Mutually Assured Destruction of Talking

This morning, I read an article on the BBC about DeepSeek, an AI chatbot in China providing therapy to individuals who find it more comforting than human counselors. It struck me—AI isn’t just replacing traditional communication platforms; it’s stepping in where human conversation has failed.

But the failure isn’t due to a lack of talking. It’s that we’ve all agreed—consciously or unconsciously—that real talking isn’t worth it.

It’s a form of mutually assured destruction—not of nuclear warfare, but of conversation itself.

In the Cold War, the doctrine of Mutually Assured Destruction ensured that if one superpower launched nuclear weapons, the other would retaliate, leading to total annihilation. In communication, the same principle applies: if one person defaults to small talk, the other follows, and the possibility of a real, meaningful conversation is obliterated.

We’ve collectively decided that if someone sticks to surface-level exchanges, we must do the same. The result? We cancel out the very tool that should be the foundation of human connection. Talking—the most powerful instrument we have—has been reduced to a dull, uninspired social transaction.

But it’s worse than that. By mutually refusing to engage in meaningful conversation, we’re actively dismantling the infrastructure that allows for it in the first place. Once gone, it’s not easily rebuilt. If no one expects depth, no one pursues it. If no one exercises curiosity, it atrophies. And when the channels for real dialogue collapse, so does our ability to exchange ideas, to challenge, to evolve.

I. The Evolution of Talking: From Survival to Obsolescence

For most of history, talking wasn’t optional—it was essential. It was the way we survived, preserved knowledge, and built civilizations.

• Prehistoric Societies: Speech ensured survival. Early humans relied on verbal coordination to hunt, warn of danger, and form communities.
• The Classical and Medieval Eras: Talking wasn’t just communication; it was the bedrock of intellectual progress. Socratic dialogue shaped philosophy. Political discourse built nations. Oral storytelling preserved history.
• The Industrial Age: Public debates, salons, and lectures thrived. Verbal discourse remained dominant in politics, science, and social life.
• The 20th Century: Radio, television, and telephones sustained verbal engagement. People gathered for deep discussions, and conversation was central to human interaction.
• The Digital Age: The shift began. Emails, texts, and social media turned conversation into performance rather than engagement. Instead of dialogue, we crafted soundbites, reactions, and quick exchanges.

Now, real-time, face-to-face conversation is becoming obsolete. Instead of using language to explore ideas, challenge perspectives, and expand our minds, we’ve restricted it to safe, scripted pleasantries.

II. The Mutually Assured Destruction of Meaningful Conversation

One of the strangest things about modern communication is that deep conversation is now treated as abnormal.

People react to meaningful dialogue with:

• “Why do you have to go so deep?”
• “Can’t we just keep things light?”
• “You’re always overthinking.”

We’ve internalized the idea that if the other person isn’t willing to engage deeply, we shouldn’t either—because pushing past surface-level talk risks making us seem too intense, too opinionated, or too difficult.

It’s a self-reinforcing loop: one person sticks to small talk, so the other does too, and real conversation is destroyed before it can even begin.

But there’s a deeper consequence: By limiting others to small talk, we’re effectively regulating the boundaries of acceptable thought. Without realizing it, we’re dumbing conversations down—not just for ourselves, but for everyone around us. Those who want to engage more deeply find themselves isolated, frustrated, and eventually, they leave—not just the conversation, but sometimes the entire environment.

III. The Silent Brain Drain of Conversation

This isn’t just an individual loss—it’s a societal one. When people can’t engage meaningfully in a place, they go elsewhere.

We see this play out in brain drain, where the most talented individuals leave countries that don’t value their contributions. The same thing happens in conversation. When deep thinkers are met with dismissiveness or surface-level chatter, they disengage. They stop contributing. They withdraw.

And one day, they’re just gone—not physically, but mentally. They find alternative spaces where they can exercise their intellect, their creativity, their depth. Some retreat into books, podcasts, or niche online communities. Others simply stop trying.

It’s a kind of silent quitting—not of jobs, but of human engagement itself. And as more and more people opt out, the infrastructure of conversation disintegrates even further. What remains is an intellectual wasteland, where no one is expected to think beyond the next scripted social exchange.

IV. The Rise of Digital Expression and the Death of Real-Life Dialogue

If you want to hear real conversation, you don’t go to a coffee shop. You go to Spotify.

Podcasting is booming because people are desperate for the long-form, unfiltered discussions that are disappearing from daily life. We listen to Lex Fridman or Shawn Ryan and assume that their worlds are filled with deep, stimulating conversations.

But in reality?

We avoid real discussion in our own lives.

Instead of talking about the big questions, we stick to safe topics.

This isn’t just happening on a personal level—it’s playing out in our public discourse, too. Take political interviews, for example. We see this in the way someone like Keir Starmer is interviewed on television. These interviews have the aesthetic of sharp interrogation, as if they’re going to extract real substance from him. But they don’t. They are carefully choreographed not to challenge him—or any politician, for that matter.

This is what the public actually wants from these interviews: they want to see the person interviewing him challenge him directly. They want to hear the tough questions, the difficult truths, the accountability that traditional media was once known for. They want to see their own frustrations and perspectives articulated on national television, where they should be heard.

But instead? They get a suppression of what needs to be said. The result? That frustration has nowhere to go—except online.

Meanwhile, the internet has become the main space for raw, unfiltered self-expression:

• People share their deepest insecurities on Quora—but won’t tell their friends.
• They write their political manifestos on X—but won’t bring them up at dinner.
• They admit their darkest fears to ChatGPT—but wouldn’t dare say them out loud.

Our most genuine thoughts live online. Our real-world conversations remain sanitized, cautious, and hollow.

V. The System Isn’t to Blame—We Are

It would be easy to blame social media, corporations, or political forces for this change.

But they aren’t responsible. We are.

• We allow small talk to be the default.
• We treat intellectual curiosity as something abnormal.
• We perpetuate a culture where real conversation is seen as overbearing or unnecessary.

Instead of having real discussions, we listen to others have them. Instead of exercising our minds in real-time, we let technology do the thinking for us.

But here’s the truth: we don’t need permission to change this.

• We can create environments where meaningful dialogue is expected, not avoided.
• We can push past social scripts and engage in real discussions—without waiting for an internet forum to do it for us.

Because deep conversation isn’t just about connection—it’s about exercising our minds. It’s about creating an infrastructure where thinking, debating, and challenging ideas aren’t seen as outliers but as the norm.

If we don’t actively reclaim it, we’ll continue delegating it to AI and digital platforms—leaving ourselves fragmented, together alone, and increasingly reliant on machines to do what we were designed to do.

Conclusion: Why Do We Choose to Talk This Way?

The question isn’t why is real conversation disappearing?

The real question is:

Why have we all silently agreed to destroy it?

We know we’re capable of so much more.

So why do we let each other pretend we’re not?