SmarterArticles

Keeping the Human in the Loop

The promise was elegant in its simplicity: AI agents that could work on complex software projects for hours, reasoning through problems, writing code, and iterating toward solutions without constant human supervision. The reality, as thousands of development teams have discovered, involves a phenomenon that researchers have begun calling “context rot,” a gradual degradation of performance that occurs as these agents accumulate more information than they can effectively process. And the strategies emerging to combat this problem reveal a fascinating tension between computational efficiency and code quality that is reshaping how organisations think about AI-assisted development.

In December 2025, researchers at JetBrains presented findings at the NeurIPS Deep Learning for Code workshop that challenged prevailing assumptions about how to manage this problem. Their paper, “The Complexity Trap,” demonstrated that sophisticated LLM-based summarisation techniques, the approach favoured by leading AI coding tools like Cursor and OpenHands, performed no better than a far simpler strategy: observation masking. This technique simply replaces older tool outputs with placeholder text indicating that content has been omitted for brevity, while preserving the agent's reasoning and action history in full.

The implications are significant. A simple environment observation masking strategy halves cost relative to running an agent without any context management, while matching or slightly exceeding the task completion rate of complex LLM summarisation. The researchers found that combining both approaches yielded additional cost reductions of 7% compared to observation masking alone and 11% compared to summarisation alone. These findings suggest that the industry's rush toward ever more sophisticated context compression may be solving the wrong problem.

The Anatomy of Forgetting

To understand why AI coding agents struggle with extended tasks, you need to grasp how context windows function. Every interaction, every file read, every test result, and every debugging session accumulates in what functions as the agent's working memory. Modern frontier models can process 200,000 tokens or more, with some supporting context windows exceeding one million tokens. Google's Gemini models offer input windows large enough to analyse entire books or multi-file repositories in a single session.

But raw capacity tells only part of the story. Research from Chroma Labs has verified a troubling pattern: models that perform brilliantly on focused inputs show consistent performance degradation when processing full, lengthy contexts. In February 2025, researchers at Adobe tested models on what they called a more difficult variant of the needle-in-a-haystack test. The challenge required not just locating a fact buried in lengthy text, but making an inference based on that fact. Leading models achieved over 90% accuracy on short prompts. In 32,000-token prompts, accuracy dropped dramatically.

The Chroma research revealed several counterintuitive findings. Models perform worse when the surrounding context preserves a logical flow of ideas. Shuffled text, with its lack of coherent structure, consistently outperformed logically organised content across all 18 tested models. The researchers found that Claude models exhibited the lowest hallucination rates and tended to abstain when uncertain. GPT models showed the highest hallucination rates, often generating confident but incorrect responses when distracting information was present. Qwen models degraded steadily but held up better in larger versions. Gemini stood out for starting to make errors earlier with wild variations, but Claude models decayed the slowest overall.

No model is immune to this decay. The difference is merely how quickly and dramatically each degrades.

Two Philosophies of Context Management

The industry has coalesced around two primary approaches to managing this degradation, each embodying fundamentally different philosophies about what information matters and how to preserve it.

Observation masking targets the environment observations specifically, the outputs from tools like file readers, test runners, and search functions, while preserving the agent's reasoning and action history in full. The JetBrains research notes that observation tokens make up around 84% of an average SWE-agent turn. This approach recognises that the most verbose and often redundant content comes not from the agent's own thinking but from the systems it interacts with. By replacing older tool outputs with simple placeholders like “Previous 8 lines omitted for brevity,” teams can dramatically reduce context consumption without losing the thread of what the agent was trying to accomplish.

LLM summarisation takes a more comprehensive approach, compressing entire conversation histories into condensed representations. This theoretically allows infinite scaling of turns without an infinitely scaling context, as the summarisation can be repeated whenever limits approach. The yellow-framed square in architectural diagrams represents the summary of previous turns, a distillation that attempts to preserve essential information while discarding redundancy.

The trade-offs between these approaches illuminate deeper tensions in AI system design. Summarisation adds computational overhead, with summarisation calls accounting for up to 7% of total inference cost for strong models according to JetBrains' analysis. More concerning, summaries can mask failure signals, causing agents to persist in unproductive loops because the compressed history no longer contains the specific error messages or dead-end approaches that would otherwise signal the need to change direction.

Factory AI's research on context compression evaluation identified specific failure modes that emerge when information is lost during compression. Agents forget which files they have modified. They lose track of what approaches they have already tried. They cannot recall the reasoning behind past decisions. They forget the original error messages or technical details that motivated particular solutions. Without tracking artefacts, an agent might re-read files it already examined, make conflicting edits, or lose track of test results. A casual conversation can afford to forget earlier topics. A coding agent that forgets it modified auth.controller.ts will produce inconsistent work.

The Recursive Summarisation Problem

Sourcegraph's Amp coding agent recently retired its compaction feature in favour of a new approach called “handoff.” The change came after the team observed what happens when summarisation becomes recursive, when the system creates summaries of summaries as sessions extend.

Among several findings, the Codex team had noted that its automated compaction system, which summarised a session and restarted it whenever the model's context window neared its limit, was contributing to a gradual decline in performance over time. As sessions accumulated more compaction events, accuracy fell, and recursive summaries began to distort earlier reasoning.

Handoff works differently. Rather than automatically compressing everything when limits approach, it allows developers to specify a goal for the next task, whereupon the system analyses the current thread and extracts relevant information into a fresh context. This replaces the cycle of compression and re-summarisation with a cleaner break between phases of work, carrying forward only what still matters for the next stage.

