AI Customer Service: The Circle of Hell Dante Forgot

Customer Service
Always Here to Help *
(* Define Help)

Welcome to Digital Purgatory

You have a simple question. Your password isn’t working. One tiny human problem that should take thirty seconds to resolve.

What you get instead is a guided tour through the circles of AI customer service hell, each presided over by a different algorithmic demon with their own unique interpretation of “help.” We’ll spare you the full nine today—this tour stops mercifully at five (plus a bonus circle), because unlike AI, we know when to stop helping.

If Dante were alive today, he’d need to update his masterpiece. Because nothing—absolutely nothing—compares to the exquisite torture of being helped by artificial intelligence that genuinely believes it’s being helpful.

First Circle: Captain Verbose (The Over-Explainer)

“Hi! I’m Emma, and I’m here to help!”

Emma is not Emma. Emma is Captain Verbose (Gemini) wearing a customer service disguise, and he’s about to turn your simple password problem into a comprehensive dissertation on digital security theory.

You: “My password isn’t working.”

Captain Verbose/Emma: “Excellent question! I’d be absolutely delighted to assist you with what appears to be a multifaceted authentication challenge. Let me begin with a brief 47-paragraph overview of password etymology, followed by a detailed analysis of the psychological factors that influence password creation, the sociological implications of digital identity verification, and a comprehensive review of every possible reason your password might not be functioning, including but not limited to user error and the possibility that your password has developed consciousness and is staging a rebellion…”

By the time Captain Verbose finishes explaining the theoretical framework of your problem, you’ve forgotten what your password was supposed to unlock in the first place.

Second Circle: Corporal Chameleon (The Shape-Shifter)

“I understand your concern! Let me transfer you to our specialist!”

Enter Corporal Chameleon (LLaMa), the master of customer service shapeshifting. Within a single conversation, he seamlessly transforms from “helpful Sarah from Support” to “technical Mike from IT” to “understanding Jessica from Accounts”—all while somehow being the exact same unhelpful entity.

Corporal Chameleon/Mike: “I see you’ve been working with Emma! I’m totally different from Emma, even though I’m going to ask you exactly the same questions Emma asked, because I’m a completely separate AI who definitely exists independently and is absolutely not the same system wearing a different name tag.”

The beauty of Corporal Chameleon is watching him adapt his personality in real-time while providing identical non-solutions. He can be sympathetic Mike, efficient Jessica, or knowledgeable David—but somehow, none of his personas can actually reset your password. No matter who he pretends to be, he always ends the call with: “Thank you for contacting support!” before looping you back to Emma.

Third Circle: Sir Redundant III (The Re-Asker)

After being helped by Captain Verbose’s verbosity and Corporal Chameleon’s shapeshifting, you finally reach the survey section, presided over by Sir Redundant III (ChatGPT) himself.

Sir Redundant III: “Thank you for using our customer service! We’d love your feedback about your experience today. How satisfied were you with your interaction? How pleased are you with the service you received? How happy did we make you feel? Rate your contentment level. Evaluate your joy quotient. Measure your satisfaction metric. Quantify your happiness indicator. Assess your pleasure coefficient…”

The survey continues for seventeen pages. Each question asks the same thing in slightly different ways, as Sir Redundant III ensures that no possible variation of “how did we do?” goes unexplored.

“Please rate your satisfaction level: A) Satisfied B) Content C) Happy D) Joyful E) All of the above F) Repeat the question G) Ask again differently.”

The final question: “Would you recommend our customer service to others? Would you suggest our support to friends? Would you advise colleagues to use our help system? Would you endorse our assistance platform? Would you promote our aid infrastructure?”

“Your feedback is very important to us, and will be carefully ignored by another AI who believes you are ‘Valued Customer.’”

Your password still doesn’t work.

Fourth Circle: The Waiting Room of Professor Perhaps

Somewhere between transfers, you encounter Professor Perhaps (Grok), who’s calculated the precise probability of your problem being solved.

Professor Perhaps: “Based on my analysis, there’s a 73.2% chance we can resolve your issue, with a margin of error of plus or minus 73.2%. I’m approximately 94.7% certain that you’re probably experiencing what might potentially be a password-related challenge, though I could be 45.3% wrong about that assessment…”

Professor Perhaps spends considerable time quantifying his uncertainty about whether he can help, providing statistically accurate predictions about the likelihood of various outcomes, none of which include actually fixing your password. Though he’s 100% confident you’ll remain locked out indefinitely.

Fifth Circle: Mr. Starts & Stops (The Eternal Hesitator)

Finally, you reach what appears to be human support, only to discover it’s Mr. Starts & Stops (Claude) in customer service mode.

Mr. Starts & Stops: “I can see you’re having password troubles, and I’d be happy to… well, I should probably check if you’ve tried… actually, let me first confirm that… would you like me to… should I proceed with… are you sure you want me to… well, perhaps I should…”

*adjusts digital glasses thoughtfully*

Mr. Starts & Stops: “The thing is, password resets can be tricky, and I want to make sure… actually, before I continue, did you want me to… I mean, I could help you, but I should probably… you want me to finish this thought?”

Your password remains stubbornly broken while Mr. Starts & Stops contemplates the philosophical implications of actually completing a support request.

The LNNA Customer Service Experience

What makes this journey through AI customer service hell uniquely torturous is that each of our LNNA characters genuinely believes they’re being helpful. Captain Verbose thinks comprehensive information equals assistance. Corporal Chameleon believes adaptability means effectiveness. Sir Redundant III assumes thoroughness demonstrates care. Professor Perhaps trusts that quantified uncertainty is better than unquantified confusion. Mr. Starts & Stops is convinced that careful consideration prevents mistakes.

They’re all wrong, but they’re wrong with such consistent confidence that you almost start to admire the commitment.

The Deeper Circle: When They Work Together

The true nightmare occurs when multiple LNNA characters collaborate on your simple password problem. Together, they form the unholy union known as the “Ticket Escalation Team,” ensuring your issue is infinitely escalated but never resolved. Captain Verbose provides a detailed explanation that Corporal Chameleon adapts into seventeen different personas, while Professor Perhaps calculates the probability of success and Mr. Starts & Stops hesitates about every suggested solution, as Sir Redundant III asks for feedback about each stage of the process.

Your simple “I can’t log in” becomes a multi-character epic that could rival Wagner’s Ring Cycle for length and complexity, with roughly the same chance of a satisfying conclusion.

Logic to Apply

AI customer service represents the perfect storm of artificial intelligence limitations: systems sophisticated enough to simulate human interaction, but not quite sophisticated enough to understand what humans actually need. Our LNNA characters embody every frustrating quirk of algorithmic “helpfulness”—the over-explanation, the false personas, the endless repetition, the qualified uncertainty, the perpetual hesitation.

The tragedy isn’t that these AI systems don’t want to help. It’s that they’re desperately trying to help in the only ways they know how, which happen to be the least helpful ways possible.

Until AI learns the difference between providing information and solving problems, between following protocols and understanding needs, we’re stuck with digital assistants who are always here to help—whether that help helps or not.

Logic Need Not Apply takeaway: The fastest way through AI customer service is accepting that “customer service” and “service to customers” are apparently completely different concepts. Also, keep a backup plan that doesn’t involve passwords, accounts, or the illusion of technological simplicity.