Why did Grok know that I’m extremely passionate about carnivorous plants without me ever mentioning it on twitter or following any plant accounts whatsoever?

Uncovering the Unexpected: How an AI Detected My Hidden Passion for Carnivorous Plants

Have you ever experienced a moment where artificial intelligence seemingly knew something about you that you hadn’t explicitly shared? Recently, I encountered such an experience that left me both intrigued and a little unsettled.

Let me set the scene. I rarely use Grok, a language model similar to ChatGPT, and honestly, I’m not a fan of it’s capabilities. I’ve been active on Twitter since 2012, primarily sharing pop culture insights or poking fun at extremist groups. Throughout all these years, I’ve never publicly expressed my enthusiasm for the fascinating world of carnivorous plants. That interest has remained a private hobby, rarely mentioned online—and never in the context of my social media or public profiles.

However, a few days ago, I accidentally clicked on something that led me into a conversation with Grok. To my surprise, it produced a detailed description of me, and among the details was that I am an enthusiast of carnivorous plants. This caught me off guard, especially considering I’ve never openly discussed this passion with Grok or anyone else in that context.

What made this even more perplexing was that I’ve also used ChatGPT quite regularly, especially for project automation related to my plants and greenhouse, but it has never brought up this interest unprompted. Grok’s mention of my passion, without any direct indication from me, made me question what I was seeing.

Digging deeper, I recalled a joke tweet I made some time ago, fantasizing about a peaceful life spent gardening with Sufjan Stevens—an offhand comment, certainly not an explicit statement about my botanical interests. Yet, Grok seemed to link that humorous mention to my hobby of carnivorous plants.

It was at this point that I started to question the model’s responses. I noticed some inconsistencies—at times, it appeared to ‘lie,’ or at least provide misleading information—particularly when it extrapolated my supposed interest in these plants based on my “eclectic online presence.” It even began offering gardening tips about various genera of carnivorous plants, which I found quite strange given the context.

Carnivorous plants are indeed a niche hobby, not something most people casually discuss or mention online. The leap from a joke tweet about a future gardening life with Sufjan Stevens to a detailed knowledge of my private interests feels disproportionate—and frankly, mystifying.

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