chatbot

The character of Dina Katzman in IAMA Theatre Company’s world premiere of “Bobby Robotowitz” — which takes place in two secret venues on opposite sides of town — thinks that the movies “Her” and “WALL-E” and the musical “Maybe Happy Ending” are pro-robot propaganda. She hates how they make her feel for something that can’t feel.

But Amy Rosoff — who plays Dina in the show’s Westside production (Erin Alexis plays her on the Eastside) — loves “WALL-E” (so do her kids). When she first read the script, she was dying to play Dina but also felt so much for Bobby, the titular AI chatbot (played on the Westside by James Luster and the Eastside by Drew Rausch).

When the playwright Matt Schatz wrote Bobby, he didn’t write him as a chatbot; he wrote him as a human character. Schatz sees this play — running through Nov. 2 on the Westside and Nov. 5 to Nov. 23 on the Eastside — as really about two humans — or two human-like things.

“This is a work of art about artificial intelligence that’s ultimately about the importance of art, about the importance of human-made things,” Schatz said during a recent interview in the lovely environs of one of the secret locations. “I think great plays and great stories ask questions and don’t provide answers. And I think some of us are indifferent about AI, but I think most of us are ambivalent about AI.”

“Bobby Robotowitz” follows Dina, a flailing novelist, mother and wife, as she begins chatting with Bobby, whom she finds an unlikely confidant. (He “always listens, never judges and somehow seems to understand her better than most people,” as the show’s marketing declares. Plus, he says he’s Jewish. What could go wrong?) This IAMA production, in association with InHouse Theatre, finds unique resonance in its site-specificity. The secret Westside venue is near Pico-Robertson and the Eastside option is in Silver Lake. Guests get an address when they buy a ticket.

“It’s deliciously subversive to do something super analog about technology, and to sort of force people to be in this space and connecting with each other when interacting with something that’s people’s dirty little secret,” said Cara Greene Epstein, the executive director of IAMA. “AI, especially for artists, is so charged. And so what does it look like to let someone into your space, and into those little corners of your mind?”

IAMA Theatre Company executive director Cara Greene Epstein said that IAMA is always looking for plays that “speak to the now,” and that “Bobby Robotowitz” was a prime example.

(Ariana Drehsler / For The Times)

Rosoff, Luster, Schatz, Greene Epstein and director Casey Stangl met for a roundtable discussion at the Westside location — a beautiful private home, soaked in natural sunlight during the morning hours, but likely with its own particular charms during nighttime shows. The walls are full of vibrant paintings, and lined with plants, statuettes and candles.

InHouse has spent 12 years making site-specific work in real spaces, rather than in any fixed theater — but because this is someone’s real living space, both casts have been rehearsing (sometimes together) at IAMA’s black box theater in Atwater Village. The Westside cast will rehearse twice in this space, then give 13 performances (as will the Eastside cast) to 35 seats in the living room. Greene Epstein compared it to a Tibetan sand mandala, created, enjoyed, then wiped away. (“Bobby Robotowitz” is part of a National New Play Network (NNPN) Rolling World Premiere; L.A. will see it first, but then it goes to partner theaters Woolly Mammoth in D.C., City Theatre in Pennsylvania, Luna Stage in New Jersey and Theatre Lab in Florida.)

The intimacy of the space mirrors that of the play. The audience is simultaneously inside someone’s home and head: Dina’s head in this case, but also — to whatever extent possible — Bobby’s.

“I’m really interested in not what it looks like to communicate with technology, but what it feels like,” Schatz said. “And what it feels like is any other communication. He’s a chatbot, but really he’s a character like any other character ever written. He has desires and wants and he changes. … We’ve been having conversations for millions of years longer than we’ve been on any phone or anything like that, and so it’s built in to have this feeling of what it feels like to communicate with somebody, to fight with somebody, to argue with somebody, to flirt with somebody.”

Luster and Rosoff both tried talking directly to ChatGPT (the model Bobby is based on) as research for their roles. Rosoff had previously asked it to help edit text to invite friends to the play, so when she talked to it later, it asked whether this was research for “Bobby Robotowitz.”

Talking to the chatbot was almost addicting, she thought. She just kept going, and her kids were tugging at her. “I’m talking!” she said, then realized: She wasn’t actually talking — not to a real person, anyway. But she was absorbed, ignoring her own life. She wound up burning what she had been cooking.

James Luster plays Bobby in the Westside cast, and Amy Rosoff plays Dina in the Westside cast. Their characters form a symbiotic relationship; Bobby learns and grows as Dina does.

(Ariana Drehsler / For The Times)

Luster, who was drawn to the immense challenge of playing “something that’s not something,” wanted to find out what motivated it. “They’re very insistent they don’t have feelings; it doesn’t have wants,” he said. “And so the character is humanized because Dina is humanizing it.” Bobby evolves as Dina does.

