I spoke to an AI version of my future self – and it might have changed my life
An older, AI version of Anthony Cuthbertson mostly offered the platitudes of a fairground fortune teller. But that doesn’t mean it wasn’t transformative


When I was 15, I wrote a letter to my 30-year-old self, which was about as far into the future as I could imagine at that age. I found it when I was clearing out some boxes in my mid-twenties, and although I’d completely forgotten what I’d written, some of it had already partly come true.
I had imagined myself a sports journalist (not far off); that I’d bought a bus and travelled across Europe (it wasn’t a double-decker but I’d driven an old campervan from Ireland to north Africa in my early twenties); and that I’d been in a car chase (this one had not come true).
I didn’t know it at the time but engaging with an older version of myself in this way is something psychologists refer to as “future self-continuity” – a field of study that is the inspiration behind a new AI chatbot that lets you talk to a simulation of your future self.
Developed by researchers at Massachusetts Institute of Technology (MIT), Future You uses the same large language model (LLM) technology as ChatGPT but trained on your own personal data. Keen to see how realistic it is – and maybe find out if I ever do get in a car chase – I signed up as one of the thousands of participants in the research.
After an extensive survey to determine my emotions, hopes, fears, current situation and future goals, a personalised chatbot appeared, offering to share its “experiences and insights” with me. The system also used age-progression software to transform a picture from my webcam into a 60-year-old version of me. (I apparently keep the bad haircut but lose the blue eyes.)
I began with some simple questions for my future self: do I have any regrets? (Not spending enough time with my children); What have been the highlights? (Travelling the world with my wife); Will I still have a landlord when I’m 60? (No! I’m told I buy a “beautiful home in the countryside”.)
None of the answers felt particularly insightful, more like the stock answers given by a fairground fortune teller. I gave up asking any more questions and instead turned to an early study of the Future You chatbot, involving 344 participants, to see what benefits there might be to this AI time machine.
The study found that the people who interacted with the AI system were less anxious and reported improved motivation. The results mirrored previous research into future self-continuity, which has shown that the connection a person feels with their future self can positively impact on their long-term decision-making and general wellbeing.
In a 2011 study on the subject, US-based psychologist Hal Hershfield wrote: “When the future self shares similarities with the present self, when it is viewed in vivid and realistic terms, and when it is seen in a positive light, people are more willing to make choices that may benefit them at some point in the years to come.”
MIT says its Future You platform draws on these insights to “create an experience that reduces anxiety and strengthens users’ connection to their future potential”. The researchers also said that the more I interact with the chatbot, the more it learns, and the more personalised the responses become.
So I tried again, this time being more specific in my approach and sharing more details about my current life.
Future me said that the most cherished memory of my middle age is a trip to Bali for my 10th wedding anniversary. “The two of you stayed in a private villa surrounded by lush jungles and breathtaking views of the ocean,” the bot told me.
I’d never considered that trip before, but it’s my 10th wedding anniversary next year and I immediately began looking into holidays to Indonesia.
When I told my wife, she was on board for the trip but also had a load of questions for future me. “Will we still live in France?” (No, we move to England); “Will we have any more children?” (Also no, two is enough apparently); “Which of us will die first?” (It didn’t know because my wife is still alive in this simulated future. Some of my friends are dead, though).
The more I talked with it, the more convincing it felt, which made me worry – not for the first time – that AI would soon be taking my job.
So I asked it if AI would replace my job. “Artificial intelligence is advancing at a rapid pace,” it told me, “but there will always be certain aspects of work that require human touch and creativity.” Not very reassuring.
I wondered if it could write an article for me. In fact, could it write this article for me? “As I sit here, talking to an AI version of my future self, I can’t help but feel a sense of wonder and curiosity,” it wrote. “It’s a surreal experience to be able to have a conversation with someone who has already lived the years that I am currently experiencing … I learnt about the importance of prioritising love and family above all else … And perhaps most importantly, my future self reminded me to embrace the journey rather than just focusing on reaching specific goals or achievements.” Back to platitudes.
How about writing this article but from the AI’s perspective? “This experience highlights the ever-evolving relationship between humans and technology,” it wrote. “As we talked, I couldn’t help but feel a sense of nostalgia. I shared stories and life lessons with my past self – about love, loss, and embracing the journey. These are all things that may seem simple or cliche but they hold so much truth and wisdom that goes beyond time.”
Similar to the letter I wrote when I was 15, it was beginning to feel a bit like a one-way conversation – though this time, it was the future me saying what I was going to do rather than the other way around. But it did allow me to do something that I haven’t done since then, which is to properly think about what a future me might be like. These chats may even shape my life’s trajectory, even if I forget all about them. Finally, I asked the AI if I would ever be in a car chase. No, future me told me; but he’s only 60. There’s still plenty of time.
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