By Monica Radu

Imagine someone losing a loved one and you send them a message generated by AI. Even if the words are thoughtful and appropriate, something about it might feel… off. Maybe even a little cold. I think we would tend to read that act as impersonal, as if the emotion doesn’t fully “count.”

But many of us routinely send sympathy cards, often prewritten, mass-produced messages crafted by strangers. We buy them, sign our names, and send them as gestures of care. Socially, that feels completely acceptable. In fact, the greeting card industry is enormous. Americans purchase billions of greeting cards each year, and companies like Hallmark and American Greetings have built entire industries around helping people communicate emotions ranging from love and celebration to sympathy and grief.

Sympathy cards alone make up a significant share of everyday greeting card use, reflecting how culturally important these rituals of support have become. The industry has also evolved alongside changing social norms. For example, Hallmark introduced pet sympathy cards in the 1980s in response to growing recognition that many people view pets as family members deserving of mourning and remembrance.

That cultural reliance on written sympathy became especially visible during the COVID-19 pandemic. As people faced loss while separated by social distancing, many turned to sympathy cards when in-person comfort was impossible and a text message felt insufficient. Reports even noted that sympathy cards were selling out at times during the pandemic, underscoring how deeply normalized these commercially produced expressions of care have become during moments of grief.

At the same time, there is an important distinction many people still make. Even though sympathy cards are mass-produced and commercialized, we tend to assume the words were originally written by another human being. The message may be standardized, but it still feels connected to human emotion and experience. AI-generated condolences, by contrast, are viewed differently because they appear to come from a machine rather than a person. Yet AI itself is built from human language, social norms, emotional patterns, and countless examples of human expression. In many ways, it is drawing from collective human ideas about how care and sympathy are supposed to sound.

So, what’s the difference?

The answer may lie less in the words themselves and more in how societies learn to interpret different forms of emotional communication. For most of human history, people have relied on culturally standardized ways to express emotion. Greeting cards themselves were once a technological innovation.

Early forms of written greetings appeared in ancient China and Egypt, but by the 1400s Europeans were exchanging handmade Valentine’s Day cards and other written sentiments. As postal systems expanded in the 1800s, greeting cards became more affordable and widely available. By the late nineteenth century, companies were mass-producing Christmas and Valentine’s cards across the United States and Europe. What may have once felt artificial gradually became normalized as a meaningful ritual of care.

Today, few people question whether a sympathy card “counts” simply because the message was written by someone working for a greeting card company. Historically, these forms of mediated emotional expression became culturally legitimate ways of showing compassion, grief, celebration, and love.  In many ways, AI is simply the newest form of mediated communication, joining a long history of technologies that reshape how people express intimacy, grief, and connection across distance.

The uneasiness many people feel toward AI-generated condolences may say less about the words themselves and more about our social expectations surrounding authenticity, effort, and emotional labor. What we define as “genuine” communication is not fixed. It changes alongside technology, cultural norms, and the ways societies organize emotional expression. Cultural differences may also shape these reactions. In some contexts, AI-assisted communication may feel impersonal or inauthentic, while in others it may be viewed more pragmatically as another tool people use to maintain social connection.

Sociologists who study technology emphasize that technologies themselves are not inherently good, bad, authentic, or impersonal. Instead, societies collectively decide what technologies mean and how they should be used. We already make social judgments about which forms of communication are considered appropriate in different situations. Some people see a breakup over text as unacceptable but view a quick text update to friends as perfectly normal. Some expect a phone call during a crisis, while others are comfortable communicating through email or messaging apps. These expectations are socially learned and may vary across generations. The apprehension surrounding AI condolences reflects a broader process of negotiating new social norms around communication, emotion, and care.

From a sociological perspective, this tension also highlights how emotions are not just private feelings; they are socially organized performances. Drawing on Arlie Hochschild’s concept of emotional labor, condolences can be understood as part of the relational work people perform to maintain social bonds during moments of grief. Expressions of sympathy often carry expectations of thoughtfulness and visible effort. This helps explain why handwritten condolences can feel especially meaningful. A handwritten note may symbolize time, intention, and personal investment, even when the message itself is simple. Many people intentionally choose blank sympathy cards so they can include personal memories or words of support in their own handwriting.

In many ways, condolences also become part of what sociologist Erving Goffman described as the “presentation of self.” People are not only expressing grief or support, but also communicating what kind of friend, coworker, or family member they are. The way we perform care matters socially because others interpret those actions as reflections of character, sincerity, and relationship quality.

Additionally, drawing from symbolic interactionism, meaning isn’t inherent in the message itself. Meaning emerges through social interpretation. A sympathy card carries widely shared cultural meaning: “I care. I’m thinking of you.” AI-generated condolences do not yet carry that same stable meaning. Instead, they may signal convenience or emotional detachment.

This comparison reveals something deeper: we already rely on socially approved shortcuts for expressing emotion. Greeting cards, funeral etiquette, even phrases like “I’m so sorry for your loss” are all part of a standardized emotional language. In that sense, AI may not be as radically different as it first appears. Instead, it makes the outsourcing of emotional expression more visible.

AI-assisted condolences may also reflect a cultural shift toward efficiency and convenience in social life. Sociologist George Ritzer described this process as “McDonaldization,” where values like speed, predictability, and standardization increasingly shape human interaction. We already live in a culture built around convenience, from food delivery apps to automated customer service to algorithm-generated recommendations. AI may simply extend this logic into emotional communication itself, allowing people to quickly produce polished, socially acceptable expressions of care. This can create anxiety that even our most personal interactions are becoming increasingly automated and emotionally detached.

There’s also a question of authenticity versus accessibility. For some people, especially in moments of grief, finding the right words is difficult. AI could help individuals express care when they otherwise might say nothing at all. If the recipient feels supported, does it matter where the words originated?

Over time, the norms surrounding AI-assisted communication may shift. What feels strange today may become routine tomorrow, just as greeting cards once transformed how people expressed emotion across distance. Technology alone does not determine whether communication feels meaningful or sincere. People do. Sociology reminds us that ideas about authenticity, care, and emotional connection are shaped through culture, interaction, and shared expectations. What matters most may not be whether technology is involved, but whether people still feel seen, supported, and cared for in moments of loss.