Many newbies in the world of Artificial Intelligence presume AI is supposed to make work easier. For Karishma Pramanik, a digital marketer in Delhi, it did. Until it didn’t. She recalls when ChatGPT was simply an extra pair of eyes. She would paste an important email on it to catch the occasional typo or smoothen an awkward sentence. Soon, she began to upload PPTs. Then articles to rewrite and even write. Before long, almost every piece of her work was processed by an AI chatbot before it reached another human. The shift was so gradual she barely noticed it. What she did notice, eventually, was harder to explain. “Initially I used AI to catch grammar mistakes and polish my writing,” she says. “But over time, I found myself checking stuff I would never have questioned before. Even when I knew it was right, I wanted AI to confirm it. I was experiencing severe burnout not from writing but from constantly seeking reassurance from a bot. At some point, I stopped trusting my own judgment. I realised I was burned out by answers.” The shape of the crisis is almost philosophical. Humans built machines to do more of the thinking so that we might have more room to be human: to reflect, create, connect, rest.
Instead, we have placed ourselves in the loop of machines that never rest, demanding that we match their pace, verify their work, and keep them calibrated. We have made ourselves the quality-control department for an intelligence that does not tire.
Hundreds of kilometres away from Delhi, in Jaipur, first-year school teacher Navya Bhatnagar found herself facing a different version of the same dilemma. She had entered the profession hoping to develop her own teaching style, experimenting with lesson plans and discovering what worked in her classroom and what didn’t. Instead, almost every lesson of hers began making a detour through AI. It certainly saved her time, but it also left her wondering whether she was relying on AI because it genuinely improved her work or because she had stopped trusting her instincts. The questions from her students only made that uncertainty louder. “They ask me, ‘Ma’am, how will we stay relevant if AI can do everything?’ AI burnout isn’t just about using new tools. It’s the constant pressure to keep up while wondering if you’re still enough.”
Kerala-based researchers at Marian College Kuttikkanam, published in Frontiers in Psychology (April 2025), which examines AI’s impact in educational settings explored “the cognitive paradox of AI in education: between enhancement and erosion”. It argues that while AI-based adaptive learning systems can improve outcomes, they simultaneously question cognitive development, particularly in critical thinking, problem-solving, and autonomous learning. The resonance with workplace dynamics is unmistakable.
There is a Fear Economy at Work
A Boston Consulting Group study titled Four Keys to Boosting Inclusion and Beating Burnout found that 58 per cent of India’s workforce is burnt out: 10 per cent worse than the global average of 48 per cent. Australia trailed at 53 per cent; Japan and Germany registered significantly lower rates. India did not have a burnout problem when AI arrived. The first and most documented dimension of AI-related distress in India is not AI burnout, but the worker’s chronic anticipatory anxiety that fears being replaced by it. In an IIM Ahmedabad study of white-collar workers, 55 per cent have adopted AI tools; 48 per cent have received some training, and a huge 68 per cent fear their jobs could be partially or fully automated within five years. A further 40 per cent believe their current skills will become redundant. Among millennials specifically, a report by Great Place To Work India found that nearly 49 per cent fear AI-driven job replacement, making it a persistent undercurrent in their working lives. Data released by Astrotalk in December 2025 revealed that career-related anxiety rose by 50 per cent in 2025, with “Is AI going to take my job?” becoming the single most common question on the platform. New surveys indicate that 96 per cent of Indian professionals use AI or generative AI tools in their work, and 94 per cent perceive that mastering these technologies is essential for career progression. Many of them, however, are deeply concerned about potential job displacement if they do not upskill fast enough. The result is a peculiar double bind: workers must adopt the tools they fear in order to protect themselves from those very tools.
Psychologists have a name for what Indian IT workers are experiencing: technostress. A peer-reviewed study published in the International Journal of Indian Psychology found that negative perceptions of AI around job insecurity and task complexity were directly associated with higher stress levels across IT, finance, and education sectors. India’s IT sector shed between 25,000 and 30,000 positions in 2025, with companies citing AI-driven realignment. The emotional toll of the AI transition in India is registering most acutely among younger workers. A 2024 Emotional Wellness State of Employees Report from the wellness platform YourDOST found that 64 per cent of employees aged 21 to 30 are battling high stress levels; a 31 per cent year-on-year increase. Among women, it is 72.2 per cent. India’s Corporate Health Study (2026) found, only 11 per cent of organisations use predictive analytics to monitor workforce health, and the concept of tracking ‘Psychological Safety Scores’ is largely aspirational. The infrastructure for addressing this crisis, in other words, is as underdeveloped as the crisis itself is developing exponentially.