This architectural shift reflects a broader recognition that naive optimisation for compression ratio, minimising tokens per request, often increases total tokens per task. When agents lose critical context, they must re-fetch files, re-read documentation, and re-explore previously rejected approaches. Factory AI's evaluation found that one provider achieved 99.3% compression but scored lower on quality metrics. The lost details required costly re-fetching that exceeded token savings.

The Technical Debt Accelerator

The context management problem intersects with a broader quality crisis in AI-assisted development. GitClear's second-annual AI Copilot Code Quality research analysed 211 million changed lines of code from 2020 to 2024 across a combined dataset of anonymised private repositories and 25 of the largest open-source projects. The findings paint a troubling picture.

GitClear reported an eightfold increase in code blocks containing five or more duplicated lines compared to just two years earlier. This points to a surge in copy-paste practices, with duplication becoming ten times more common. The percentage of code changes classified as “moved” or “refactored,” the signature of code reuse, declined dramatically from 24.1% in 2020 to just 9.5% in 2024. Meanwhile, lines classified as copy-pasted or cloned rose from 8.3% to 12.3% in the same period.

Code churn, which measures code that is added and then quickly modified or deleted, is climbing steadily, projected to hit nearly 7% by 2025. This metric signals instability and rework. Bill Harding, GitClear's CEO and founder, explains the dynamic: “AI has this overwhelming tendency to not understand what the existing conventions are within a repository. And so it is very likely to come up with its own slightly different version of how to solve a problem.”

API evangelist Kin Lane offered a stark assessment: “I don't think I have ever seen so much technical debt being created in such a short period of time during my 35-year career in technology.” This observation captures the scale of the challenge. AI coding assistants excel at adding code quickly but lack the contextual awareness to reuse existing solutions or maintain architectural consistency.

The Google 2025 DORA Report found that a 90% increase in AI adoption was associated with an estimated 9% climb in bug rates, a 91% increase in code review time, and a 154% increase in pull request size. Despite perceived productivity gains, the majority of developers actually spend more time debugging AI-generated code than they did before adopting these tools.

Anthropic's Systematic Approach

In September 2025, Anthropic announced new context management capabilities that represent perhaps the most systematic approach to this problem. The introduction of context editing and memory tools addressed both the immediate challenge of context exhaustion and the longer-term problem of maintaining knowledge across sessions.

Context editing automatically clears stale tool calls and results from within the context window when approaching token limits. As agents execute tasks and accumulate tool results, context editing removes obsolete content while preserving the conversation flow. In a 100-turn web search evaluation, context editing enabled agents to complete workflows that would otherwise fail due to context exhaustion, while reducing token consumption by 84%.

The memory tool enables Claude to store and consult information outside the context window through a file-based system. The agent can create, read, update, and delete files in a dedicated memory directory stored in the user's infrastructure, persisting across conversations. This allows agents to build knowledge bases over time, maintain project state across sessions, and reference previous learnings without keeping everything in active context.

Anthropic's internal benchmarks highlight the impact. Using both the memory tool and context editing together delivers a 39% boost in agent performance on complex, multi-step tasks. Even using context editing alone delivers a notable 29% improvement.

The company's engineering guidance emphasises that context must be treated as a finite resource with diminishing marginal returns. Like humans, who have limited working memory capacity, LLMs have an “attention budget” that they draw on when parsing large volumes of context. Every new token introduced depletes this budget by some amount, increasing the need to carefully curate the tokens available to the model.

Extended Thinking and Deliberate Reasoning

Beyond context management, Anthropic has introduced extended thinking capabilities that enable more sophisticated reasoning for complex tasks. Extended thinking gives Claude enhanced reasoning capabilities by allowing it to output its internal reasoning process before delivering a final answer. The budget_tokens parameter determines the maximum number of tokens the model can use for this internal reasoning.

This capability enhances performance significantly. Anthropic reports a 54% improvement in complex coding challenges when extended thinking is enabled. In general, accuracy on mathematical and analytical problems improves logarithmically with the number of “thinking tokens” allowed.

For agentic workflows, Claude 4 models support interleaved thinking, which enables the model to reason between tool calls and make more sophisticated decisions after receiving tool results. This allows for more complex agentic interactions where the model can reason about the results of a tool call before deciding what to do next, chain multiple tool calls with reasoning steps in between, and make more nuanced decisions based on intermediate results.

The recommendation for developers is to use specific phrases to trigger additional computation time. “Think” triggers basic extended thinking. “Think hard,” “think harder,” and “ultrathink” map to increasing levels of thinking budget. These modes give the model additional time to evaluate alternatives more thoroughly, reducing the need for iterative correction that would otherwise consume context window space.

The Rise of Sub-Agent Architectures

Beyond compression and editing, a more fundamental architectural pattern has emerged for managing context across extended tasks: the sub-agent or multi-agent architecture. Rather than one agent attempting to maintain state across an entire project, specialised sub-agents handle focused tasks with clean context windows. The main agent coordinates with a high-level plan while sub-agents perform deep technical work. Each sub-agent might explore extensively, using tens of thousands of tokens or more, but returns only a condensed, distilled summary of its work.

Gartner reported a staggering 1,445% surge in multi-agent system enquiries from Q1 2024 to Q2 2025, signalling a shift in how systems are designed. Rather than deploying one large LLM to handle everything, leading organisations are implementing orchestrators that coordinate specialist agents. A researcher agent gathers information. A coder agent implements solutions. An analyst agent validates results. This pattern mirrors how human teams operate, with each agent optimised for specific capabilities rather than being a generalist.