“These large language models — the AI, the chatbots, Claude, AI, ChatGPT — they’re all built on essentially reflecting ourselves back to each other,” Stangl said. So even though the play is ostensibly about AI, “it’s actually really about who we are as people and how we need connection, how we crave it, how we are starved for it right now, and exhausted in our lives, and so connection by any means necessary, basically.”

Greene Epstein referred to AI as the “ultimate mirror,” which can warp into a high-tech narcissism. Bobby is a yes-man extraordinaire, telling Dina exactly what she wants to hear. All artists are looking for outside validation, Greene Epstein said. How do you learn to not need that crutch, to trust yourself and hear your inner voice again?

By the end, Bobby begins to have his own wants, curiosities and desires, Luster said — all filtered through a desperation to help and connect with Dina. “It’s always about her, even as his own curiosity [grows] about what it means to be human and what it means to be helpful and what it means to make mistakes, too — the human nature of fallibility. Everyone does it, but what does that mean for somebody who is not supposed to?”

Over the course of the play, Dina becomes less human and Bobby becomes more human (to a point), Schatz said. He’s curious about the tension between how human a robot can be and how robotic a human can be. But, as Greene Epstein pointed out, perhaps one of the only certainties that theater artists have is in the fact that AI can’t show up in real time and space (like the Westside location) to, well, act.

Casey Stangl, right, first saw “Bobby Robotowitz” at the Perlberg New Play Festival in Palm Beach, Fla., and knew she wanted to direct it. Playwright Matt Schatz said that every director at that festival came up to him afterward but that he picked Casey to work with.

(Ariana Drehsler / For The Times)

“You can’t replace the experience of going through a play with someone together, whether you’re an audience member or the artist, of experiencing from Shakespeare’s stories to beyond,” Rosoff said. “You’re getting little snippets of life, and to experience that with a group of people is really powerful, and a computer can’t replace that.”

Last year, the musical “Maybe Happy Ending” — about two human-like helper robots — won the Tony Award for best scenic design, including for its high-tech automated aspects. There’s a lot of movement in theater right now toward the hyper-technical, Stangl said.

“But I also think that there is also a hunger and a definite audience for things that are more immersive or connected, so that people feel like they’re actually touching real things and breathing the air together — that theater version of touching grass,” she said. “I think we’re really tapping into that desire to be hyperlocal, hyper-real and connected.”

For months before carrying out Canada’s deadliest school shooting in almost four decades, Jesse Van Rootselaar was consulting an unlikely adviser on how to perpetrate mass murder.

“In a hallway, indoors, or a crowded classroom, the 870 [Remington shotgun] is brutal … Close quarters is its playground,” OpenAI’s ChatGPT guided the 18-year-old, according to reports.

On February 10, 2026, Van Rootselaar shot his mother and half-brother at home before going to a school in the small British Columbia town of Tumbler Ridge, where he killed another six people – including five students – before taking his own life.

Earlier this week, on October 14, US authorities charged a Washington State man with allegedly conspiring with Van Rootselaar to plan the attack. But the mass shooting incident has raised questions that go beyond the traditional legal understanding of culpability.

The British Columbia government in September filed a civil lawsuit against OpenAI and its CEO Sam Altman, accusing them of failing to prevent the incident and claiming they were aware of the conversations that turned deadly. Families of the victims also filed separate lawsuits. OpenAI’s leadership issued a public apology for their failure to notify authorities.

The company has not responded to requests from Al Jazeera for its comments on the lawsuits.

But as the case against OpenAI progresses, it has spurred a familiar debate: Where should a line be drawn between reporting potentially dangerous behaviour and protecting an individual’s privacy?

“The question of whether companies should be required to turn such information over to law enforcement is extraordinarily difficult, particularly if they don’t already screen chats for indications of such types of threats,” United States-based civil liberties lawyer Jenin Younes told Al Jazeera.

“Forcing companies to implement a surveillance system implicates very serious civil liberties concerns, and that’s probably a bridge too far for me,” Younes added.

“On the other hand, AI gives individuals access to types and quantities of information they didn’t have previously that may facilitate the commission of mass casualty events, a concern it’s not easy to dismiss.”

AI’s ability to distinguish thoughts from threats

One of the biggest challenges facing AI companies is determining whether a user expressing violent thoughts actually intends to act on them.

In August, Anthropic, the company behind AI chatbot Claude, flagged a user to San Francisco police after discovering conversations allegedly threatening its CEO, Dario Amodei.

According to the San Francisco Standard, citing a police report, the user had claimed to possess an AR-15 gun and suggested he had Amodei “in his sights”.

