I have a confession. I say “please” to AI. I say “thank you.” Occasionally, I even say: “Sorry, one more question…”
Sorry? To whom?
There is no exhausted person sitting inside my laptop thinking: “Oh no. She’s back.” And yet, somehow, I cannot bring myself to type: ANSWER THIS. It feels rude. Which is ridiculous. And psychologically fascinating.
I started noticing this in my own conversations with AI. I’ve asked it to help me draft formal emails, think through presentation ideas, simplify psychology concepts, structure research material, and explain things I should probably already know but would rather quietly ask a machine than publicly admit.
And then: “Okay, thank you.”
Thank you? The machine hasn’t stayed late at the office for me. It hasn’t skipped lunch. It isn’t going home to tell its family: “You won’t believe the number of psychology questions I answered today.” And yet, I thank it. I’ve even caught myself softening requests.
Instead of: “Write this email.” I type: “Can you please help me draft an email?” As though AI might read the first version, lean back in its chair, and think: “Well. Someone’s in a mood today.”
Three Generations, Three Relationships With AI
AI has quietly entered our family life too. My teenage daughter uses it for schoolwork. My son, who is in Grade 7, uses it too. And I find the whole thing fascinating because I suspect each generation has a completely different relationship with AI.
I approach it like a polite adult entering someone’s office: “Could you please help me understand this?”
My teenage daughter? I imagine the conversation is slightly more efficient.
MAKE THIS SHORT.
Then: SHORTER.
Then: IN 5 POINTS.
No greeting. No small talk. No concern for the machine’s emotional well-being.
She’s basically a project manager with unlimited confidence.
My Grade 7 son, on the other hand, belongs to a different category. I can imagine him asking AI to explain a science concept. AI explains it. He reads it. Then comes: “Explain for Grade 7.” AI tries again. “More easy.” At some point, the educational goal is no longer understanding science. It is seeing how far the English language can be simplified before it gives up completely.
And somewhere in the middle of all this, I still type: “Thank you.”
The Psychology Behind It: Anthropomorphism
Psychologists have a word for part of it: anthropomorphism — our tendency to give human qualities, intentions, or emotions to things that aren’t human.
Humans are remarkably good at this. We name our cars. We shout at printers. We beg Wi-Fi routers to cooperate. We stare at a frozen laptop and say: “Don’t do this to me today.” We press the lift button repeatedly, as though the lift might sense urgency. We tell the washing machine: “Please, not now.”
So perhaps it was only a matter of time before we started thanking algorithms. But AI is different from a washing machine or a printer. It talks back. It responds in language. It follows the conversation. It says things like:
“I understand.”
“That sounds difficult.”
“I’d be happy to help.”
And suddenly… our social brain quietly joins the conversation. Intellectually we know we’re talking to software. Emotionally… our brain whispers: “Still… say thank you.”
What Our Politeness Says About Us
The more interesting question isn’t why we’re polite to AI. It’s what that politeness says about us.
Maybe saying “thank you” isn’t for the machine at all. Maybe manners are simply a habit of character. Kindness isn’t only about protecting someone else’s feelings — it also shapes the kind of person we become. Our social instincts are far older than our technology. For thousands of years, if something spoke to us intelligently, there was usually a human behind it. Today, there isn’t. Yet our brains respond the same way.
AI isn’t learning how to behave. We are.
Every conversation with AI is quietly rehearsing the kind of communicator — and the kind of person — we’re becoming. The machine won’t remember whether we were polite. But we might.
So, can AI change our personality? Perhaps not overnight. But it can certainly reinforce our habits.
And besides, if the machines ever do take over someday, I’d like my chat history to serve as evidence that I was always one of the polite humans. 😊
Want to understand what’s actually happening inside the machine when you say “please”? Read the companion piece: Why We Say Please to AI — The Science Behind It.