The Digital Wellbeing Gap is Fuelling Unhealthy Choices
Now many Indian enterprises are accelerating AI adoption, cloud transformation, and hybrid work models. The average Indian employee already works 46.7 hours a week, significantly higher than the global ILO average. The new employment crisis worldwide is job loss to AI—both white and blue collar. The Indian IT office model is built on thousands of junior employees doing manual ‘grunt work’, to support the small top management. Now, systemic inefficiencies are being mended using AI. In April 2026 alone, Oracle, which has shifted much of its ops to AI, reportedly sacked 12,000 employees in India. TCS made 12,000 jobs redundant. Cognizant, Freshworks, and SuperOps are choosing lean, mean teams driven by AI. But AI may not always have the right answer. Ford has rehired more than 300 veteran quality engineers after discovering that AI systems could not fully match the expertise and judgement of experienced human inspectors. The company said it had underestimated the value of seasoned engineers whose experience across multiple product cycles proved difficult to replicate with AI. But as most companies still move to AI, employment anxiety is on the rise. This is a cause for concern, given India’s mental health infrastructure is too thin. The corporate sector’s response is wellness apps and stipends; all of which global research has shown to be inadequate.
In a survey-based study of 1,488 full-time US-located workers, researchers identified a phenomenon they labelled “AI brain fry”. Its definition was the mental fatigue caused by excessive use of AI tools beyond the user’s cognitive capacity. Some participants reported a persistent mental fog, while their decision-making faculty slowed. Some even got persistent headaches. A Harvard Business Review study of nearly 1,500 full-time AI users found that AI burnout happens not just because of task volumes, but also the worker’s need to continuously evaluate, verify, and refine AI-generated outputs. This leaves them in a perennial state of cerebral engagement. Many workers confess they are mentally crowded despite having more tools to use at work than ever. They struggle to sustain attention, second-guess decisions they once made confidently; how they log into AI before attempting to find solutions on their own. At the same time, the rapid cycle of prompts and instant responses continually stimulates the brain’s reward system, particularly dopamine pathways, conditioning us to expect immediate feedback. Over time, this low-effort, high-frequency stimulation may make slower, effortful thinking feel unusually taxing. The end result is a brain that tires more quickly, struggles with uncertainty and increasingly seeks external validation. Add the low-level stress of constant digital engagement which can elevate cortisol levels: the more mentally fatigued we feel, the more we lean on AI, and the more difficult independent thinking seems.
Digital Dependency is a Paradox
Every prompt on an AI app promises clarity. Every answer appears helpful. Every shortcut seems to save time. Until one day, the hardest question isn’t what to ask AI. It’s whether you’ve forgotten how to trust your own answer. Take the case of Appurva Pandey, 38, who lives in Mumbai and spent more time planning her daughter’s life than actually experiencing it. At first she turned to AI for practical help, meal plans, weekend activities, sleep schedules, educational games. Suggestions kept coming. What began as convenience slowly turned into a habit. “At some point, I realised I was spending more time improving my life than living it,” she says. That feeling sits at the heart of AI burnout. Not exhaustion from work, but the exhaustion from constant optimisation. Researchers at Microsoft and Carnegie Mellon University say the more humans lean on AI to complete their tasks, the more their critical thinking abilities shrink. HR professional Ahana Walawalkar from Mumbai has lost count of the number of AI tools people tell her they’re trying to master. She interviews candidates across industries, and lately, has noticed a familiar anxiety creeping into almost every conversation. It isn’t that workers dislike technology or resist change. They are racing to learn every new chatbot, image generator, coding assistant and productivity app, terrified that missing the next breakthrough will make them unemployable. “They’re afraid that no matter how much they learn, it will never be enough. That’s AI burnout,” she says.
Bengaluru-based software engineer Rohan MK and Mumbai-based marketing executive Priya Khanna say AI entered their workplaces as a productivity tool but quickly became an expectation. Today, their workdays involve switching between ChatGPT, GitHub Copilot, image generators, and internal AI assistants, not just to complete tasks faster but to keep pace with the relentless stream of new tools. “Earlier, I was judged on how well I solved a problem. Now I’m expected to deliver in half the time because everyone assumes AI is doing the heavy lifting,” says Rohan. Khanna echoes the sentiment: “Every week there’s a new tool everyone says you must know. You feel guilty if you’re not using the latest one.” Both admit that instead of reducing mental effort, AI has created decision fatigue. The result, they say, is a growing sense of burnout and a nagging fear that constant dependence on AI may be dulling the very analytical and creative skills that made them valuable in the first place.