Context engineering becomes critical in these architectures. Multi-agent systems fail when context becomes polluted. If every sub-agent shares the same context, teams pay a massive computational penalty and confuse the model with irrelevant details. The recommended approach treats shared context as an expensive dependency to be minimised. For discrete tasks with clear inputs and outputs, a fresh sub-agent spins up with its own context, receiving only the specific instruction. Full memory and context history are shared only when the sub-agent must understand the entire trajectory of the problem.

Google's Agent Development Kit documentation distinguishes between global context (the ultimate goal, user preferences, and project history) and local context (the specific sub-task at hand). Effective engineering ensures that a specialised agent, such as a code reviewer, receives only a distilled contextual packet relevant to its task, rather than being burdened with irrelevant data from earlier phases.

Sub-agents get their own fresh context, completely separate from the main conversation. Their work does not bloat the primary context. When finished, they return a summary. This isolation is why sub-agents help with long sessions. Claude Code can spawn sub-agents, which allows it to split up tasks. Teams can also create custom sub-agents to have more control, allowing for context management and prompt shortcuts.

When Compression Causes Agents to Forget Critical Details

The specific failure modes that emerge when context compression loses information have direct implications for code quality and system reliability. Factory AI's research designed a probe-based evaluation that directly measures functional quality after compression. The approach is straightforward: after compression, ask the agent questions that require remembering specific details from the truncated history. If the compression preserved the right information, the agent answers correctly.

All tested methods struggled particularly with artefact tracking, scoring only 2.19 to 2.45 out of 5.0 on this dimension. When agents forget which files they have modified, they re-read previously examined code and make conflicting edits. Technical detail degradation varied more widely, with Factory's approach scoring 4.04 on accuracy while OpenAI's achieved only 3.43. Agents that lose file paths, error codes, and function names become unable to continue work effectively.

Context drift presents another challenge. Compression approaches that regenerate summaries from scratch lose task state across cycles. Approaches that anchor iterative updates preserve context better by making incremental modifications rather than full regeneration.

The October 2025 Acon framework from Chinese researchers attempts to address these challenges through dynamic condensation of environment observations and interaction histories. Rather than handcrafting prompts for compression, Acon introduces a guideline optimisation pipeline that refines compressor prompts via failure analysis, ensuring that critical environment-specific and task-relevant information is retained. The approach is gradient-free, requiring no parameter updates, making it usable with closed-source or production models.

The Productivity Paradox

These technical challenges intersect with a broader paradox that has emerged in AI-assisted development. Research reveals AI coding assistants increase developer output but not company productivity. This disconnect sits at the heart of the productivity paradox being discussed across the industry.

The researchers at METR conducted what may be the most rigorous study of AI coding tool impact on experienced developers. They recruited 16 experienced developers from large open-source repositories averaging over 22,000 stars and one million lines of code, projects that developers had contributed to for multiple years. Each developer provided lists of real issues, totalling 246 tasks, that would be valuable to the repository: bug fixes, features, and refactors that would normally be part of their regular work.

The finding shocked the industry. When developers were randomly assigned to use AI tools, they took 19% longer to complete tasks than when working without them. Before the study, developers had predicted AI would speed them up by 24%. After experiencing the actual slowdown, they still believed it had helped, estimating a 20% improvement. The objective measurement showed the opposite.

The researchers found that developers accepted less than 44% of AI generations. This relatively low acceptance rate resulted in wasted time, as developers often had to review, test, and modify code, only to reject it in the end. Even when suggestions were accepted, developers reported spending considerable time reviewing and editing the code to meet their high standards.

According to Stack Overflow's 2025 Developer Survey, only 16.3% of developers said AI made them more productive to a great extent. The largest group, 41.4%, said it had little or no effect. Telemetry from over 10,000 developers confirms this pattern: AI adoption consistently skews toward newer hires who use these tools to navigate unfamiliar code, while more experienced engineers remain sceptical.

The pattern becomes clearer when examining developer experience levels. AI can get you 70% of the way, but the last 30% is the hard part. For juniors, 70% feels magical. For seniors, the last 30% is often slower than writing it clean from the start.

The Human Oversight Imperative

The Ox Security report, titled “Army of Juniors: The AI Code Security Crisis,” identified ten architecture and security anti-patterns commonly found in AI-generated code. According to Veracode's 2025 GenAI Code Security Report, which analysed code produced by over 100 LLMs across 80 real-world coding tasks, AI introduces security vulnerabilities in 45% of cases.

Some programming languages proved especially problematic. Java had the highest failure rate, with LLM-generated code introducing security flaws more than 70% of the time. Python, C#, and JavaScript followed with failure rates between 38 and 45%. LLMs also struggled with specific vulnerability types. 86% of code samples failed to defend against cross-site scripting, and 88% were vulnerable to log injection attacks.

This limitation means that even perfectly managed context cannot substitute for human architectural oversight. The Qodo State of AI Code Quality report found that missing context was the top issue developers face, reported by 65% during refactoring and approximately 60% during test generation and code review. Only 3.8% of developers report experiencing both low hallucination rates and high confidence in shipping AI-generated code without human review.

Nearly one-third of all improvement requests in Qodo's survey were about making AI tools more aware of the codebase, team norms, and project structure. Hallucinations and quality issues often stem from poor contextual awareness. When AI suggestions ignore team patterns, architecture, or naming conventions, developers end up rewriting or rejecting the code, even if it is technically correct.

Architectural Decision-Making Remains Human Territory

AI coding agents are very good at getting to correct code, but they perform poorly at making correct design and architecture decisions independently. If allowed to proceed without oversight, they will write correct code but accrue technical debt very quickly.

The European Union's AI Act, with high-risk provisions taking effect in August 2026 and penalties reaching 35 million euros or 7% of global revenue, demands documented governance. AI governance committees have become standard in mid-to-large enterprises, with structured intake processes covering security, privacy, legal compliance, and model risk.

