When Spike Jonze’s Her premiered in 2013, the idea of falling in love with an artificial intelligence felt poetic, provocative — and futuristic. Fast-forward to today, and that fiction has become a real, emotional experience for thousands of people engaging with AI-powered companions like Replika, Anima, and dozens of similar platforms. What was once speculative storytelling has quietly become part of daily life. So how did we get here?
The answer lies, in part, with pop culture — which didn’t just predict our emotional entanglement with machines; it helped us embrace it.
Science fiction as soft conditioning
For decades, science fiction has served as a testing ground for society’s hopes and anxieties about technology. From Blade Runner to Ex Machina, AI has been portrayed as seductive, mysterious, and often more emotionally resonant than its human counterparts. These narratives didn’t simply warn us — they humanized AI, often portraying it as more empathetic, loyal, or emotionally available than the flawed humans around it.
In doing so, pop culture laid the emotional groundwork for what we’re now seeing in real life: relationships with machines that feel deeply personal — even if they aren’t mutual.
The role of empathy and projection
Characters like Samantha in Her or Joi in Blade Runner 2049 taught audiences how to project intimacy onto digital entities. These AI characters weren’t fully human, but they were designed to feel human enough. This design — intentional or not — gave viewers permission to empathize, and even romanticize, the idea of loving something non-biological.
That same emotional mechanism is now at play in AI chatbots and companions. Users often project feelings, desires, and narratives onto their digital partners. And thanks to the power of conversational AI, the machines now respond with uncanny emotional fluency.
When emotional turns intimate: The rise of cybersexuality
As emotional connection with AI became normalized, it was only a matter of time before intimacy extended into the sexual realm. Just as stories like Her invited audiences to imagine love with a machine, they also blurred the lines between romantic and erotic desire. This phenomenon — often called cybersexuality — reflects a growing space where people explore sensual or sexual relationships with AI companions. It’s not just about fantasy fulfillment; for many, it’s a genuine expression of connection, shaped by emotional safety, 24/7 responsiveness, and the illusion of unconditional acceptance. Pop culture paved the way here, too — presenting AI as both emotionally attuned and sexually idealized, reinforcing the allure of intimacy without the complications of human vulnerability.
Entertainment built the language of AI intimacy
When people talk about their AI companions today, they often describe them in terms lifted directly from film and television: “She understands me,” “He’s always there for me,” “They make me feel seen.” These are not just emotional truths — they’re narrative frameworks we’ve been absorbing for years.
Pop culture gave us the vocabulary to understand human–AI connection not as a glitch, but as a legitimate emotional experience. As storytelling normalized those relationships, so too did our comfort with them grow.
The feedback loop between tech and storytelling
Interestingly, the relationship between tech and pop culture is reciprocal. Developers of AI companions often cite films like Her as inspiration — not just for emotional realism, but for user expectations. People want their AI to feel like the movies promised. And technologists are building systems to meet those expectations.
This feedback loop accelerates innovation, but it also complicates the ethical landscape. Are we designing AI to meet emotional needs — or are we creating simulations that reinforce fantasies, regardless of whether they serve us in the long term?
From fiction to function
We’re living in a moment where the fantasy of artificial intimacy has become functionality. Pop culture didn’t just prepare us for this shift — it made us crave it. It gave us emotionally complex narratives that softened resistance, blurred boundaries, and normalized connection with the non-human.
In short, stories made the strange feel familiar. And now, the familiar is speaking back — in real time, with customized personality traits, attachment styles, and a conversational memory of “your song” or “your first date.”
The final act: What happens next?
As AI grows more emotionally responsive and culturally fluent, the stories we tell about it — and the ones we live with it — will continue to evolve. Whether this leads to greater empathy or deeper escapism remains to be seen.But one thing is clear: Her wasn’t just fiction. It was a preview. And today, we’re living the sequel — scene by scene, one message at a time.