Brains are being fried not just at work. The burnout of Mumbai-based Meeta Shukla, a 45-year-old chartered accountant, arrived much more quietly. It began with her daughter, Jwisha. Questions that once were discussed and debated at the dining table—about homework, science facts or random curiosities—now went straight to an AI app. Meeta admired Jwisha’s instinctive embrace of the technology. “I’m proud of how naturally she embraces technology, but I also found myself staying up late, reading about AI to keep up with her. It took me a while to realise I wasn't learning out of curiosity anymore; I was learning out of fear,” she says.
AI burnout comes not from producing information, but from constantly processing it. Every prompt produces possibilities. Every answer comes with alternatives. Every recommendation invites another question. But the brain is no longer spending energy just searching for information. It is deciding what to do with an endless supply of information. Psychologists describe this as cognitive overload, a state where the volume of information exceeds our ability to comfortably process it. “I believe we are already seeing signs of a shift from physical exhaustion to cognitive and emotional saturation,” says counselling psychologist Pranati Kapoor. Researchers are beginning to see evidence of this shift. One of the most discussed studies comes from MIT Media Lab, where brain activity of 54 participants aged 18 to 39 were monitored as they completed essay-writing tasks using either ChatGPT or Google Search, and without digital assistance. ChatGPT users demonstrated weaker memory recall. Counselling psychologist Dr Shiromi Chaturvedi says, “Research shows our brains need time to transition between tasks. AI allows us to switch contexts almost instantly, but our nervous systems operate differently. The end result is to feel being mentally scattered despite being technologically efficient.”
When Trusting AI is to Doubt Yourself
AI burnout is particularly visible among younger users. Deloitte’s global survey found Gen Z and millennials are deeply focused on skill development and staying relevant in a rapidly changing workplace. Another study found 56 per cent of Gen Z workers use AI to find ways to communicate with a boss or colleague. Psychologists say users are beginning to outsource something deeper than doing tasks. They are outsourcing confidence. A grammar check becomes a second opinion. A second opinion becomes validation. Over time, this habit can make people less certain about their own instincts, even in situations where they already know the answer. Says Kapoor, “In some cases, AI can become a psychological buffer between a person and an uncomfortable experience. Instead of having a difficult conversation, tolerating uncertainty, or sitting with painful emotions, people may turn to AI for immediate answers, reassurance, validation, or emotional processing.” For Mumbai banker Shraddha Awasthi, the algorithmic shift was gradual. AI initially helped her structure emails and presentations. Soon, she used AI to navigate disagreements at work, family conversations and personal decisions. “It felt helpful at first, but after a while, I realised I was checking AI before trusting myself,” she says.
Psychologists have long argued that boredom serves an important purpose. It drives the brain to process experiences, reflect, daydream and make unexpected connections. Creativity often emerges not while actively searching for answers but while the mind is allowed to wander. Kapoor says, “Growth requires reflection, patience, and sometimes simply sitting with not knowing.” AI short-circuits some of that process. The space between question and answer, where reflection often happens, keeps shrinking. For Mohd Harshad, a software developer and content creator in Bengaluru, it wasn’t the answers. It was the feeling that there were too many of them. “Every week there seems to be a new model, a new tool, a new update. You start feeling like you’re always behind.” Researchers describe this phenomenon as a form of information overload. The challenge is no longer accessing knowledge, but deciding what deserves attention. The result is a strange contradiction. Technologies designed to create more time often leave people feeling as though they have less mental space. Dr Shiromi Chaturvedi believes this constant state of engagement comes at a cost. “Our brains need periods of rest and transition,” she says. Every generation inherits a tool that changes how people think. Calculators reduced the need for mental arithmetic. GPS changed how people navigate. Search engines made it unnecessary to remember endless facts. AI is obviously different. For Shagun Pandey, a designer, the shift happened gradually. “It started with work. Then it became brainstorming, research, writing, planning and eventually almost everything.” Many experts compare excessive AI dependence to outsourcing a workout. The task gets completed, but the mental exercise never happens. Rishabh Thakur, who has spent years working in content and branding, believes a less visible consequence of AI burnout is the gradual erosion of creative confidence. “Good ideas rarely arrive fully formed in the human brain. When every challenge is immediately solved or refined by AI, people lose patience with their own thinking process,” he says. That loss of patience has consequences beyond creativity. This does not mean AI is making people less creative or less capable. Only, the role of human contribution is changing. For Mumbai-based art student Vrindali Rathod, somewhere between assignments and creative projects, AI had become her default collaborator. Every idea, every concept and every creative block was met with an instant prompt instead of a pause for reflection. “We grew up being told to think differently,” Rathod says. “Now it feels like we’re constantly being encouraged to think faster. I think that’s where AI burnout begins.”
