Human coaching isn’t going anywhere (because humans still need humans)
So, AI is the star of the show right now, isn’t it? It’s popping up everywhere - from writing/editing our emails to suggesting dinner recipes to, yes, even coaching. There’s a lot of talk about how AI will ‘democratise’ coaching - making it more accessible, affordable, scalable. And to be fair, in some contexts that’s probably a good thing.
If you’re after performance coaching, or you love a bit of structure (hello, GROW model), then an AI-powered chatbot might very well do the trick. It can ask neat little questions, help you sort through your thoughts, maybe even learn to sound a bit like your coach if you let it listen in (not sure how I feel about that, but let’s park it for now). There are some famous coaches who are building robotic version of themselves and it is fascinating how close they get to imitating their behaviours and lines of enquiry.
But let’s get honest for a second - is that really the heart of coaching? Is the magic in the model? The outcome? The perfectly timed question or observation? Hmm. I don’t think so.
What clients tell me - what they really value - is something a bit less polished. A bit more... human. It’s the feeling of being truly seen. Heard. Held. Not in a dramatic rom-com kind of way, but in that quiet, steady, “you’re not broken, you’re just figuring it out” kind of way.
Because coaching, at its best, isn’t about being fixed. It’s about being witnessed. No judgement. No rushing. Just someone sitting across from you who gets it - or is at least trying to - who is fascinated by you, and who’s willing to hold the space while you unravel, regroup, and maybe even rewrite your story.
And let’s be honest, AI can try to mimic that. It can copy the cadence, use the words, even chuck in a “that sounds hard” now and then. But it doesn’t feel anything. It doesn’t notice the pause in your voice when you talk about your dad. Or the shift in your energy when you say you’re “fine” (but you’re obviously not). It can’t notice it’s own internal response to what you are saying or doing in the moment and get curious about it. It can’t sit with discomfort - yours, theirs, the stuff that’s co-created between you. It doesn’t care - not because it’s mean, but because it’s a machine. Obvs.
Human coaching is about connection. It’s about presence. It’s about that subtle, intangible something that happens when two people are in a room (or on a call) and one says to the other: “You’re not alone.” And that is the gold.
Brené Brown (queen of courage and my heart) talks a lot about vulnerability and true belonging. She says it’s about showing up as your real self and being met with acceptance. That’s not something AI can do, no matter how many updates it gets. It doesn’t know what it’s like to feel like a fraud, or to want to run away from your own decisions, or to cry at work because it’s all just a bit much.
In a world that’s growing increasingly automated and transactional, that kind of honest-to-goodness human connection is becoming a rare gem. And that’s why coaching isn’t going anywhere. In fact, it might just become more valuable. Because it offers something we’re all a bit starved for: someone to talk to who’s really listening.
So yes, let AI do its thing. Let it help with the admin, offer up clever questions, maybe even support some early-stage reflection. But let’s not pretend it can replace the real thing.
The future of coaching is with humans. Because coaching isn’t just a process - it’s a relationship. And relationships, as we know, are gloriously, messily, imperfectly, beautifully human.