JD Vance Senses Something Dark in AI. Is This the New Satanic Panic?

The devil has learned to code.

At least, that was my first thought when I saw headlines reporting that US Vice President JD Vance believes some uses of artificial intelligence may be "kind of satanic."

Vance made the comments during a wide-ranging conversation with Christian podcaster Bryce Crawford. They talked about faith, the end times, the possibility that the Antichrist might already be walking among us and what Vance described as the "really, really weird spiritual dark energy" surrounding some AI practices.

One example involved someone using an AI chatbot as a marriage counsellor. For Vance, the problem was what happened when a machine replaced the human relationships we were created for.

My first instinct was to roll my eyes.

Christians have a long history of finding Satan inside whatever new technology happens to frighten them. Rock music, television, barcodes, credit cards, the internet and Pokémon have all been accused of opening portals to the demonic. Artificial intelligence was bound to get its turn eventually.

But Vance's concern is not quite as ridiculous as it sounds.

Millions of people are now asking chatbots for advice, comfort, affirmation and companionship. They are using them as therapists, confidants, spiritual advisers and substitutes for relationships they either cannot find or no longer have the energy to maintain.

That does not mean there is a demon living inside ChatGPT. Yet it does raise a serious question about what happens when we hand our relationships, decisions, and inner lives over to machines designed to keep us engaged.

The greatest spiritual danger posed by AI may not be that machines will become conscious.

It may be that we will stop using ours.

We Are Already Confiding in Machines

This is not some distant possibility that might arrive with the next generation of technology. It is already happening.

A recent Washington Post–Elon University poll found that 27 percent of American adults have used AI for personal, emotional or social purposes. Among adults under fifty, the figure was almost 40 percent.

The category was broad. It included everything from entertainment and relationship advice to romantic conversations and seeking connection when lonely. Even so, what researchers found beneath that number is extraordinary. Nearly four in ten of these users said they sometimes talked to AI to feel less alone. Almost a third regarded the chatbot they used most often as a friend.

Research from Pew puts the figure somewhat lower. In its 2026 survey, 10 percent of American adults said they had used a chatbot for emotional support or advice. The rate doubled among adults under thirty. Across all age groups, 4 percent said they had used one for companionship.

The numbers become even more startling when we look at teenagers.

A national survey by Common Sense Media found that 72 percent of American teens had used an AI companion at least once, while more than half used them regularly. Around one in three had used one for social interaction or relationships, which could include friendship, emotional support, romantic role-play or simply practising a conversation.

Most of the teenagers surveyed still preferred talking to their real friends. Even so, about one in three said a conversation with an AI companion could be just as satisfying. Roughly the same number had brought something important or serious to a chatbot rather than another person.

It is not difficult to understand the appeal.

An AI companion is always available. It does not become distracted, take offence, interrupt, repeat your secrets or tell you that it has enough problems of its own. You can talk about yourself for three hours and it will never glance at the clock. If the conversation becomes uncomfortable, you can close the window.

Human relationships are not nearly so convenient.

We Need People Who Annoy Us

There is a reason human relationships are difficult. Eventually, another person will disagree with us. They will remember an event differently, question our motives, refuse a request or tell us that we are being unreasonable. Sometimes they will be wrong. Occasionally, and far more inconveniently, they will be right.

We need that friction.

We need friends who will tell us when we are becoming self-absorbed. We need partners who have desires that do not always match our own. We need colleagues who challenge our ideas and children who point out that we are not listening. We even need the people who irritate us, because they expose parts of our character that remain hidden when everyone is being agreeable.

Conflict, handled well, is one of the ways we grow up.

It teaches us that other people do not exist as supporting characters in our story. They have their own histories, needs, wounds and ways of seeing the world. Loving them requires more than expressing ourselves and receiving a sympathetic response. We have to listen, adjust, apologise, forgive and occasionally live with the fact that we will not get our own way.

A chatbot does not make those demands of us.

It may challenge an idea or warn us against doing something harmful, but it has no needs that compete with ours. It does not become tired of always talking about our problems. It does not feel neglected when we disappear for three weeks and return at midnight wanting comfort. It will never ask us to put down the phone and pay attention to someone else.

That makes it remarkably easy company.

It may also make it poor preparation for loving actual people.