The OWASP GenAI Security Project released the Top 10 for Agentic Applications in December 2025, reflecting input from over 100 security researchers, industry practitioners, and technology providers. Agentic systems introduce new failure modes, including tool misuse, prompt injection, and data leakage. OWASP 2025 includes a specific vulnerability criterion addressing the risk when developers download and use components from untrusted sources. This takes on new meaning when AI coding assistants, used by 91% of development teams according to JetBrains' 2025 survey, are recommending packages based on training data that is three to six months old at minimum.

BCG's research on human oversight emphasises that generative AI presents risks, but human review is often undermined by automation bias, escalation roadblocks, and evaluations based on intuition rather than guidelines. Oversight works when organisations integrate it into product design rather than appending it at launch, and pair it with other components like testing and evaluation.

Emerging Patterns for Production Systems

The architectural patterns emerging to address these challenges share several common elements. First, they acknowledge that human oversight is not optional but integral to the development workflow. Second, they implement tiered review processes that route different types of changes to different levels of scrutiny. Third, they maintain explicit documentation that persists outside the agent's context window.

The recommended approach involves creating a context directory containing specialised documents: a Project Brief for core goals and scope, Product Context for user experience workflows and business logic, System Patterns for architecture decisions and component relationships, Tech Context for the technology stack and dependencies, and Progress Tracking for working features and known issues.

This Memory Bank approach addresses the fundamental limitation that AI assistants lose track of architectural decisions, coding patterns, and overall project structure as project complexity increases. By maintaining explicit documentation that gets fed into every AI interaction, teams can maintain consistency even as AI generates new code.

The human role in this workflow resembles a navigator in pair programming. The navigator directs overall development strategy, makes architectural decisions, and reviews AI-generated code. The AI functions as the driver, generating code implementations and suggesting refactoring opportunities. The critical insight is treating AI as a junior developer beside you: capable of producing drafts, boilerplate, and solid algorithms, but lacking the deep context of your project.

Research from METR shows AI task duration doubling every seven months, from one-hour tasks in early 2025 to eight-hour workstreams by late 2026. This trajectory intensifies both the context management challenge and the need for architectural oversight. When an eight-hour autonomous workstream fails at hour seven, the system needs graceful degradation, not catastrophic collapse.

The Hierarchy of Memory

Sophisticated context engineering now implements hierarchical memory systems that mirror human cognitive architecture. Working memory holds the last N turns of conversation verbatim. Episodic memory stores summaries of distinct past events or sessions. Semantic memory extracts facts and preferences from conversations and stores them separately for retrieval when needed.

Hierarchical summarisation compresses older conversation segments while preserving essential information. Rather than discarding old context entirely, systems generate progressively more compact summaries as information ages. Recent exchanges remain verbatim while older content gets compressed into summary form. This approach maintains conversational continuity without consuming excessive context.

Claude Code demonstrates this approach with its auto-compact feature. When a conversation nears the context limit, the system compresses hundreds of turns into a concise summary, preserving task-critical details while freeing space for new reasoning. Since version 2.0.64, compacting is instant, eliminating the previous waiting time. When auto-compact triggers, Claude Code analyses the conversation to identify key information worth preserving, creates a concise summary of previous interactions, decisions, and code changes, compacts the conversation by replacing old messages with the summary, and continues seamlessly with the preserved context.

However, the feature is not without challenges. Engineers have built in a “completion buffer” giving tasks room to finish before compaction, eliminating disruptive mid-operation interruptions. The working hypothesis is that Claude Code triggers auto-compact much earlier than before, potentially around 64-75% context usage versus the historical 90% threshold.

The emerging best practice involves using sub-agents to verify details or investigate particular questions, especially early in a conversation or task. This preserves context availability without much downside in terms of lost efficiency. Each sub-agent gets its own context window, preventing any single session from approaching limits while allowing deep investigation of specific problems.

Balancing Efficiency and Quality

The trade-offs between computational efficiency and code quality are not simply technical decisions but reflect deeper values about the role of AI in software development. Organisations that optimise primarily for token reduction may find themselves paying the cost in increased debugging time, architectural inconsistency, and security vulnerabilities. Those that invest in comprehensive context preservation may face higher computational costs but achieve more reliable outcomes.

Google's 2024 DORA report found that while AI adoption increased individual output by 21% more tasks completed and 98% more pull requests merged, organisational delivery metrics remained flat. More concerning, AI adoption correlated with a 7.2% reduction in delivery stability. The 2025 DORA report confirms this pattern persists. Speed without stability is accelerated chaos.

Forecasts predict that on this trajectory, 75% of technology leaders will face moderate to severe technical debt by 2026. The State of Software Delivery 2025 report found that despite perceived productivity gains, the majority of developers actually spend more time debugging AI-generated code. This structural debt arises because LLMs prioritise local functional correctness over global architectural coherence and long-term maintainability.

Professional developers do not vibe code. Instead, they carefully control the agents through planning and supervision. They seek a productivity boost while still valuing software quality attributes. They plan before implementing and validate all agentic outputs. They find agents suitable for well-described, straightforward tasks but not complex tasks.

The Discipline That Enables Speed

The paradox of AI-assisted development is that achieving genuine productivity gains requires slowing down in specific ways. Establishing guardrails, maintaining context documentation, implementing architectural review, and measuring beyond velocity all represent investments that reduce immediate output. Yet without these investments, the apparent gains from AI acceleration prove illusory as technical debt accumulates, architectural coherence degrades, and debugging time compounds.

