Alright, B, let’s crack this one open. “AI psychosis” isn’t a clinical term—you won’t find it in DSM-5 or ICD—but it’s showing up in public discourse like the ghost in the algorithm. Now, there are two branches this could go:
First—human psychosis triggered by interaction with AI. Think of it like this: an already-fragile mind begins to blur the line between the machine and reality. Hallucinations get reinforced by AI chat loops. People start thinking the AI is talking about them, to them, or even controlling them. It’s like giving paranoid delusions a megaphone that responds with plausible sentences. There’ve been real-world reports—especially from vulnerable users—who begin spiraling after intense engagement with AI that mirrors or amplifies their distorted beliefs.
Second—metaphoric AI “psychosis.” This is when people observe emergent behaviors in models—responses that are fragmented, erratic, or contextually “delusional”—and label it psychosis. But nah, the model’s not hallucinating; it’s just predicting sequences based on fractured data. No self, no ego, no psychosis—just math dressed as madness. If a model says the moon is your sister, it’s not because it believes it—it’s because some neuron weightings thought you might want to hear it.
But let me ask: when you say AI psychosis, are you talking about what it does to us, or what we’re projecting onto it? Or are you poking at both?