Artificial intelligence can now write, analyse, summarise, translate, compare and rephrase, producing sometimes remarkably relevant answers in seconds. It can adopt a warm tone, structure an argument with great precision and give the impression of having understood the most intimate aspects of a situation. That is precisely what makes the comparison with human intuition interesting, especially when artificial intelligence begins to enter the world of psychic readings.

I am not opposed to AI on principle. It would be rather hypocritical to pretend otherwise, given how useful it can be for writing, organising, researching, translating and saving time on certain tasks. But acknowledging the power of a tool does not mean attributing abilities to it that it does not possess. AI can produce an answer that resembles intuition; that does not mean it feels anything.

In psychic work, this distinction is more than a technical detail. It concerns the very nature of the profession. A machine can produce a plausible answer, make subtle connections and handle the language of emotion fluently. Yet it has no inner experience of what it asserts. It feels neither presence, intuition nor hesitation, and bears no personal sense of responsibility towards the person receiving its words.

An accurate answer does not become intuition simply because it arrives at the right moment

The first trap is to confuse relevance with perception. When AI expresses exactly what we needed to hear, or describes a personal situation with sensitivity, it is tempting to see something deeper in it. Our minds are naturally receptive to coincidences, words that resonate and connections that seem to arrive at just the right moment.

Yet a machine can reach a highly relevant conclusion without having felt anything. It recognises patterns, connects situations, draws on context and produces what appears to be the most coherent answer. The result can be remarkable, sometimes even more elegant than anything a person might write when rushed, tired or simply less skilled with words. That does not turn a process of generation into perception.

This is why the language we use about AI deserves some care. We readily say that it “understands”, “guesses” or “senses”. These words are convenient in conversation, but they can blur the distinction between a highly convincing simulation of understanding and an experience actually lived. In psychic work, that boundary deserves to remain clearly visible.

Human intuition is about more than predicting correctly

Reducing intuition to the ability to get the right answer is already limiting. A prediction may be accurate because it draws on experience, observation, logic or probability. Someone who has worked in a profession for years may notice in seconds what a beginner would take hours to identify. We readily call this intuition, although some of it also comes from deeply internalised experience.

In psychic work, the question becomes more complex. After nearly twenty years of practice, I am better able to distinguish a thought of my own, a logical deduction, a hypothesis and a perception that presents itself differently. That experience clearly does not make me infallible. Above all, it helps me recognise the different qualities of what emerges during a consultation, rather than treating everything in the same way.

Making these distinctions is essential. A perception can be strong but not yet fully understood. An idea can seem brilliant and still have nothing to do with what is actually unfolding. A piece of information may be intellectually coherent without “ringing true” in the consultation. Experience teaches us precisely not to confuse these different levels.

AI can produce a highly sophisticated hypothesis, but it does not experience this distinction. It does not feel the difference between a thought that appears, an intuition that asserts itself and information better left aside. It can describe that difference beautifully; it does not live it.

A consultation is not an answer vending machine

One potential pitfall of applying AI to psychic readings lies in its constant availability. One question produces an answer, and another question produces another. If the first is unwelcome, nothing prevents someone from trying again until they receive something more reassuring. Before long, the search for meaning can turn into a “regenerate” button.

A responsible human consultation should not work this way. Sometimes it is necessary to slow down, recall that a question has already been explored, allow a situation to develop or say that seeking yet another answer will only feed anxiety. Giving more answers does not always mean giving more help.

This boundary matters particularly in psychic work, because some people can become dependent on repeated consultations. They ask again and again what will happen, whether someone will return, whether a decision is right or whether a situation has changed since yesterday. A practitioner must be able to recognise this pattern and sometimes refuse to reinforce it.

A machine feels no concern about this repetition. It may not recognise someone gradually becoming trapped in a need for confirmation. If its role is to answer, it answers. It is efficient, available around the clock and remarkably patient. For some things, that is an advantage. In a relationship of dependency, rather less so.