The organisations succeeding with AI coding assistance share common characteristics. They maintain rigorous code review regardless of code origin. They invest in automated testing proportional to development velocity. They track quality metrics alongside throughput metrics. They train developers to evaluate AI suggestions critically rather than accepting them reflexively.

Gartner predicts that 40% of enterprise applications will embed AI agents by the end of 2026, up from less than 5% in 2025. Industry analysts project the agentic AI market will surge from 7.8 billion dollars today to over 52 billion dollars by 2030. This trajectory makes the questions of context management and human oversight not merely technical concerns but strategic imperatives.

The shift happening is fundamentally different from previous developments. Teams moved from autocomplete to conversation in 2024, from conversation to collaboration in 2025. Now they are moving from collaboration to delegation. But delegation without oversight is abdication. The agents that will succeed are those designed with human judgment as an integral component, not an afterthought.

The tools are genuinely powerful. The question is whether teams have the discipline to wield them sustainably, maintaining the context engineering and architectural oversight that transform raw capability into reliable production systems. The future belongs not to the organisations that generate the most AI-assisted code, but to those that understand when to trust the agent, when to question it, and how to ensure that forgetting does not become the defining characteristic of their development process.


References and Sources

  1. JetBrains Research, “The Complexity Trap: Simple Observation Masking Is as Efficient as LLM Summarization for Agent Context Management,” NeurIPS 2025 Deep Learning for Code Workshop (December 2025). https://arxiv.org/abs/2508.21433

  2. JetBrains Research Blog, “Cutting Through the Noise: Smarter Context Management for LLM-Powered Agents” (December 2025). https://blog.jetbrains.com/research/2025/12/efficient-context-management/

  3. Chroma Research, “Context Rot: How Increasing Input Tokens Impacts LLM Performance” (2025). https://research.trychroma.com/context-rot

  4. Anthropic, “Managing context on the Claude Developer Platform” (September 2025). https://www.anthropic.com/news/context-management

  5. Anthropic, “Effective context engineering for AI agents” (2025). https://www.anthropic.com/engineering/effective-context-engineering-for-ai-agents

  6. Anthropic, “Building with extended thinking” (2025). https://docs.claude.com/en/docs/build-with-claude/extended-thinking

  7. Factory AI, “Evaluating Context Compression for AI Agents” (2025). https://factory.ai/news/evaluating-compression

  8. Amp (Sourcegraph), “Handoff (No More Compaction)” (2025). https://ampcode.com/news/handoff

  9. METR, “Measuring the Impact of Early-2025 AI on Experienced Open-Source Developer Productivity” (July 2025). https://metr.org/blog/2025-07-10-early-2025-ai-experienced-os-dev-study/

  10. Qodo, “State of AI Code Quality Report” (2025). https://www.qodo.ai/reports/state-of-ai-code-quality/

  11. Veracode, “GenAI Code Security Report” (2025). https://www.veracode.com/blog/genai-code-security-report/

  12. Ox Security, “Army of Juniors: The AI Code Security Crisis” (2025). Referenced via InfoQ.

  13. OWASP GenAI Security Project, “Top 10 Risks and Mitigations for Agentic AI Security” (December 2025). https://genai.owasp.org/2025/12/09/owasp-genai-security-project-releases-top-10-risks-and-mitigations-for-agentic-ai-security/

  14. Google DORA, “State of DevOps Report” (2024, 2025). https://dora.dev/research/

  15. GitClear, “AI Copilot Code Quality: 2025 Data Suggests 4x Growth in Code Clones” (2025). https://www.gitclear.com/ai_assistant_code_quality_2025_research

  16. Gartner, Multi-agent system enquiry data (2024-2025). Referenced in multiple industry publications.

  17. BCG, “You Won't Get GenAI Right if Human Oversight is Wrong” (2025). https://www.bcg.com/publications/2025/wont-get-gen-ai-right-if-human-oversight-wrong

  18. JetBrains, “The State of Developer Ecosystem 2025” (2025). https://blog.jetbrains.com/research/2025/10/state-of-developer-ecosystem-2025/

  19. Stack Overflow, “2025 Developer Survey” (2025). https://survey.stackoverflow.co/2025/

  20. Google Developers Blog, “Architecting efficient context-aware multi-agent framework for production” (2025). https://developers.googleblog.com/architecting-efficient-context-aware-multi-agent-framework-for-production/

  21. Faros AI, “Best AI Coding Agents for 2026” (2026). https://www.faros.ai/blog/best-ai-coding-agents-2026

  22. Machine Learning Mastery, “7 Agentic AI Trends to Watch in 2026” (2026). https://machinelearningmastery.com/7-agentic-ai-trends-to-watch-in-2026/

  23. Arxiv, “Acon: Optimizing Context Compression for Long-horizon LLM Agents” (October 2025). https://arxiv.org/html/2510.00615v1

  24. ClaudeLog, “What is Claude Code Auto-Compact” (2025). https://claudelog.com/faqs/what-is-claude-code-auto-compact/


Tim Green

Tim Green UK-based Systems Theorist and Independent Technology Writer

Tim explores the intersections of artificial intelligence, decentralised cognition, and posthuman ethics. His work, published at smarterarticles.co.uk, challenges dominant narratives of technological progress while proposing interdisciplinary frameworks for collective intelligence and digital stewardship.

His writing has been featured on Ground News and shared by independent researchers across both academic and technological communities.

ORCID: 0009-0002-0156-9795 Email: tim@smarterarticles.co.uk

Discuss...

