The company isn’t exactly breaking new ground. The idea of a chatbot standing in for a human is fairly common. As is the idea of cashing in on it. For instance, Manhattan psychologist Becky Kennedy has built a parenting advice business that features a chatbot named Gigi trained on her acumen and knowledge. Kennedy’s company pulled in $34 million last year. So if you are an expert, Onix might sound pretty good—imagine a bot with your persona making money for you by interacting with thousands of clients with no effort on your part. As an Onix white paper puts it, “The expert’s knowledge base becomes a capital asset that generates revenue independent of their time.”
Onix hopes to eventually have many thousands of experts offering versions of themselves. But for now, it’s starting with a highly vetted group of 17, with a concentration on health and wellness. Though most of these experts have impressive professional resumes, they are notable as marketers and influencers as well. Some have books or podcasts to promote, or supplements or medical devices to sell.
One expert on the platform, Michael Rich, counsels kids and their parents on overuse of media and its effects. Naturally, his opinions on screen time dominate chats with his Onix. When I spoke to Rich, he told me that he agreed to transfer his knowledge to Onix because of its privacy protections—and also because of the company’s clear communication that it doesn’t provide actual medical treatments. “It’s about helping folks understand exactly what may be going on for them and how they might pursue seeking therapy if they need it,” said Rich. Bennahum confirms that, say, engaging with a bot representing a pediatrician is in no way akin to a doctor’s visit. “It’s meant to augment [a user’s] ability to be thoughtful around whatever pediatric journey they’re on,” he says. Indeed, a disclaimer appears when you access the system noting you are receiving guidance, not medical treatment. Still, in a world where countless people treat Claude and ChatGPT like therapists—and many people can’t afford real health care— this warning seems destined to be widely ignored.
Another Onix expert I spoke to, David Rabin, said that while he was originally concerned about the process, Onix’s privacy and content protections addressed his worries, and he was pleased at what he saw in early conversations between users and his Onix. “I didn’t train it too much, but it was fairly impressive in terms of imitating my genuine concern, compassion, and empathetic candor with people,” he said. He added that the system will require close monitoring. “We always need to be careful because AI can overstep its boundaries,” he said.
Rabin’s speciality is dealing with stress, and he feels that in some cases consulting with his Onix might calm down anxious users, saving them a trip to the emergency room. He looks forward to real-life patients using the bot. “When my patients are struggling and they can’t reach me, they can go online and access a good part of the ‘me’ that is actually able to help them when I’m not able to,” he says. Added benefit: “It’s cheaper than seeing me in person.” Though Rabin hasn’t set his Onix subscription price, he thinks it will probably be in the range that Bennahum envisions—between $100 and $300 a year. That’s definitely more affordable than Rabin’s in-person fee of $600 an hour.