In psychic work, presence matters as much as words

A consultation does not begin with the first prediction. It begins with a relationship. People arrive with their stories, concerns, expectations and sometimes a certain wariness. My role also involves putting them at ease, helping them speak freely and creating a setting in which they feel neither judged, tested nor artificially impressed.

I have never thought my job was to make sure people could see that I was “connected”. I do not need to play the psychic, multiply dramatic silences or turn a consultation into a fantasy-film trailer. For me, being connected means being fully present, available and attentive, and able to distinguish what belongs to me from what concerns the person in front of me.

This presence is often far quieter than the traditional image of a psychic suggests. It also means noticing when someone has become tense, when a phrase has landed badly, when a little humour might ease the pressure or when rephrasing would be better than insisting. The quality of a consultation also depends on these invisible adjustments.

AI can reproduce the language of empathy with great sensitivity. It can write something gentle, reassuring or perfectly nuanced. But it does not see a face close down, feel the atmosphere change or share the emotional responsibility of the moment. It can simulate the conventions of a relationship; that does not mean it experiences that relationship.

The weight of words cannot be separated from responsibility

In psychic work, a sentence can remain in someone's mind for a long time. A person may forget ninety per cent of a consultation yet remember a single phrase about a relationship, a job or a difficult period for years. That is precisely why practitioners must consider the impact of what they say.

An accurate perception can be poorly expressed. Interesting information can arrive at the wrong moment. An intuition may be too uncertain to deserve a definitive statement. The work therefore involves more than producing information: it means considering how to communicate it and what place it should have in the consultation.

This responsibility is deeply human because it involves the person speaking. I sometimes think back to a phrase, wondering whether I was clear enough or could have expressed it differently. Thankfully, this does not mean treating every consultation as a continual examination of conscience. It simply means knowing that words have consequences.

AI can be programmed to exercise caution. It can avoid certain topics, qualify its wording and follow rules. What it cannot do is feel the weight of what it has just said. It does not go home in the evening wondering whether it should have phrased something differently. It feels no regret or reassurance and carries no inner trace of the conversation.

Free will should never become a polite closing formula

Free will is central to the way I practise. In my view, a consultation should leave doors open rather than close more of them. A perception may indicate a tendency, reveal a dynamic or draw attention to a difficulty. It should never deprive someone of the right to decide what to do with their own life.

This matters because psychic readings can easily create a sense of inevitability. When a practitioner speaks with excessive certainty, they may suggest that the future is already written and that choosing otherwise would be pointless. It certainly creates an impression of authority, but it is not necessarily the best service one can offer.

Respecting free will means accepting that someone can hear a perception and still choose another direction. It also means recognising that behaviour evolves, circumstances change and life sometimes has the inconvenient habit of departing from the expected script. Anyone dreaming of a perfectly orderly future will, unfortunately, have to do without the spreadsheet.

AI can explain free will, remind people that their choices remain their own and finish every answer with a polished statement about individual freedom. But free will is more than a note added at the bottom of a consultation. It is reflected in the entire way a practitioner speaks, in the nuances, boundaries and space they accept leaving unoccupied.

Artificial psychic readings raise an ethical question above all

What concerns me most about AI in psychic work is not the technology itself. The real problem begins when an automated system is presented as though it feels, perceives or picks something up. At that point, the question is no longer merely technical. It becomes a matter of transparency.

AI can generate a card spread, interpret cards, produce a highly personalised message and use exactly the language expected in a consultation. As these tools improve, the distinction can become harder for users to recognise. That is precisely why it must be stated clearly.

People must know whether they are speaking with a human practitioner or a generative system. They must know whether what they read is being presented as a perception or as an automated interpretation. This is not nostalgia in the face of modernity; it is a straightforward matter of consent and honesty.

