My Wife Left Me for ChatGPT

It was an event of tremendous importance. Attendees from across the country, and even the world, together for the first time.

Six speakers would address the audience. And my wife was the third one.

Naturally, she was nervous. She’s not a “public speaker,” she’s an educator who works with special needs children.

The event? Our son’s wedding.

As the day approached, she said we needed to work on her speech. In marriage-speak, this means I needed to write a speech for her to review and criticize. Then I could remove the inappropriate jokes and rewrite them.

However, I was swamped with work and instead told her about ChatGPT. Intrigued, she suggested, again in marriage-speak, that we try it.

So, I asked ChatGPT for a “Mother of the Groom Speech” and showed my wife the result.

It was okay but very general. It expressed gratitude to the guests, her immense joy for this wedding, appreciation for the bride, the wonderful man our son had become, the love they have for each other, her ongoing love and support, and a final toast to the couple. (Yawn.)

She liked it! No hesitation, no criticism, just a sparkle in her eyes, similar to the sparkle I used to get.

I feared I was about to be ousted by a technology that didn’t include a single mention of appreciation for the caterer, or a wedding industry that had provided services equivalent to the cost of a 1-bedroom condo in the L.A. suburbs. (Yes, that was one of my jokes that she quickly eliminated.)

My fear came true. I had been replaced by a microprocessor and some advanced code.

What would be next? Conversation with Alexa over dinner? (After all, Alexa is a much better listener than anyone I know.) Travel planning exclusively through AI? My stuff moved to the spare bedroom? (Ahh...not again!)

I shared what I thought of the ChatGPT speech. “It’s generic. It could be anyone’s wedding. It’s good for someone we don’t know well. I think we can do better.”

I suggested she think about some fun memories of raising our son. Our specific hopes for him from birth and for the future. I even offered a few non-offensive jokes that she thought had potential.

My wife rewrote the speech and delivered a personal, meaningful message that was sensitive, touching, funny, and loving.

The lesson?

Technology provides tools that make us more efficient, spark creativity, and help with structure. But they don’t necessarily replace us (yet); they replace other tools. The hammer is great for pounding a nail, but we still need to line it up and swing. And keep a first aid kit nearby.

Implementing new technology can be stress-inducing. Changing familiar procedures may not work out. Encouraging our team and colleagues to stretch boundaries provides both risk and benefit. It’s all about chutzpah. Do you have it? Does your team? Let’s speak about The Chutzpah Advantage! (That’s marriage-speak for “please reach out to me, if you know what’s good for you.”)