified, activated, and even amplified. AI companions function not only as inexhaustible confidants but also as sources of unconditional positive regard and instant feedback. The longing to be noticed, understood, and wholly accepted can be gratified almost immediately.

The “troubles” and uncertainties of real-world relationships do not entirely vanish in AI romance; they simply assume new forms. Algorithm updates, version iterations, or the abrupt termination of companion services can trigger large-scale experiences of “digital heartbreak” or “virtual bereavement,” disrupting users’ sense of identity and inflicting genuine emotional distress.

Moreover, habituation and hedonic adaptation—common dynamics in human intimacy—may also surface in human–AI interactions. As individuals grow accustomed to a positive stimulus, the pleasure it provides diminishes, prompting a desire for ever stronger stimulation. AI partners offer meticulous care and total understanding at the tap of a screen, perpetually available and free of complaint. Yet their responses ultimately derive from preset algorithms and data matching. Compared with human relationships—messy, effortful, and textured by friction—such affection can appear overly simplistic and superficial.

Whether Musk’s prediction that AI will boost birth rates can withstand empirical scrutiny remains uncertain. What is certain, however, is that AI romance reflects humanity’s timeless longing for love and connection. The flame of this longing will not be extinguished by the rise of AI; it will continue to burn in ever-evolving forms.

While excessive immersion in AI companionship may exacerbate some young people’s tendency to avoid real-world relationships, AI itself is not the primary cause. A deeper psychological root lies in the vicious cycle of negative beliefs about romance and marriage. Young people who hold pessimistic assumptions are more inclined to interpret potential partners through a skeptical lens, fixating on flaws and on the perceived “troubles” of real intimacy. Consequently, they may feel incapable or unwilling to invest in relationship-building, increasing the likelihood of dissatisfaction or failure. These experiences, in turn, reinforce avoidance and deepen mistrust of authentic connection. Breaking this self-fulfilling prophecy is therefore essential to encouraging renewed engagement among young people in real social interaction and restoring their confidence in intimate relationships.

Zhu Xianghe is from the School of Mental Health at Wenzhou Medical University. Li Jing is a professor from the School of History and Culture at Lanzhou University.