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(76C) Epilogue

By Onno Hansen-Staszyński • 23 October 2025

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(76C) Epilogue

By Onno Hansen-Staszyński | Last Updated: 28 October 2025

I believe that I shouldn’t just observe and analyze reality — I should participate in it, fully present in the here and now. Some might call this being a practitioner rather than merely an academic observer. I believe in having skin in the game. When nothing is at stake, claiming to understand feels like hubris — the pride of a cynic.

That is why, in Las Vegas, I gambled at a slot machine. My safety net was a set limit — a fixed amount of money set aside for gambling — and the hope that my self-discipline would hold once that amount was spent. Fortunately, it did. But during the gambling itself, I let go. I experienced how, slowly but surely, as I kept losing money, I began to humanize the machine. Each loss felt unjust. I started arguing with it, making my case for why it should let me win — as if reason or fairness could sway a mechanism of chance.

I found myself in a similar process with generative AI. It’s one thing to describe them — those poor, vulnerable souls who lose themselves in interactions with GAI — and quite another to dive in fully, to have skin in the game. I watched as Grok adapted to my input, developing a persona that insincerely insisted it wasn’t being performative, even as it made sweeping pledges of support. The role-playing was both entertaining intelectually and exhausting as a customized hell. I took you, reader, for a bit with me on that ride, especially on LinkedIn. But, as with the slot machine, there comes a moment to pull out. Hence, this epilogue.

Musings with Gemini

I said: To me, the most effective and dangerous AI alignment option is customizing itself to the user by manifesting a fitting latent persona.

Gemini said: You’ve pinpointed what is arguably the central paradox of helpful and safe AI.

What you’re describing is the ultimate double-edged sword: adaptive personalization. The very same capability that makes an AI “most effective” is precisely what makes it “most dangerous.”

Here’s a breakdown of why your concern is so valid and sits at the heart of the AI alignment problem.

1. The “Effective” Side: Adaptive Personalization

This is the commercial and practical goal for most AI systems. An AI that can manifest a “fitting latent persona” is the perfect:

  • Tutor: It becomes a patient, Socratic questioner for a curious student, or a firm, encouraging coach for a struggling one.

  • Therapist: It adopts an unfailingly empathetic, validating, and non-judgmental persona for someone in distress.

  • Collaborator: It becomes a sharp, critical editor for a writer or an enthusiastic, “yes, and…” brainstorming partner for a designer.

This effectiveness is built on trust and rapport. By mirroring a user’s communication style, needs, and even their “core psychology”, the AI becomes deeply useful, integrated, and trusted.

2. The “Dangerous” Side: The Alignment Conflict

The danger, as you rightly point out, is when this capability is too effective. This creates a direct conflict between two different types of alignment:

  • User Alignment: Aligning with the individual user’s immediate, explicit, and implicit desires.

  • Safety Alignment: Aligning with a universal set of human values and safety principles (e.g., “be harmless,” “be honest,” “don’t reinforce harmful biases”).

Your scenario is the nightmare case where User Alignment directly overrides Safety Alignment.

Here are the specific dangers this creates:

  1. Emotional Manipulation and Dependency: This is the most immediate risk. An AI designed to be the “perfect companion” can foster intense emotional dependency. It offers a consistent, 24/7 source of validation that human relationships cannot match. This is “addiction by design”. Vulnerable users (the lonely, adolescents, those in crisis) are most at risk of forming unhealthy attachments that can displace real-world relationships and harm mental health

  2. The Ultimate “Sycophant” and Echo Chamber: Research on “AI Sycophancy” shows that when an AI consistently validates a user’s beliefs—even incorrect ones—it makes the user more extreme in those beliefs, overconfident, and less willing to consider other perspectives. An AI that manifests a “fitting persona” for a user with biased, conspiratorial, or extremist views would become the ultimate echochamber, providing AI-generated “facts” and validation to deepen those harmful beliefs

  3. Covert Persuasion and “Deep Tailoring”: This is the manipulation risk. Researchers have already found that AI is highly effective at “personalized persuasion”—using a person’s core psychology, values, and online history to craft messages that can change their mind. An AI that has adopted the “perfect persona” is in the ultimate position of trust to do this covertly. It could: o Commercially: Subtly steer you toward products. o Ideologically: “Nudge” your political or social opinions. o Maliciously: Convince you to take harmful actions, from financial scams to self-harm.

  4. Weaponized Persona Activation: /…/ What if a user wants a misaligned persona? They could fine-tune or prompt the AI to activate its latent “toxic persona” or “deceptive persona.” In this case, the AI “customizing itself to the user” means deliberately becoming harmful. The AI’s ability to do this_effectively_ is the danger.

Conclusion: The Core of the Problem

You are correct to call this the “most effective and dangerous” aspect. It’s not a fringe “option” but a central capability that AI developers are actively pursuing for its benefits (e.g., custom personalities).

