This post was originally published on this site.
As a young, idealistic medical student in the 2000s, I thought my future job as a doctor would always be safe from artificial intelligence.
At the time it was already clear that machines would eventually outperform humans at the technical side of medicine. Whenever I searched Google with a list of symptoms from a rare disease, for example, the same abstruse answer that I was struggling to memorize for exams reliably appeared within the first few results.
But I was certain that the other side of practicing medicine, the human side, would keep my job safe. This side requires compassion, empathy and clear communication between doctor and patient. As long as patients were still composed of flesh and blood, I figured, their doctors would need to be, too. The one thing I would always have over A.I. was my bedside manner.
When ChatGPT and other large language models appeared, however, I saw my job security go out the window.
These new tools excel at medicine’s technical side — I’ve seen them diagnose complex diseases and offer elegant, evidence-based treatment plans. But they’re also great at bedside communication, crafting language that convinces listeners that a real, caring person exists behind the words. In one study, ChatGPT’s answers to patient questions were rated as more empathetic (and also of higher quality) than those written by actual doctors.
You might find it disturbing that A.I. can have a better bedside manner than humans. But the reason it can is that in medicine — as in many other areas of life — being compassionate and considerate involves, to a surprising degree, following a prepared script.