Clockwise from top left: Rachel Johnson, Polly Toynbee, Jeanette Winterson, Cathy Newman, Ann Widdecombe, Fiona Marr. Clockwise from top left: Rachel Johnson, Polly Toynbee, Jeanette Winterson, Cathy Newman, Ann Widdecombe, Fiona Marr. I asked AI to name my wife. Authors, a newsreader, a lawyer and an esteemed colleague: they're all great - but I'm not married to any of them. Can we really depend on this technology?

Author Jeanette Winterson has been reading and writing about artificial intelligence and its relationship to humans for years. But, as she says in the introduction to her new book, she felt like she wasn't seeing the big picture of how technology is subtly changing human relationships. Her book, a collection of essays called "12 Bytes: How We Got Here. Where We Might Go Next," explores these themes. Winterson goes back to the first computers of the Industrial Revolution and imagines how AI will shape our love and sex lives in the future.

"It was uproar," she says, "We saw cars on fire." Her flat is in the East End district of Spitalfields in a Georgian house, which she bought 25 years ago, complete with a little shop that she ran for years as an organic grocer and tea room until the rates got too high, and she let it out to an upmarket chocolatier. It's as if a scene from Dickens's The Old Curiosity Shop has been dropped into a satire about prosperity Britain: the quaint old shopfront is still intact, while outside it a lifesize sculpture of a rowing boat full of people sits surreally in the middle of the street, and a little further along, a herd of large bronze elephants frolics. These public artworks only arrived a few weeks ago, Winterson explains, as part of a grand plan to pedestrianise the area, and make it more buzzy, just at the moment that the sort of well-heeled office workers who bought upmarket chocolates are abandoning it owing to the Covid pandemic. We're at a transitional moment in so many ways, she says – a perfect moment to launch a book that reassesses the past while staring the future in the face.