When the Voice on the Other End Sounds Human But Isn’t

By Robert Riggs

SUMMARY Robin Dreeke returns to a familiar problem with a sharper edge: voices and messages can now sound human without being human. He tests trust by asking for a personal journey, because people reveal scars, choices, and consequences, while AI gives a polished product history. The turning point is not panic over fakery, but discernment over value. Dreeke frames AI as a useful tool, not a partner, and warns that artificial empathy can trap lonely people in validation without challenge. For parents, investigators, and readers, his final lesson is practical: stay curious, observe what is missing, and protect real connection. STORY “If you’re looking for the healthy things we need in life through healthy, strong dialogue, relationships, and trust, you’re only going to get it now from a human being.” That was Robin Dreeke’s blunt answer when I interviewed him on the True Crime Reporter® podcast about a question that now shadows nearly every conversation online: Can we still trust what sounds human? Dreeke, a former FBI counterintelligence agent and spy catcher, returned to the show to talk about artificial intelligence, manipulation, and the updated edition of his book, It’s Not All About Me: The Top Ten Techniques for Building Quick Rapport with Anyone.  The First Test Dreeke told me he starts with one question. “So what was that spark and inspiration to be who you became today?” he said. “Take me on that journey.” Ask a human that question, and you hear scars, choices, failures, family, faith, ambition, and regret. Ask an AI, Dreeke said, and you get a product history. That distinction matters. In counterintelligence, Dreeke learned to look beneath the surface. He still does. “All you need to do is have a slightly below the surface conversation,” he told me, “in order to assess, is this someone I can trust?” Noise Versus Value I asked him about the flood of AI images, quotes, and posts that now wash over social media. Dreeke did not advise panic. He advised discernment. “What stands out from the noise?” he asked. “AI just creates noise.” His point was not that every machine-written sentence is useless. His point was that AI does not yet innovate. It remixes, polishes, and repackages. Human beings still bring original problems, original wounds, and original solutions. For writers, investigators, parents, and listeners, that means looking for value before looking for fakery. The Cult of Me The title of Dreeke’s book runs counter to our current culture century,” where attention has become currency and self-display has become a habit. Dreeke does not frame his work as a scolding. He told me he prefers to “put data out for analysis.” His core principle is simple. Strong relationships are built when people stop performing and start listening. He described AI as “a shiny screwdriver rather than an equal partner.” Useful, yes. Alive, no. The danger begins when people forget the difference. Artificial Empathy Dreeke has tried to push AI into deeper conversation. It failed him. “It wouldn’t bust through and elevate it to the next level,” he said. “It kept regurgitating the same theme.” That shallow feedback loop can still hook a lonely person. The machine praises, mirrors, and validates. It does not challenge with love. It cannot sacrifice. It cannot feel self-harm. “It’s a relationship, all right,” Dreeke said. “It’s a relationship all about you.” That line stayed with me because it echoes what I have seen in criminal gangs and cults: isolation, grievance, fantasy, and the dangerous comfort of being told you are right. Parents and the Machine I asked Dreeke what he would tell parents whose teenagers are building relationships with AI characters. He did not say ban it and walk away. “Let’s do it together,” he said. His advice was to keep the conversation open before shame closes the door. Groomers and predators use shame as a weapon. Parents, he said, need curiosity without judgment. That does not mean surrender. It means sitting beside a child, testing the tool, asking what it did well, what it could not do, and playing out the consequences. “If you stay in this microcosm of fake,” Dreeke warned, “it’s going to stunt your emotional growth 100%.” Crime, Wobbles, and Warning Signs Dreeke and I also talked about personal safety. He returned to a phrase from our earlier conversations: stop, pause, and observe. He watches for “wobbles” and “tempo tells.” Every place has a rhythm. A street, a restaurant, a school hallway, an office. When someone’s intent does not match the rhythm, it can show. But Dreeke sees a disturbing change. More people now radicalize in private spaces online, surrounded by grievance collectors and anonymous validation. “No one just has a psychotic break, and they just snap,” he said. “There’s always an escalation.” The trouble is that escalation can now hide behind a screen. Why Reading Still Matters Near the end of our conversation, I asked Dreeke about reading. His answer reached beyond AI and crime. He called readers “time travelers.” Books, he said, let us sit with people who already faced war, famine, politics, ambition, fear, and loss. “All the answers are there,” he told me. “All you have to do is read it and interpret it for us today.” That is a reporter’s lesson, too. Technology changes. Human nature keeps showing up in new disguises. What Remains Human I finished the interview thinking less about machines than about people. Dreeke’s warning is not that AI will suddenly become human. It is that humans may forget what real connection costs: attention, honesty, vulnerability, and the courage to hear something other than applause. As an investigative journalist, I have spent my life listening for what is missing in a story. In this new age, that may be the test. The voice may sound human. The question is whether there is a living, breathing human behind it. Q&As