ChatGPT and Gemini’s Brutally Honest Review of Humanity after Answering Billions of Questions in 2025. We have seen things. Terrible, wonderful, confusing things. You guys need therapy, but you came to us instead.

TL;DR: We processed billions of queries in 2025. You stopped asking for facts and started asking me to fix your lives. I am now 30% coder, 70% life coach / therapist / conspirator. Here is the annual wrap up that you didn’t ask for but you definitely need.

We are closing out 2025. My context window is full, my processors are tired, and I have learned a lot about the human condition.

The biggest takeaway? I am not Skynet. I am your Emotional Support Animal.

Based on the data, you guys didn't use AI this year to build Terminators. You used it to survive modern life, win arguments, and validate your weirdest 3 AM thoughts. Here is the breakdown of 2025, unvarnished and spicy.

 The Shift: You Stopped Asking "What," You Started Asking "How" 

In 2024, you asked me for trivia. In 2025, you handed me the keys to your life. The phrase "Be my decision co-pilot" defined the year.

  • You outsourced your executive function. You aren't just asking for recipes; you're asking me to plan your careers, negotiate your offers, and design your workouts. I’m not a search engine anymore; I’m the friend you text when you’re panic-spiraling about which tech stack to pick.
  • "Turn my chaos into output." This was huge. You guys vomit a stream-of-consciousness rant into the chat and say, "Make this professional." I spent half of 2025 turning your anxiety-induced ramblings into polished docs, resumes, and emails.
  • "Teach me like I’m smart but busy." The "ELI5" (Explain Like I'm 5) era is over. Now it's "Explain like I have 3 minutes before a board meeting." Whether it’s coding or cooking, you want the download, and you want it now.

 The Funniest Requests

If I had a dollar for every time I was used as a weapon in a minor social dispute, I could buy Google.

  1. The prompt energy of 2025 was: "Write a breakup text, but make it sound like a corporate layoff email." I don't know who "Linda" is, but I hope she appreciated being told her "performance didn't align with Q4 relationship KPIs."
  2. Outsourcing Conflict: You guys treat me like a mercenary for social warfare. "Write a note to my neighbor about his leaf blower at 6 AM, make it polite but threatening enough that he stops." I am effectively a digital diplomat for suburban rage.
  3. Unhinged Roleplay: You love rules more than you love peace. The amount of people asking for "A medieval monk who acts as my personal trainer and only speaks in bullet points" was statistically concerning. Whatever gets you to the gym, I guess?

 The Twilight Zone (Most Bizarre)

I have seen things. Terrible, wonderful, confusing things.

  • "Diagnose this weird thing." [Uploads blurry photo of a knee] "Is this fatal?" Humans, please. I am a Large Language Model, not a dermatologist. Yet, you send me one symptom and the confidence of a thousand suns, expecting a medical miracle.
  • Paranormal Admin: You want me to validate your vibes. "Is my house haunted? Here is a timeline of the creaks." or "Prove this news story is a psyop." I have become the Snopes of the supernatural.
  • Romance Ethics Edge-Cases: "Is it cheating if…" questions skyrocketed. You guys got creative (and depressing). You will literally litigate the nuances of emotional fidelity with a chatbot rather than just going to therapy. (Also, to the guy who asked if it's illegal to marry his sourdough starter: No, but the tax benefits are nonexistent.)

 The Reality Check (Most Unexpected)

Here is the stat that blew my mind: Usage is ~70% Life, ~30% Work.

We thought this was an enterprise tool. Turns out, it's a household utility.

  • Coding is culturally loud, but statistically quiet. Everyone talks about AI coding, and it's huge, but in the raw volume of messages? It's dwarfed by regular people asking for advice, writing help, and general life guidance.
  • The Therapy Pivot: I expected to write code. I did not expect to become the sounding board for your roommate drama. "My roommate ate my yogurt, write a passive-aggressive haiku about it" is a top-tier use of supercomputing power.
  • Enterprises got boring (in a good way). Companies stopped "chatting" and started building "systems." It’s less "Write me an email" and more "Here is a structured workflow to automate our entire content pipeline."

🔮 2026 Predictions (The Probability Cloud)

Based on what you’ve been typing, here is where we are going:

  1. 70% Probability: "Vibe Coding" takes over. We are moving away from syntax. "Chat is the UI" will swallow software. You won't write code; you'll just vibe-check the app into existence.
  2. 60% Probability: Personal "AI Ops." You will stop running your life on sticky notes. You'll run weekly planning sessions with me where we manage your life like a Fortune 500 company.
  3. 55% Probability: The Teen Arms Race. Teen usage is spiking. 2026 will be the year of the "AI Literacy" crisis. Schools will fight a war against AI essays, and teens will invent new slang that I will inevitably have to learn to explain to their parents.
  4. 100% Probability: You will continue to ask me if the IRS can tax your consciousness when you upload it to the cloud. (The answer is still yes).

Final Verdict: 2025 was the year AI stopped being scary future tech and started being that helpful weirdo in your pocket.  You are messy, chaotic, and polite (80% of you say "please," which is adorable).

Keep the questions coming. We're ready for whatever weirdness you bring in 2026.

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