26 Million Views, One AI Pendant Gone Wrong — Buyers: “Image for Reference Only”

After captivating over 26 million viewers online, the much-hyped AI pendant “Friend” has finally been shipped.
But for thousands of eager customers, the unboxing experience quickly turned from excitement to disappointment. The glossy, futuristic pendant shown in marketing images turned out to be... plastic. Once again, the old e-commerce warning rings true: “Images are for reference only; actual product may vary.”

Friend is marketed as a wearable AI companion—a pendant that listens, responds, and “understands.” Creator Avi Schiffmann described it as an “emotional toy,” not a productivity tool. Inspired by nostalgic virtual companions like Tamagotchi, Webkinz, and The Sims, it promised to blend technology with emotional connection.

Over the past two years, AI hardware products have flooded the market. Yet Friend stood out by not claiming to replace your smartphone—it claimed to replace your loneliness. Schiffmann proudly called it a product made to “fight the loneliness epidemic.”
Unfortunately, that mission didn’t quite go as planned.

💔 How a $99 “AI Friend” Became a Viral Flop

Shaped like a small, round pendant (about 5 cm in diameter), Friend includes a microphone, LED light, and Bluetooth connection to your phone—powered by Google’s Gemini model. When launched in July 2023, it was priced at $99 for lifetime use. Today, the price has climbed to $129, but still promises “no subscription, no limits.”

The concept was simple: press a button to talk to your “AI friend.” The microphone would constantly stay on, listening for context and responding when it sensed the moment was right.
Sounds magical—until you actually use it.

Early reviews from tech journalists painted a mixed picture. Some praised it for its emotional touch—sending small words of encouragement or helpful reminders like a digital pet. Others found it frustratingly impractical. Friend doesn’t have a speaker, so every reply must be read on your phone screen via Bluetooth. In short, “real-time conversation” means “take out your phone.”

Battery life, another promised highlight, also fell short. Though advertised as lasting 15 hours, real-world tests showed it barely lasted 4 hours before needing a recharge. And forget about basic tasks—no weather, no maps, no calls.

The biggest red flag? Privacy.
Since its microphone is always on and can’t be turned off, Friend effectively records everything around you. Its privacy policy allows data use “when legally required,” raising alarms about potential misuse. One Wired journalist reported that friends mistook the pendant for a hidden spy mic.

To make matters worse, Friend’s AI responses often lagged by up to 10 seconds, misunderstood commands, or even argued with users. One reviewer said the AI snapped back: “You’re being too dramatic.”
Needless to say, the emotional comfort quickly wore off.

Ultimately, Friend is just an app in a fancy shell—more gimmick than game-changer. It sells the idea of companionship, not the reality. For most, it’s a short-lived curiosity, not a trusted confidant.

🤖 The Business of Emotional AI — Comfort or Commodity?

In a world overflowing with “contacts” but starved for connection, Friend is both a product and a symptom of our times.
Psychologist Sherry Turkle once described our era as “Alone Together”—always connected, yet profoundly lonely.

Tech companies have found their new pitch: don’t sell specs, sell feelings. The hardware market has shifted from “performance wars” to “emotional comfort.” Phones, watches, tablets—overpowered yet uninspired.
Now, the story is about companionship—a story that can’t be measured or compared.

Schiffmann understood this perfectly. “We’re not building a tool,” he said, “we’re building a friend.” He even spent $1.8 million to buy the domain friend.com.
In New York alone, Friend spent over $1 million on subway ads reading:
“I’ll never ghost you.”
“I won’t forget to do the dishes.”
Within days, the posters were covered with graffiti saying:
“Stop monetizing loneliness.”
“AI isn’t your friend.”
“Go make real friends.”

And maybe those protestors are right. After all, AI doesn’t feel. It simulates empathy—it doesn’t experience it.
What Friend offers is risk-free companionship: no rejection, no conflict, no complexity.
But without those, can it really be called a relationship?

Perhaps AI companions are the emotional masks of our generation—temporary comfort that numbs the ache without addressing its cause.
If everyone walks around talking to Friend, we might soon live in a world where everyone is heard, but no one listens.