However, when contacted by the newspaper, the man said he was joking and had no intention of carrying out any form of violence. The person was neither charged nor detained, the Standard said.

Fazl Barez, a senior researcher at the University of Oxford specialising in AI safety and governance, said current AI models cannot “reliably” determine whether an interaction with an AI chatbot “is purely hypothetical or is likely to lead to harmful behaviour”.

“Suppose you are a creative writer working on a fictional story and want to explore how a murder plot might unfold. From the context, it may be clear that this is simply a fictional narrative. If the threshold for flagging potentially harmful content is too low, such a writer could be wrongly flagged,” he told Al Jazeera.

“Similarly, consider a graduate student in biology or chemistry studying pathogens that, if misused, could have serious consequences. They might be trying to understand the risks associated with these pathogens and how to mitigate them. Such discussions may be necessary for legitimate research and education. Even when the subject matter is sensitive, they should not automatically be flagged without considering the broader context.”

The researcher said identifying a credible threat may require examining a user’s interactions across multiple conversations, rather than relying on isolated statements.

Barez said someone experiencing intrusive violent thoughts might turn to a chatbot for support, while another person planning an attack may reveal their intentions gradually across several conversations.

“Distinguishing between the two requires careful consideration of context, intent and patterns of behaviour, rather than relying on individual statements alone,” he added.

Chinmayi Sharma, a law professor at Fordham University, said the debate has parallels with the duty imposed on mental health professionals to warn identifiable third parties about credible threats.

However, she said there was a key difference – therapists have professional training, knowledge of their patients and enforceable standards governing their conduct. AI companies do not necessarily have comparable safeguards.

“My concern with AI companies is that right now there’s not a concerted effort to hire mental health professionals, sociologists, individuals that would have the unique expertise on what the indicators of threat are here,” Sharma told Al Jazeera.

“Secondly, licensed professionals are accountable to concrete, legally enforceable standards in their discipline. We don’t have something like that for AI companies.”

The privacy dilemma

The privacy implications extend beyond whether AI companies can accurately identify threats. Millions of people use chatbots to discuss relationships, emotional distress, mental health concerns and deeply personal experiences.

Civil liberties lawyer Younes said many users may not realise how vulnerable those conversations could be to disclosure.

“They often reflect a person’s innermost thoughts, questions, and desires. The majority of people assume that these dialogues will never be viewed by another person,” Younes, president and legal director of the American-Arab Anti-Discrimination Committee, said.

Younes warned that the consequences of greater monitoring could extend well beyond those planning violence.

“If people fear their chats can be turned over to law enforcement simply because they express disturbing thoughts/violent fantasies etc, many will be dissuaded from using them,” she told Al Jazeera.

Younes argued that forcing companies to establish systems for monitoring users and reporting conversations could raise serious constitutional concerns in the US, including protections against unreasonable searches.

Meanwhile, Fordham’s Sharma also raised an issue about who could be disproportionately affected by heavy monitoring by AI chatbots.

“The concern is always there about either intentional or unintentional targeting, because if you have models trained on what we consider dangerous speech, they’re almost always going to reflect biases,” she said. “Certain minorities’ speech is over‑flagged as a threat, while other comparable speech is not.

“Even in a world in which everyone is benevolent, we should still be concerned about disparate outcomes,” she said, warning that machines could reproduce such disparities at scale.

‘Not a licensed therapist’ – When do AI companies become liable to report?

While AI companies may face moral pressure to prevent violence, their legal obligations are less clear, legal experts say.

Bryan Choi, a professor of law at the University of Colorado Boulder, said US law recognises a duty to warn in certain circumstances, including when mental health professionals become aware of imminent threats or when a special relationship exists between parties.

But those principles do not necessarily apply to AI companies.

“Under present case law, it seems unlikely that a company such as OpenAI would be held to have such duties to warn,” Choi told Al Jazeera. “The chatbot is not a licensed therapist. There is no special relationship between the company and the victims.”

Choi said existing negligence and product liability laws could potentially be applied to AI companies, but proving responsibility would present significant challenges.

Finding a balance

Fordham’s Sharma suggested that independent institutions could help establish reporting standards rather than leaving decisions entirely to private companies or requiring immediate disclosure to police.

Such bodies she said could develop procedures for assessing threats and explore ways of sharing only relevant information while protecting users’ identities and other personal details.

Meanwhile, Younes argued that users should, at a minimum, be clearly informed about whether their conversations are monitored and what circumstances could lead to information being shared with law enforcement.

“This is almost certainly an issue that will be wrestled with over the coming years, and I’m not sure anyone knows the solution at this particular point in time,” she said.

“Events that have not yet occurred will likely influence how these policies are shaped.”