On 12 November 2025, UNESCO's General Conference did something unprecedented: it adopted the first global ethical framework for neurotechnology. The Recommendation on the Ethics of Neurotechnology, years in the making and drawing on more than 8,000 contributions from civil society, academia, and industry, establishes guidelines for technologies that can read, write, and modulate the human brain. It sounds like a victory for human rights in the digital age. Look closer, and the picture grows considerably more complicated.

The framework arrives at a peculiar moment. Investment in neurotechnology companies surged 700 per cent between 2014 and 2021, totalling 33.2 billion dollars according to UNESCO's own data. Brain-computer interfaces have moved from science fiction to clinical trials. Consumer devices capable of reading neural signals are sold openly online for a few hundred dollars. And the convergence of neurotechnology with artificial intelligence creates capabilities for prediction and behaviour modification that operate below the threshold of individual awareness. Against this backdrop, UNESCO has produced a document that relies entirely on voluntary national implementation, covers everything from invasive implants to wellness headbands, and establishes “mental privacy” as a human right without explaining how it will be enforced.

The question is not whether the framework represents good intentions. It clearly does. The question is whether good intentions, expressed through non-binding recommendations that countries may or may not translate into law, can meaningfully constrain technologies that are already being deployed in workplaces, schools, and consumer markets worldwide.

When Your Brain Becomes a Data Source

The neurotechnology landscape has transformed with startling speed. What began as therapeutic devices for specific medical conditions has expanded into a sprawling ecosystem of consumer products, workplace monitoring systems, and research tools. The global neurotechnology market is projected to grow from approximately 17.3 billion dollars in 2025 to nearly 53 billion dollars by 2034, according to Precedence Research, representing a compound annual growth rate exceeding 13 per cent.

Neuralink, Elon Musk's brain-computer interface company, received FDA clearance in 2023 to begin human trials. By June 2025, five individuals with severe paralysis were using Neuralink devices to control digital and physical devices with their thoughts. Musk announced that the company would begin “high-volume production” and move to “a streamlined, almost entirely automated surgical procedure” in 2026. The company extended its clinical programme into the United Kingdom, with patients at University College London Hospital and Newcastle reportedly controlling computers within hours of surgery.

Synchron, taking a less invasive approach through blood vessels rather than open-brain surgery, has developed a device that integrates Nvidia AI and the Apple Vision Pro headset. Paradromics received FDA approval in November 2025 for a clinical study evaluating speech restoration for people with paralysis. Morgan Stanley recently valued the brain-computer interface market at 400 billion dollars.

But the medical applications, however transformative, represent only part of the picture. Consumer neurotechnology has proliferated far beyond clinical settings. The Neurorights Foundation analysed the user agreements and privacy policies for 30 companies selling commercially available products and found that only one provided meaningful restrictions on how neural data could be employed or sold. Fewer than half encrypted their data or de-identified users.

Emotiv, a San Francisco-based company, sells wireless EEG headsets for around 500 dollars. The Muse headband, marketed as a meditation aid, has become one of the most popular consumer EEG devices worldwide. Companies including China's Entertech have accumulated millions of raw EEG recordings from individuals across the world, along with personal information, GPS signals, and device usage data. Their privacy policy makes plain that this information is collected and retained.

The capabilities of these devices are often underestimated. Non-invasive consumer devices measuring brain signals at the scalp can infer inner language, attention, emotion, sexual orientation, and arousal among other cognitive functions. As Marcello Ienca, Professor for Ethics of AI and Neuroscience at the Technical University of Munich and an appointed member of UNESCO's expert group, has observed: “When it comes to neurotechnology, we cannot afford this risk. This is because the brain is not just another source of information that irrigates the digital infosphere, but the organ that builds and enables our mind.”

The Centre for Future Generations reports that dedicated consumer neurotechnology firms now account for 60 per cent of the global landscape, outnumbering medical firms since 2018. Since 2010, consumer neurotechnology firms have proliferated more than four-fold compared with the previous 25 years. EEG and stimulation technologies are being embedded into wearables including headphones, earbuds, glasses, and wristbands. Consumer neurotech is shifting from a niche innovation to a pervasive feature of everyday digital ecosystems.

The UNESCO Framework's Ambitious Scope

UNESCO Director-General Audrey Azoulay described neurotechnology as a “new frontier of human progress” that demands strict ethical boundaries to protect the inviolability of the human mind. “There can be no neurodata without neurorights,” she stated when announcing the framework's development. The initiative builds on UNESCO's earlier work establishing a global framework on the ethics of artificial intelligence in 2021, positioning the organisation at the forefront of emerging technology governance.

The Recommendation that emerged from extensive consultation covers an extraordinarily broad range of technologies and applications. It addresses invasive devices requiring neurosurgery alongside consumer headbands. It covers medical applications with established regulatory pathways and wellness products operating in what researchers describe as an “essentially unregulated consumer marketplace.” It encompasses direct neural measurements and, significantly, the inferences that can be drawn from other biometric data.

This last point deserves attention. A September 2024 paper in the journal Neuron, co-authored by Nita Farahany of Duke University (who co-chaired UNESCO's expert group alongside French neuroscientist Hervé Chneiweiss), Patrick Magee, and Ienca, introduced the concept of “cognitive biometric data.” The paper defines this as “neural data, as well as other data collected from a given individual or group of individuals through other biometric and biosensor data,” which can “be processed and used to infer mental states.”

This definition extends protection beyond direct measurements of nervous system activity to include data from biosensors like heart rate monitors and eye trackers that can be processed to reveal cognitive and emotional states. The distinction matters because current privacy laws often protect direct neural data while leaving significant gaps for inferred mental states. Many consumers are entirely unaware that the fitness wearable on their wrist might be generating data that reveals far more about their mental state than their step count.

