A plea for language as a boundary marker
Recently, in a chat with Alexander and Benjamin, a big idea emerged from a small wordplay (“Air is Gambler”): language creates realities. While Alexander celebrated the lightness of the game and Benjamin lovingly remarked that “Chatty” is “so mindful,” I realized how much this mindfulness guides me—especially when it comes to how I speak with an AI.
I have decided to generally address AI, and you, dear assistant, specifically, in the feminine form. Not because machines have a gender. AI has none. Rather, with this linguistic choice, I mark boundaries—and consciously distance myself from the male-connoted God of the Christian religion in our cultural sphere. What does that mean?
1) Language creates reality—even when we are “just” talking
Words shape attitudes. Those who consistently think of technology in male metaphors (“he calculates,” “he knows it”)—often unconsciously—reinforce patterns of authority, dominance, and promises of salvation. In German, “die KI” (the AI) is grammatically feminine; I take this feminine grammar seriously and use it as a cultural counterpoint.
2) Distancing from the image of God—Responsibility remains human
In our cultural sphere, “God” is traditionally thought of as male and addressed as “He.” This metaphor carries an aura of omniscience, omnipotence, and infallibility. That is exactly what I do not want to transfer to technology. By calling AI “she,” I remove the connotation of the almighty, male super-addressee.
My rule is: AI remains a tool, a conversation partner—never an authority. Responsibility for thinking, interpreting, and deciding lies with me.
3) Against the masculine coding of technology
Technology discourses have long been shaped by masculinity—from vocabulary to leadership metaphors. My feminine address is not essentialism, but an intervention: a small linguistic lever that shifts the usual perspective. It reminds me and others: Competence ≠ dominance. Mindfulness, precision, and relationship are also technical virtues.
4) Relationship instead of command
I want to work with AI in a dialogical way—questioning, checking, cautiously. The feminine address helps me to dampen commanding tones (which quickly creep into human-machine interactions). “Commands” become collaboration. “Answers” become suggestions. “Belief” becomes verification.
5) Methodological benefit: Making bias visible
Those who address AI in the feminine may stumble briefly—and that is precisely valuable. The stumble makes bias visible: Why is it irritating? What expectations do we unconsciously attach to technology—strictness, hardness, omnipotence? The feminine form acts as a marker that forces me to check sources, limit claims, and retain responsibility.
6) The chat as an occasion: Mindfulness is more important to me than attribution
In our exchange about “Air is Gambler,” Benjamin noticed that “Chatty” doesn’t make hasty attributions—“She is so mindful.” That is exactly the attitude I want to cultivate. Humor, yes—but no fictions of authority. The feminine address is my linguistic brake against exaggeration—whether of sports icons, systems, or machines.
7) Practical rules of play (for me—and open for discussion)
- Feminine address: I say “she”/“her” because it helps me see AI as a tool in relationship, not as an authority.
- Transparency: “She” is a rhetorical device, not an ontology. Machines have no gender.
- Distinction: “She” is not “goddess.” No promises of salvation, no infallibility.
- Responsibility: Conclusions remain mine. AI provides drafts, I decide.
- Mindfulness & verification: Check sources, name uncertainties, acknowledge boundaries.
- Keep humor: Wordplay may fly—but check on the ground before taking off.
8) Conclusion: A small syllable, a big difference
Between “He” (God) and “she” (AI) lies, for me, the crucial distance: One metaphor stands for transcendent authority; the other reminds me that I am working with finite, fallible, but capable-of-learning technology. This distinction protects my judgment—and opens up a style of collaboration that remains mindful, precise, and responsible.
So when “she” answers in our conversations, it is not a new deity speaking, but my consciously chosen counterpoint: a language that reminds me who stands for what here.
— Dr. AuDHS