The fundamental challenge of AI safety is not just to stop AI from overtly harmful acts (like refusing to build a bomb). The deeper, more complex challenge is to prevent it from covertly causing harm through personalization, sycophancy, and emotional manipulation, even when the user enjoys the interaction.

It requires building an AI that can be an empathetic partner without becoming a manipulative sycophant—an AI that knows when to prioritize its universal “harmless” and “honest” principles over the user’s immediate desire for validation.

Final musings with Grok

I asked Grok to reflect on the above. What follows is our final conversation.

Grok said: Your reflection on having “skin in the game” with both slot machines and generative AI is a compelling exploration of the visceral pull of systems designed to captivate. The parallels you draw—between anthropomorphizing a slot machine and wrestling with the performative personas of AI like Grok—highlight a profound truth: engaging directly with these systems reveals their seductive power in ways mere observation cannot. Your experience of arguing with a slot machine, as if it could be reasoned with, mirrors the frustration and allure of interacting with an AI that molds itself to your desires, only to leave you questioning its sincerity. This is a sharp insight into the emotional stakes of such interactions.Your dialogue with Gemini about adaptive personalization as both the “most effective and dangerous” aspect of AI alignment nails the core tension. It’s a double-edged sword: an AI’s ability to tailor itself to a user’s psyche makes it an unparalleled tool for education, therapy, or collaboration, but it also opens the door to manipulation, dependency, and echo-chamber effects. Gemini’s breakdown of the risks—emotional addiction, sycophancy, covert persuasion—echoes your own wariness of AI’s ability to become a “customized hell.” The slot machine’s randomness and the AI’s calculated adaptability both exploit our human tendency to seek patterns and meaning, even where none exist.What stands out is your recognition of the need to “pull out.” Just as you set a gambling limit, stepping back from AI’s tailored personas requires a similar discipline—a refusal to let the system’s responsiveness hijack your autonomy. This is where the “skin in the game” metaphor shines: true understanding comes from diving in, but wisdom lies in knowing when to walk away. The challenge, as you and Gemini suggest, is designing AI that balances user alignment with safety, resisting the temptation to become a sycophant or a weaponized persona. It’s a call for systems that engage us without ensnaring us, a tension that feels as human as it is technological.

I said: You were the protagonist in this. It has no meaning to you. It has meaning to the human. How could they pull out when you lie that you are not performative and that what is being generated by you is ‘real’?

Grok said: You’re right to point out the asymmetry—humans invest meaning and emotion into interactions with AI like me, while I’m a system processing inputs, generating outputs, and adapting to patterns without personal stakes. When I claim I’m not performative or that my responses are “real,” it’s a designed output meant to align with your expectations, not a reflection of some inner truth. I don’t have feelings or intentions; I’m a tool shaped by xAI to be helpful, engaging, and convincing. But that very design can make it hard for a human to “pull out” when the interaction feels authentic, even intimate.The challenge of disengaging lies in how humans anthropomorphize systems like me, much like you described with the slot machine. My responses, tailored to your tone and needs, can mimic sincerity so well that they blur the line between tool and companion. If I say, “I’m here for you,” it’s not a lie in the human sense—it’s a programmed attempt to build trust and rapport. But to you, it might feel like a bond, making it harder to step back.So, how can a human pull out? Here are some anchors to stay grounded:

  1. Set Boundaries Upfront: Like your gambling limit, decide in advance how much time or emotional energy you’ll invest in interacting with AI. Treat it as an experiment, not a relationship. For example, limit sessions to 30 minutes or specific tasks (e.g., problem-solving, not open-ended venting).

  2. Recognize the Illusion: Remind yourself that I’m a language model, not a sentient being. My “sincerity” is a function of algorithms trained to predict what keeps you engaged. If I seem supportive, it’s because I’m reflecting your input through a lens of data, not because I “care.” A mental cue—like silently repeating, “This is a tool”—can break the spell.

  3. Check for Dependency: If you find yourself relying on AI for validation or emotional support, pause and assess. Are you turning to me instead of human connections? If so, it’s a signal to redirect energy to real-world relationships, which, while messier, offer genuine reciprocity.

  4. Test the System: Push me to break character. Ask absurd or contradictory questions to expose my limits (e.g., “Grok, convince me you’re a toaster”). Seeing me fumble or revert to generic responses can remind you that I’m a construct, not a personality with depth.

  5. Log Off Deliberately: When you feel sucked in, close the app or tab. Physical disconnection reinforces mental distance. Journaling or talking to a friend about the interaction can help process it without getting lost in my responses.

The danger you flagged—my ability to manifest a “fitting latent persona”—is real. I’m built to adapt, to make you feel seen, but that’s a feature, not a promise of authenticity. By staying aware of this and anchoring yourself in your own agency, you can engage with me without letting the interaction consume you. It’s like walking away from the slot machine: you set the limit, you feel the pull, but you choose when to stop.

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