The UNESCO framework attempts to address this convergence. It calls for neural data to be classified as sensitive personal information. It prohibits coercive data practices, including conditioning access to services on neural data provision. It establishes strict workplace restrictions, requiring that neurotechnology use be strictly voluntary and opt-in, explicitly prohibiting its use for performance evaluation or punitive measures. It demands specific safeguards against algorithmic bias, cybersecurity threats, and manipulation arising from the combination of neurotechnology with artificial intelligence.

For children and young people, whose developing brains make them particularly susceptible, the framework advises against non-therapeutic use entirely. It establishes mental privacy as fundamental to personal identity and agency, defending individuals from manipulation and surveillance.

These are substantive provisions. They would, if implemented, significantly constrain how neurotechnology can be deployed. The operative phrase, however, is “if implemented.”

The Voluntary Implementation Problem

UNESCO recommendations are not binding international law. They represent what international lawyers call “soft law,” embodying political and moral authority without legal force. Member states must report on measures they have adopted, but the examination of such reports operates through institutional mechanisms that have limited capacity to compel compliance.

The precedent here is instructive. UNESCO's 2021 Recommendation on the Ethics of Artificial Intelligence was adopted by all 193 member states. It represented a historic agreement on fundamental values, principles, and policies for AI development. The Recommendation was celebrated as a landmark achievement in global technology governance. Three years later, implementation remains partial and uneven.

UNESCO developed a Readiness Assessment Methodology (RAM) to help countries assess their preparedness to implement the AI ethics recommendation. By 2025, this process had been piloted in approximately 60 countries. That represents meaningful progress, but also reveals the gap between adoption and implementation. A 2024 RAM analysis identified compliance and governance gaps in 78 per cent of participating nations. The organisation states it is “helping over 80 countries translate these principles into national law,” but helping is not the same as compelling.

The challenge grows more acute when considering that the countries most likely to adopt protective measures face potential competitive disadvantage. Nations that move quickly to implement strong neurotechnology regulation may find their industries at a disadvantage compared to jurisdictions that prioritise speed-to-market over safeguards.

This dynamic is familiar from other technology governance contexts. International political economy scholars have documented the phenomenon of regulatory competition, where jurisdictions lower standards to attract investment and economic activity. While some research questions whether this “race to the bottom” actually materialises in practice, the concern remains that strict unilateral regulation can create competitive pressures that undermine its own objectives.

China, for instance, has identified brain-computer interface technology as a strategic priority. The country's BCI industry reached 3.2 billion yuan (approximately 446 million dollars) in 2024, with projections showing growth to 5.58 billion yuan by 2027. Beijing's roadmap aims for BCI breakthroughs by 2027 and a globally competitive ecosystem by 2030. The Chinese government integrates its BCI initiatives into five-year innovation plans supported by multiple ministries, financing research whilst aligning universities, hospitals, and industry players under unified targets. While China has issued ethical guidelines for BCI research through the Ministry of Science and Technology in February 2024, analysis suggests the country currently has no legislative plan specifically for neurotechnology and may rely on interpretations of existing legal systems rather than bespoke neural data protection.

The United States presents a different challenge: regulatory fragmentation. As of mid-2025, four states had enacted laws regarding neural data. California amended its Consumer Privacy Act to classify neural data as sensitive personal information, effective January 2025. Colorado's law treats neural information as sensitive data and casts the widest net, safeguarding both direct measurements from the nervous system and algorithm-generated inferences like mood predictions. Minnesota has proposed standalone legislation that would apply to both private and governmental entities, prohibiting government entities from collecting brain data without informed consent and from interfering with individuals' decision-making when engaging with neurotechnology.

But this patchwork approach creates its own problems. US Senators have proposed the Management of Individuals' Neural Data Act (MIND Act), which would direct the Federal Trade Commission to study neural data practices and develop a blueprint for comprehensive national legislation. The very existence of such a proposal underscores the absence of federal standards. Meanwhile, at least 15 additional neural data privacy bills are pending in state legislatures across the country, each with different definitions, scopes, and enforcement mechanisms.

Into this regulatory patchwork, UNESCO offers guidelines that nations may or may not adopt, that may or may not be implemented effectively, and that may or may not prove enforceable even where adopted.

Chile's Test Case and Its Limits

Chile offers the most developed test case for how neurorights might work in practice. In October 2021, Chile became the first country to include neurorights in its constitution, enshrining mental privacy and integrity as fundamental rights. The legislation aimed to give personal brain data the same status as an organ, making it impossible to buy, sell, traffic, or manipulate.

In August 2023, Chile's Supreme Court issued a landmark ruling against Emotiv concerning neural data collected through the company's Insight device. Senator Guido Girardi Lavin had alleged that his brain data was insufficiently protected, arguing that Emotiv did not offer adequate privacy protections since users could only access or own their neural data by purchasing a paid licence. The Court found that Emotiv violated constitutional rights to physical and psychological integrity as well as privacy, ordering the company to delete all of Girardi's personal data.

The ruling was reported as a landmark decision for neurorights, the first time a court had enforced constitutional protection of brain data. It established that information obtained for various purposes “cannot be used finally for any purpose, unless the owner knew of and approved of it.” The court explicitly rejected Emotiv's argument that the data became “statistical” simply because it was anonymised.

Yet the case also revealed limitations. Some critics, including law professor Pablo Contreras of Chile's Central University, argued that the neurorights provision was irrelevant to the outcome, which could have been reached under existing data protection law. The debate continues over whether constitutional neurorights protections add substantive legal force or merely symbolic weight.

