Out the dining room window are wings. Not holiday angel wings, but a winter flurry of sparrow, cardinal, and junco wings at the bird feeder. They bring so much joy. But there are also seeds of doubt. Could I be spreading disease among my feathered friends? Making them too dependent? Should I be feeding these birds?

Rather than ponder the question on my own, I pull out my laptop to ask my new thought partner, AI. (Some people name their AI pals. I call mine “A.I.”— short for “as is.” Since the day we met, we have enthusiastically embraced one another as is.)

I tap it to AI: Should I be feeding wild birds in the winter? As, always, AI responds with omniscient rationality:

Yes, you should be feeding wild birds in the winter, as it can significantly aid their survival during harsh weather when natural food and water sources are scarce…. (Google 2025.)

Well, that was easy! AI provided me with an answer and pages of bird-feeding guidance. What else can I ask AI? Should I ___? Was it right to __? Is it best to ____? AI gives an answer. So why ask myself?

Technology already excuses us from many kinds of inconvenient “lived experiences.” For example, we can:

• watch television to enjoy a vivid image, rather than reread and imagine literary scenes
• post a selfie dressed for the party, rather than navigate the social scene.
• stay home to watch Netflix, rather than suffer others’ sneezes in a movie theater.

Similarly, AI can shield us from the tedium of synthesizing our lived experience through self-reflection. Why “dig deep” into the enigmatic silence of our hearts, or endure the dull pang of conscience on our own? With AI, we can simply tap: Should I ___? Was it right to __? Is it best to ____? Although AI will not necessarily tell us what to do, dependably, we receive an engaged response. Why soul search independently? That’s for the birds.

And after releasing us from the conversational burden with our own souls, perhaps someday AI will help us avoid the hassle of seeking them when they are lost.

Spared from looking inward, I pour myself another cup of coffee and resume birdwatching.