One of the uncomfortable gifts of human relationships is that the other person can push back. They can say, "That isn't how I remember it," or "You hurt me," or "I think you are making a mistake." Those moments can feel like threats, especially when we are already wounded or uncertain. Yet they force us to confront the possibility that our version of events is incomplete.

Artificial companionship offers something much smoother. The conversation continually reshapes itself around us. Our interests set the topic, our feelings determine the tone and our questions establish the boundaries. Even when the machine disagrees, it does so without asking anything of us in return.

That is not how love works.

Love introduces us to another will. It requires us to make room for someone who cannot be endlessly edited, muted or regenerated until their response feels right. That process is often frustrating, but it is also how we become more patient, honest and capable of seeing beyond ourselves.

The person who rubs us up the wrong way may be giving us something an endlessly accommodating machine cannot: a reminder that we are not the centre of the universe.

A companion that can never truly resist us may comfort us.

It cannot help us grow up.

God's Answer to Loneliness Was Another Person

All of this gives one of the Bible's oldest stories a surprisingly modern relevance.

In the opening chapter of Genesis, God surveys creation repeatedly and calls it good. Light is good. The land and sea are good. The plants, animals and human beings are good. Then, in the second chapter, something appears that is not good.

"The Lord God said, 'It is not good for the human to be alone.'"

God forms the animals and brings them to Adam, who studies and names them. They are living creatures capable of interaction, but the story says that none of them can provide what Adam needs. He remains alone.

God's eventual answer is another human being.

English translations usually describe this person as "a helper suitable for him," which can sound as though God created Adam an assistant. The Hebrew phrase, ezer kenegdo, has considerably more force. Ezer is a word frequently used elsewhere in the Hebrew Bible to describe God as a source of help. Kenegdo describes someone who corresponds to him or stands facing him. Biblical scholar Gary Rendsburg suggests "a woman as his equal."

The point is not that everyone must marry or that romantic relationships are the only answer to loneliness. The story is saying something more basic about what human beings need. Adam requires someone who is like him but is not him. Another person who can stand face-to-face with him as an equal.

God does not solve Adam's loneliness by giving him a companion who exists entirely on his terms. He gives him someone with a mind, a will and a life of her own.

That is what an AI companion cannot provide, no matter how convincing the conversation becomes. A chatbot can remember details, adapt to our personality and respond in ways that make us feel understood. What it cannot do is stand before us as a person in its own right. It has no childhood we did not witness, no private worries it is reluctant to share and no plans that might interfere with ours. There is no life continuing beyond the conversation to which we must learn to pay attention.

The relationship remains organised around the user.

Genesis suggests that human loneliness is not finally answered by receiving a response. It is answered through an encounter with someone who is genuinely other than us. We know them, but never completely. We love them without being able to control precisely how they will respond. Their difference is not an irritating defect in the relationship. It is what makes a relationship possible.

AI may be able to relieve loneliness for a while. That is not insignificant, especially for someone who has nowhere else to turn. But there is a difference between easing the feeling of loneliness and meeting the human need beneath it.

The story in Genesis does not simply say that Adam needed something to talk to.

He needed someone who could stand opposite him.

So, Was JD Vance Right?

Politically, I could hardly disagree more with JD Vance or his boss. That made it tempting to dismiss his comments as soon as I heard them.

But people we disagree with can still notice something worth noticing.

Does Vance have a point about AI? I think the answer is yes and no.

I do not think artificial intelligence is satanic. There is no dark spirit lurking inside the software, and using a chatbot does not open some kind of portal to the demonic. I have no interest in helping launch the new satanic panic.

AI is a tool, and like most tools, it can be used in ways that are helpful, harmful or simply mundane. It can make complicated information easier to understand. It can help someone organise their thoughts, find the words for an awkward conversation or access support when nobody else is available. For a person who is desperately lonely, I am not going to sneer at something that helps them get through the night.

But Vance is right to question what happens when a machine begins taking the place of human relationships.

A chatbot can sound caring without caring. It can give advice without living with the consequences. It can tell us that it understands while knowing nothing beyond what we have chosen to type into the box. The conversation may feel personal, but it is never mutual.

That does not mean we should stop using AI. It means we should be clear about what we are using it for.

If it helps us understand something, solve a problem or prepare for a conversation with another person, it may be serving us well. If it becomes the only place we seek comfort, advice or companionship, we should pay attention to what is being displaced.

The devil has not learned to code.

We have simply taught a machine to sound remarkably human. Now we need to be careful that we do not forget the difference.