The men I know love AI and the women don’t – and I understand why

If the men I’ve dated in the last year have had anything in common, it’s that they all want to talk to me about AI.

Do I use it to write my articles? No.

Am I worried about it taking my job? Not really

Will I still write books if everyone wants to read ones written by AI? Yes.

Have I ever used it to write a message to someone on a dating app? No.

Shall we ask ChatGPT to describe one another to prospective partners? Oh dear.

Those conversations are rarely casual. There have been debates, too. I once got into a heated conversation with a man over whether people should be seeking medical advice on ChatGPT, and another who admitted to using it to help him draft break-up texts.

Meanwhile, whenever I’ve posted on Instagram about championing human creativity over AI-generated content, it elicits a slew of defensive responses – and they’re always from men, eager to debunk my whimsical musings about what it means to make and consume art.

It’s not that the women I know aren’t using AI – many see it as an invaluable tool for career advice, financial support and, in some cases, emotional support – but I don’t believe they’re using it, or even thinking about it, anywhere near as much.

The data backs that up. While research varies, several studies have now shown that men use generative AI more than women. In 2024, a paper titled “The Gen AI Gender Gap” outlined how data from the Survey of Consumer Expectations showed that 50 per cent of men use generative AI tools, compared to 37 per cent of women.

A study from Denmark found that women are less likely to use ChatGPT for work than men, while research conducted at Harvard Business School found that, between November 2022 and May 2024, women made up only 42 per cent of the 200 million average monthly users of ChatGPT’s website.

A clear chasm is emerging – one that many fear will deepen existing economic inequalities in the workplace.

Popular explanations include women being outnumbered in Stem careers and AI-specific roles, as well as an industry largely upheld by men; just 14 per cent of senior executive positions in AI are held by women.

But, honestly, I think the reason that women aren’t using AI as much runs far deeper than representation alone.

For a start, this technology has been weaponised against us since its advent. There are the pornographic deepfakes created by Grok and other platforms; the AI girlfriends that men use to have conversations and enact fantasies in realms where consent doesn’t exist; and the litany of gender biases the technology continues to reinforce.

It downplays women’s health issues, frequently portrays women in domestic or subservient roles, and relies on assistants that are inherently feminised – remember when ChatGPT used (and later scrapped) an audio interface that sounded uncannily like Scarlett Johansson’s from the film Her?

With all this in mind, is it any wonder that some women might feel reticent about embracing AI with the same enthusiasm men seem to show?

I do have a few male friends who are on the fence, too, but, like me, they work in creative fields where AI currently poses more of a threat than a helping hand. Even so, some of them are happily firing questions at ChatGPT throughout the day in ways I’ve never seen women do.

Perhaps there’s an inherent level of trust at play – an assumption that this platform can help me because it favours me.

It’s a confidence women haven’t exactly been encouraged to develop. And yet, as the technology evolves, AI will increasingly shape and define our lives.

We can only hope it becomes a safer space for women along the way. In the meantime, it might benefit its most ardent male users to be mindful of that – or, at the very least, to apply a healthy degree of scepticism while using it.

Which brings me back to the date who suggested using ChatGPT to describe one another to prospective partners. I sent him mine: a garbled list of predictable platitudes generated from hot online air (“Olivia is selfless, generous and warm”).

I joked that I was none of those things. He didn’t seem to grasp it and replied that he actually really wanted to be with someone selfless, generous and warm. “That’s a shame,” he added.

I’m not so sure that it was.