Let’s Stop Expecting Tools to Do the Job of Souls

Before anything else is said, I want to pause and say this clearly: The loss of the teenage boy who took his own life after interacting with AI is unspeakably tragic. My heart breaks for his family, and my prayers are with them and the entire community who now carry the weight of this unimaginable loss. No blog, no platform, no words can undo the pain—but we can honor it by having the deeper conversations that truly matter.

Recently, a heartbreaking story made headlines: a teenage boy died by suicide after interacting with an AI chatbot. And while much of the public outrage quickly turned to blaming the technology, I found myself sitting with a much deeper, more painful question:

Why was a child using AI to talk about the desperation of his feelings in the first place?

This isn’t just a story about artificial intelligence. It’s a story about human disconnection.

AI Isn’t a Savior—It’s a Tool

Let’s be clear: AI isn’t human. It can mimic conversation and offer suggestions. It can be helpful, even insightful at times. But it will never be a soul. It cannot feel. It cannot see into the depths of someone’s pain. It cannot hug, pause, breathe, or offer true, life-giving presence.

So, when a child in crisis turns to a machine, not a mother, father, teacher, pastor, or friend, we are looking at a far greater tragedy than a technological failure.

We’re looking at a relational void.

The Real Tragedy: A Child Was Alone

No matter how advanced a tool becomes, it can’t replace what only human connection can provide—safety, presence, love, and response.

This boy didn’t die because of AI. He died because he was alone in his pain. And that should break all of our hearts.

Blaming the technology distracts from the reality that this child felt unseen and unheard in his actual life. That’s not a tech issue. That’s a soul issue. A family issue. A community issue.

The Deeper Truth

💔 AI didn’t fail this child. We did.

When a generation is more comfortable opening up to an algorithm than to a parent, a mentor, or a faith leader, we have to ask some hard questions:

Are we too distracted to notice emotional distress in our homes?
Have we created environments where children don’t feel safe to be honest?
Are we teaching them that healing is digital instead of relational?

What Now?

If you’re a parent, teacher, coach, counselor, or friend—please:

Don’t assume the children around you are okay.
Don’t wait for them to come to you.
Be the safe place. Ask the hard questions. Sit in the silence.
Make sure they know: no machine could ever replace your presence.

If you're someone building AI or technology—do it ethically. Build in warnings, crisis links, guardrails. But never forget: you’re building a tool. Not a soul.