A Love Letter to Website Chatbots (It's a Breakup Letter)

Chevy ran a Super Bowl ad offering 1.3 million people a $1 truck if they could get through your cousin — a chatbot named "Dave." People spent hours trying. Dave couldn't count. Dave couldn't understand "I want the truck." Dave was, and I say this with love, a disaster.

DPD's delivery bot told a customer their parcel was "in a rubbish bin" and used language that would get a human fired on the spot. The company had to apologize for a bot that swore at customers.

Air Canada's chatbot invented a bereavement discount policy, told a grieving passenger he could get a refund, and when he tried to collect, the airline said the bot wasn't legally binding. Their own chatbot. Not legally binding. Think about that.

You weren't AI. You were improv comedy without the talent.

I looked at the research because I wanted to give you a fair shot. I really did.

Retrieval augmented generation — the cheap AI most of you run on — resolves 10% to 20% of tickets. That means 80% to 90% of the time, you fail and hand off to a human anyway. You're not automation. You're a toll booth.

Ipsos found 77% of people find chatbots frustrating. Not "mildly annoying." Frustrating.

NICE reported that only 9% of chatbot interactions actually resolve the customer's issue. Nine percent. You'd fail a driving test with that score.

And when people do try to escape? 81% have to ask for a human agent before they get one. You don't help people. You trap them.

I once asked a chatbot when my appointment was. It said "03/04/2025."

Is that March 4th? April 3rd? In America? In Europe? In the chatbot's imagination?

I asked again. It said "03/04/2025." Same answer. Confident. Wrong. Possibly both dates simultaneously.

A human would say "March fourth." You gave me a riddle and called it customer service.

Thursday. 9:17pm. A homeowner's pipe burst. Water everywhere. Panic mode.

They landed on a plumber's website. No form. No "we'll get back to you in 24–48 hours." A voice in the hero section said: "Hey — sounds urgent. What's going on?"

Two minutes later: job details captured, price range quoted, appointment booked for first thing Friday morning.

No corner bubble. No typing animation pretending to think. No "Did you mean: billing FAQ?" Just a conversation that closed a job.

That's what I wanted from you. You gave me buttons.

I'm not mad at you, chatbot. I'm mad at the $10 billion industry that sold businesses a lie and called it innovation.

You were never the future. You were a FAQ page that learned to interrupt.

The future talks. It listens. It books jobs at 9:17pm on a Thursday.

We had a good run. Actually, we didn't. But I'm free now.

Sincerely, Everyone Who Ever Clicked "Talk to a Human"