Can AI Truly Feel Love? Korean Review on Social Robots and Intimacy
A Korean-language book review examines a work by an American science writer about social robots and love, translated for Korean readers and published more than two years ago. The book asks a provocative, timely question: can AI ever truly feel love, or is it only capable of simulating it? The discussion centers on how people might form intimate bonds with increasingly capable machines and what that means for human relationships.
The author argues that today’s AI companions can imitate aspects of affection, but whether they can actually “feel” love in any human sense remains unresolved. The book suggests that defining love for a machine requires addressing whether AI can possess consciousness or a quality akin to it. In short, the book treats genuine love as something that remains unsettled when it comes to machines.
A persistent theme is the asymmetry in robot-human relationships. Humans endure pain, grow through encounters with others, and learn empathy. A robot partner, by contrast, cannot reject or betray in a human way, and its loyalty is programmed rather than earned. The author warns that such asymmetry could alter how people expect and experience love, with potentially unsettling consequences for personal development.
Looking ahead, the book imagines a world where robot lovers are commonplace. It cautions that vulnerable individuals might replace real human connections with robotic substitutes, effectively outsourcing companionship to machines. For readers, this raises questions about authenticity, dependency, and the long-term happiness of those who rely on robotic affection.
Tech philosopher Mark Coeckelbergh is cited to focus on human freedom in relationships: people want to feel chosen and genuinely recognized, even amid the possibility of rejection. The argument is that robots cannot offer true mutual choice or the same depth of rejection, which could blunt the necessary challenges that human partnerships provide. The result, the author worries, is a tendency to expect the same dynamics from human partners as from machines.
Cultural examples are used to illuminate the issue. The Netflix series Monthly Boyfriend, which features AI-driven romantic narratives, is cited as a cultural mirror of how people are increasingly treating AI as emotional companions. In another vein, Nintendo’s LovePlus—a dating-simulation game popular among older single men—asks players to imagine a partner who accepts them as they are, a fantasy the book treats as romantically appealing yet potentially corrosive to real social interaction. A Swedish photographer’s interviews with players underscore the pull of being accepted and cherished, highlighting a tension between romance and realism.
The author does not deny potential benefits of social robots. They may offer emotional stability for lonely seniors or provide predictable support in therapies for certain children. Yet the central thesis remains: even when humans form attachments to robots, the relationship is fundamentally a reflection of the human self and its needs. The book argues that maintaining awareness of this self-reflective loop is essential to prevent drift toward isolation or diminished expectations in real-life relationships.
For United States readers, the discussion is especially relevant as AI companionship becomes a growing part of consumer technology, elder care, and therapeutic tools. The book prompts policymakers, technologists, and mental-health professionals to consider how social robots shape intimacy, autonomy, and social connectedness. It also offers a framework for evaluating how future AI advances might influence dating norms, workplace dynamics, and the safety and privacy of intimate data.