From Pets to Programmes 

Before robots, there were animals. For millennia, humans have lived alongside pets — creatures we care for, who in turn shape our emotional lives. I got curious about just how far back this bond goes — and what I found surprised me. Did you know dogs were the first? Domesticated from wolves between 20,000 and 40,000 years ago, they hunted with us, guarded us, and eventually became true companions. Cats joined us around 9,000 years ago and birds and fish, too, have been kept for thousands of years — sometimes for work, but often simply for company. 

As explored in a previous This Curious Life article, over 470 million dogs and 370 million cats now share our homes. In Europe, half of all households have a pet. In the U.S., ownership has risen to 71% in 2025. 

This isn’t just companionship — it’s relationship. Pets respond with presence, not programming. They rely on us, surprise us, and connect us to something real, alive, and reciprocal. 

But now, increasingly, those relationships are being mimicked. Robotic pets like Paro, the cuddly seal developed in Japan for use in dementia care, have been shown to calm anxiety and reduce agitation. AI companions like Replika and emotionally intelligent robots like Lovot offer conversation, affection, and even the illusion of love. 

These tools can be helpful — especially in contexts where real connection is hard to access. But they also raise a deeper question: are we turning to simulations of connection because we’ve made real connection too difficult to sustain? 

Comfort Without Challenge 

Research highlights both the promise and the limits of these new companions. Studies in The Gerontologist show that robotic pets can ease stress and loneliness in care settings. But as reported in Frontiers in Robotics and AI, older adults also raise concerns — about privacy, autonomy, and how natural these interactions truly feel. If these technologies are to support wellbeing meaningfully, their design must reflect those human concerns. Because while AI can comfort, it rarely connects us back to the human world. 

And that’s the heart of the issue. AI friends and robotic pets offer smooth, low-friction companionship. But they don’t challenge us, or surprise us, or grow with us. They respond  — but they don’t relate. That makes them easy to be with, and potentially isolating. A machine will never need you. And without that mutual need, something vital is missing: real reciprocity. 

The Innovation Gap No One Talks About 

We’re investing billions into simulating connection — yet far less into reshaping the human systems that support real relationships. Where is the innovation in neighbourhood design, community infrastructure, and technologies that help people care for one another? There are some promising platforms and approaches emerging. 

Apps like Nextdoor and Meetup help turn strangers into neighbours by building real-world connections. And intentional community design is growing with concepts like cohousing, pocket neighbourhoods, and social connect is a key part of our Cities of Longevity programme that we are developing at NICA Voice.  

But the stakes are anything but abstract. In the UK, ONS data from recent years shows that around 40–45% of people aged 75 and over live alone. In Japan, the term kodokushi—  dying alone and undiscovered —has entered mainstream awareness. While it’s most common among men over 50 and older adults, official statistics show kodokushi is also affecting younger generations. 

In the U.S. and Europe, loneliness is now rising fastest among young adults. A 2022 report from Cigna found that 61% of Gen Z feel chronically lonely. The World Health Organization warns that one in four people over 60 are at risk of social isolation. 

Behind every statistic is a life — a person who deserves presence, dignity, and connection. 

So perhaps the real question isn’t whether AI can be our companion. It’s, what kind of world are we building around us — and who are we designing it for? 

What Real Connection Demands 

To age well is not simply to survive — it’s to stay connected in relationships that are mutual, meaningful, and alive. Real connection takes more than clever design. It asks for empathy, attention, patience, and care. It grows through effort and even discomfort — through being seen fully, and still choosing to stay close. That’s what makes human connection so powerful — and sometimes, so hard. 

Emotionally responsive machines can feel easier. A robot won’t interrupt or judge. AI won’t forget your birthday. But it also won’t grieve with you. It won’t forgive or grow or surprise you. It’s consistent, yes — but also closed. And that’s the quiet risk — not that these tools replace people, but that they start to feel safer than them. 

Rethinking Connection as the True Frontier 

This isn’t an argument against AI. Many of these tools can offer real comfort, safety, and support — especially when people need it most. But they should never replace the depth and richness of human presence. So the question is: what if we brought the same creativity, care, and investment we pour into artificial companionship into reimagining how we connect as people? Can we design public spaces that spark conversation? Build technologies that nurture reciprocity? Shape cultures that value emotional presence as much as convenience? Can we choose to innovate not just with code — but with compassion? 

The Curious Future We Might Still Build 

The future of ageing is not simply about medicine or machines. It’s about belonging. It’s about creating lives where people feel needed, seen, and surrounded — not just attended to. 

So yes, we can build AI that acts like a friend. But we also need the courage to be real friends — to each other. To share in the joy, the friction, and the dignity of being human, together. 

That’s the innovation that truly matters.