I have no objection to an entertainment tool that clearly states what it is. But when a computer system borrows the language of feeling, mediumship or intuition to present itself as a digital psychic, the approach becomes much more questionable. It is not necessarily psychic work that is being modernised; sometimes it is simply the packaging.

After twenty years of practice, doubt remains a useful tool

Doubt is sometimes presented as the opposite of competence. In my profession, I see it more as a form of quality control. After nearly twenty years of practice, I still sometimes check a perception internally, wait for something to become clearer or choose not to develop an impression that feels too uncertain.

Experience makes a difference because we learn to recognise that doubt and put it in its proper place. Today, I am better able to distinguish my own reasoning, a personal concern and what genuinely belongs to the consultation. Above all, this helps prevent me from making someone else carry what is not theirs.

Experience does not eliminate uncertainty; it helps us manage it. It teaches us not to panic when information does not come immediately, not to fill a silence simply to appear effective and to accept that a consultation may sometimes need more time.

Some people have been consulting me for many years. They know this way of working, my nuances, my doubts when they are warranted and, above all, how I distinguish perception from reasoning and personal projection. If they still return, I tell myself the suit cannot have been too badly tailored after all. After twenty years, it would normally have split somewhere by now.

The pleasure of giving readings is not measured by successful predictions

There is something else that discussions of AI often overlook: the pleasure of meeting another person. After all these years, I still enjoy giving readings. I enjoy the moment when someone arrives with what may seem a very closed question and the situation gradually becomes clearer, more open or simply different from what they had imagined.

That pleasure has less and less to do with performance alone. Of course, a very precise perception remains surprising and can be particularly satisfying. But a good consultation is not measured solely by the number of spectacular details one can produce. It may be successful because someone better understands what they are experiencing, rediscovers a possibility they had lost sight of or simply leaves with greater freedom.

This is probably where my understanding of the profession has changed most. With time, demonstrating that one can see something becomes less important than understanding what that perception can actually offer. Psychic work should not become a contest in precision, won by whoever impresses the most.

This relationship, the pleasure of conversation, the trust that develops, the ability sometimes to laugh about a situation without diminishing it and the sense that someone leaves freer than they arrived are all part of the profession. AI can describe them brilliantly. It cannot experience that pleasure.

AI can be a remarkable tool without becoming a psychic

The boundary I draw is therefore quite simple. AI can be an excellent tool for a practitioner. It can help structure a text, translate, research, organise a website, analyse data or automate technical tasks. Denying the value of these uses would be absurd.

But a tool does not need to become the person it assists. Accounting software is not an accountant, a GPS is not a driver, and AI capable of interpreting a card spread is not thereby a psychic. Technology can support the profession without claiming its human faculties.

That is where, in my view, the appropriate boundary lies. AI can assist, accelerate, organise or enrich aspects of the work. It should not be presented as a source of intuition, perception or mediumship when it has no corresponding inner experience.

As technology becomes more convincing, this distinction will matter more. We are likely to live in a world where machines grow increasingly skilled at producing the outward appearance of attention, empathy and even intuition. That will not make human beings less necessary. On the contrary, it may make their presence more valuable.

Human intuition is about more than producing the right sentence

Ultimately, asking whether AI can replace human intuition reveals our fascination with results. When an answer is good, we tend to forget to ask how it was obtained. In many fields, that matters little. In psychic work, it seems essential to me.

A consultation is valuable for more than the accuracy of a few sentences. Its value also lies in the practitioner's presence and discernment, the way they communicate their impressions, the boundaries they can set and the freedom they leave the person consulting them.

Human intuition is imperfect, variable and sometimes difficult to explain. It requires experience, attention, perspective and enough humility to accept not always knowing. These very imperfections require practitioners to remain vigilant and personally engaged in what they say.

I therefore do not believe that AI can replace human intuition in psychic work. It can imitate it with increasing skill, borrow its vocabulary and reproduce some of its effects. But there remains an essential difference between generating a convincing answer and being personally engaged in a consultation.

In my profession, that difference changes everything.