When Burnout Moves into the Body
The brain fry may begin as a thinking problem, but it does not remain one for long. Mental fatigue has a way of showing up physically. Concentration becomes harder. Sleep becomes lighter. Small decisions begin to feel disproportionately difficult. The body starts reacting to a strain that is often difficult to identify because, on the surface, nothing appears wrong. Psychiatrist Dr Era Dutta says, “People often assume burnout only comes from overwork, but the brain can become exhausted by the constant decision-making, uncertainty and information processing.” Researchers have long understood that the brain and body do not operate separately. When mental demands remain elevated for extended periods, stress responses can become more persistent. Dr Chaturvedi believes this constant state of engagement is becoming common. “Reflection, rest and transition are not luxuries. They are part of how healthy thinking happens,” she says. A recent Nature paper describes AI burnout using the 3R Principle: Results, Responses, and Responsibility. AI can generate results, but turning those results into meaningful responses still requires human judgement, context, and experience. The responsibility remains ours.
India is among the fastest generative adopter in the world. According to OpenAI-commissioned research, around 36 per cent of Indian users turn to ChatGPT daily: more than double the global average of 17 per cent. Kashyap Vora, a senior content manager in the entertainment and PR industry in Mumbai, found the fatigue came less from generating content and more from deciding when to stop. “My biggest gripe with AI is figuring out which response is a good-enough response and where to draw the line,” he says. Unlike traditional search engines, AI systems do not simply provide information. Every answer can become another version. Every version can become another decision. Mental health researchers describe this developed as compulsive checking loops. The search for a better answer becomes rewarding in itself. “This is the core of AI fatigue. The machine does not get tired between tasks. Humans do,” says Siddhant Khare, software engineer, OpenFGA maintainer, and author of The Agentic Engineering Guide.
The concern around excessive AI dependence is not that people are becoming less intelligent. It is that they are practising certain cognitive skills less often. For most of human history, judgement was built through repetition. We wrestled with ideas, sat with uncertainty, made mistakes, changed our minds and gradually developed confidence in our ability to navigate the world. Those processes were often frustrating, but they exercised the mind. Today, many of those small acts are becoming optional. For a growing number of people, AI is becoming the mind’s narcotic—not because the technology is inherently addictive, but because it can foster habitual reliance for reassurance, decision-making and emotional validation. Mental health experts are increasingly describing this as a form of behavioural dependence, where the real concern is not diminished intelligence but the gradual erosion of independent thinking, problem-solving and tolerance for uncertainty.
The response is already taking shape. Rehabilitation centres in India have begun introducing programmes for problematic AI use, treating it much like other forms of digital dependency. At Veda Rehabilitation & Wellness, clinicians combine structured digital detox with evidence-based therapies such as Cognitive Behavioural Therapy (CBT) and Dialectical Behaviour Therapy (DBT), alongside mindfulness, family counselling and supervised reintroduction to technology. The response is not limited to private providers. While Tulasi Healthcare has expanded its behavioural addiction services to address unhealthy AI dependence, public institutions are also strengthening support for digital overuse. The Behavioural Addictions Clinic at All India Institute of Medical Sciences already treats compulsive internet, smartphone, gaming and social media use, and clinicians say these therapeutic approaches are proving equally relevant for emerging AI-related dependency. More recently, JSS Medical College & Hospital launched a Special Clinic for Behavioural Addiction & Digital Well-Being to tackle excessive technology use, reflecting growing recognition of digital and AI-related behavioural health concerns in India. Internationally, the risks are no longer hypothetical. One widely reported case is that of Joe Alary, a 57-year-old video editor from Ontario, Canada, who developed an intense emotional attachment to a customised AI chatbot after a personal crisis. He reportedly spent up to 20 hours a day interacting with it, neglected work and personal relationships, and was eventually hospitalised before beginning recovery through therapy and complete disengagement from the chatbot.
The Good, the Bad, and the Complicated
India’s AI picture is not uniformly bleak. Boston Consulting Group researchers reported that when it is used to replace repetitive tasks and routines, burnout scores were actually lower. “This highlights the subtle-but-important distinction between the types of stress that AI can alleviate and those that it may worsen,” the survey said. The problem, then, is not AI per se. It is how AI is being integrated. Is it a tool that substitutes for drudgery, or as an engine that just raises the floor of how much a single worker is expected to produce. India has its own specific vulnerabilities: a massive workforce concentrated in sectors where automation is high, and a culture of unsustainable extreme working hours, and a mental health system that has only recently begun to receive serious policy attention. The country has the capacity to reskill between eight and 10 million professionals by 2030. But talent without psychological wellbeing is talent operating below its potential. The question for India’s technology leadership, its policymakers, and its institutions is whether the human cost of AI transition at the workplace will be treated as a signal worth acting on, or just as background noise to be managed until it becomes a crisis that can no longer be ignored.
The engineers who built India’s technology century deserve better than that answer.