Writing "Please" to an AI is important. But not for the reason you're thinking of.

Just one of Altman's "tweets" recently led me to a profound reflection on the intersection of artificial intelligence, customer experience (CX), and humanity.

On X, a user jokingly asked: "I wonder how much money OpenAI has lost in electricity costs due to people saying 'please' and 'thank you' to their models." Sam Altman ironically replied that the enormous cost reserved for politeness - probably "tens of millions of dollars" - is still "money well spent."

Altman's deliberately witty response opens up a deeper question: what is the real cost of courtesy, and what does it teach us about empathy in CX?

At first glance, saying "please" to a chatbot might seem like a bizarre habit, almost a waste. 

Every extra word consumes computational resources: electricity, server time, and, yes, money. In the optimized world of AI, where efficiency reigns supreme and the costs involved are - using Altman’s words - "eye-watering", these unsolicited courtesies might appear superfluous.

Some artificial intelligence experts believe, however, that being polite to an AI leads to better results.

Research - conducted with ChatGPT Search - led me to a Futurism article quoting Kurtis Beavers, design manager at Microsoft. Beavers argues that polite language "helps generate respectful and collaborative responses" and that "using courteous language sets a tone for the response."

The same research also suggested an interesting scientific paper, titled "Should We Respect LLMs?", which states that "the level of politeness used in requests [to an AI] can significantly influence the performance of large language models" and that "this phenomenon appears to mirror typical social behaviors of human beings."

Now let's try to flip the point of view: what if these small gestures of courtesy towards machines reveal something deeper about the human spirit and its role in customer service?

Let's think of a parallel in CX.

When an operator takes a moment to listen, to say "I understand you" with genuine warmth, or to go the extra mile and solve a problem, it's not just "time spent." Think about it: it's an investment in connection.

Like those extra keys typed for ChatGPT, these moments also have a cost: time, emotional energy, and sometimes even real money, in longer calls. Yet, they generate something that AI cannot replicate: authentic human empathy. 

A chatbot can process a "thank you" in milliseconds, but only a human being can feel gratitude and respond with a sincerity that touches the heart.

The best companies don't just invite their employees to calculate costs and optimize processes, but also transmit values: kindness, understanding, and the sensitivity necessary to establish a connection between colleagues and with customers. These are, for me, the roots of exceptional CX.

A well-trained operator doesn't just solve a problem; they make the customer feel recognized and understood. This human touch is priceless, not because it has no cost, but because its value exceeds any line in a spreadsheet. 

No algorithm can measure the loyalty that arises from a truly empathetic interaction.

Altman's ironic observation, therefore, contains a truth: even in the world of AI, humanity finds a way to shine. Those "wasted" words - "please," "thank you" - reflect our instinct to connect, even with machines.

In CX, where AI is transforming workflows, this instinct is our superpower. 

While we integrate AI to handle routine tasks, we reserve the human touch for what matters most: building trust, fostering loyalty, and reminding customers that behind every interaction there is a heart.

So, the next time you write "please" to a chatbot, don't feel out of place.

Smile.

You are consuming less energy than that used to generate yet another (and useless) Ghibli-style image, but you are leaving a much deeper mark: that of our humanity made of attention, respect, and presence. A quality that no artificial intelligence will ever be able to fully imitate.