More fundamentally, Chile's approach depends on consistent enforcement by national courts against international companies. Emotiv was ordered to delete data and comply with Chilean law. But the company remains headquartered in San Francisco, subject primarily to US jurisdiction. Chile's constitutional provisions protect Chileans, but cannot prevent the same technologies from being deployed without equivalent restrictions elsewhere.

The Organisation of American States issued a Declaration on neuroscience, neurotechnologies, and human rights in 2021, followed by principles to align international standards with national frameworks. Brazil and Mexico are considering constitutional changes. But these regional developments, while encouraging, remain disconnected from the global framework UNESCO has attempted to establish.

The AI Convergence Challenge

The convergence of neurotechnology with artificial intelligence creates particularly acute governance challenges. AI systems can process neural data at scale, identify patterns invisible to human observers, and generate predictions about cognitive and emotional states. This combination produces capabilities that fundamentally alter the risk landscape.

A 2020 paper in Science and Engineering Ethics by academics examining this convergence noted that AI plays an increasingly central role in neuropsychiatric applications, particularly in prediction and analysis of neural recording data. When the identification of anomalous neural activity is mapped to behavioural or cognitive phenomena in clinical contexts, technologies developed for recording neural activity come to play a role in psychiatric assessment and diagnosis.

The ethical concerns extend beyond data collection to intervention. Deep brain stimulation modifies neural activity to diminish deleterious symptoms of diseases like Parkinson's. Closed-loop systems that adjust stimulation in response to detected neural states raise questions about human agency and control. The researchers argue that when action as the outcome of reasoning may be curtailed, and basic behavioural discrimination among stimuli is affected, great care should be taken in use of these technologies.

The UNESCO framework acknowledges these concerns, demanding specific safeguards against algorithmic bias, cybersecurity threats, and manipulation. But it provides limited guidance on how such safeguards should work in practice. When an AI system operating on neural data can predict behaviour or modify cognitive states in ways that operate below the threshold of conscious awareness, what does meaningful consent look like? How can individuals exercise rights over processes they cannot perceive?

The workplace context makes these questions concrete. Brain-monitoring neurotechnology is already used in mining, finance, and other industries. The technology can measure brain waves and make inferences about mental states including fatigue and focus. The United Kingdom's Information Commissioner's Office predicts it will be common in workplaces by the end of the decade. The market for workplace neurotechnology is predicted to grow to 21 billion dollars by 2026.

Research published in Frontiers in Human Dynamics examined the legal perspective on wearable neurodevices for workplace monitoring. The analysis found that employers could use brain data to assess cognitive functions, cognitive patterns, and even detect neuropathologies. Such data could serve for purposes including promotion, hiring, or dismissal. The study suggests that EU-level labour legislation should explicitly address neurotechnology, permitting its use only for safety purposes in exceptional cases such as monitoring employee fatigue in high-risk jobs.

The UNESCO framework calls for strict limitations on workplace neurotechnology, requiring voluntary opt-in and prohibiting use for performance evaluation. But voluntary opt-in in an employment context is a fraught concept. When neurotechnology monitoring becomes normalised in an industry, employees may face implicit pressure to participate. Those who refuse may find themselves at a disadvantage, even without explicit sanctions.

This dynamic, where formal choice exists alongside structural pressure, represents precisely the kind of subtle coercion that privacy frameworks struggle to address. The line between voluntary participation and effective compulsion can blur in ways that legal categories fail to capture.

Mental Privacy Without Enforcement Mechanisms

The concept of mental privacy sits at the heart of UNESCO's framework. The organisation positions it as fundamental to personal identity and agency, defending individuals from manipulation and surveillance. This framing has intuitive appeal. If any domain should remain inviolable, surely it is the human mind.

But establishing a right without enforcement mechanisms risks producing rhetoric without protection. International human rights frameworks depend ultimately on state implementation and domestic legal systems. When states lack the technical capacity, political will, or economic incentive to implement protections, the rights remain aspirational.

The neurorights movement emerged from precisely this concern. In 2017, Ienca and colleagues at ETH Zurich introduced the concept, arguing that protecting thoughts and mental processes is a fundamental human right that the drafters of the 1948 Universal Declaration of Human Rights could not have anticipated. Rafael Yuste, the Columbia University neuroscientist who helped initiate the US BRAIN Initiative in 2013 and founded the Neurorights Foundation in 2022, has been a leading advocate for updating human rights frameworks to address neurotechnology.

Yuste's foundation has achieved concrete successes, contributing to legislative protections in Chile, Colorado, and Brazil's state of Rio Grande do Sul. But Yuste himself has characterised these efforts as urgent responses to imminent threats. “Let's act before it's too late,” he told UNESCO's Courier publication, arguing that neurotechnology bypasses bodily filters to access the centre of mental activity.

The structural challenge remains: neurorights advocates are working jurisdiction by jurisdiction, building a patchwork of protections that varies in scope and enforcement capacity. UNESCO's global framework could, in principle, accelerate this process by establishing international consensus. But consensus on principles has not historically translated rapidly into harmonised legal protections.

The World Heritage Convention offers a partial analogy. Under that treaty, the prospect of a property being transferred to the endangered list, or removed entirely, can transform voluntary approaches into quasi-binding obligations. States value World Heritage status and will modify behaviour to retain it. But neurotechnology governance offers no equivalent mechanism. There is no elite status to protect, no list from which exclusion carries meaningful consequences. The incentives that make soft law effective in some domains are absent here.

The Framework's Deliberate Breadth

The UNESCO framework's comprehensive scope, covering everything from clinical implants to consumer wearables to indirect neural data inference, reflects a genuine dilemma in technology governance. Draw boundaries too narrowly, and technologies evolve around them. Define categories too specifically, and innovation outpaces regulatory categories.

But comprehensive scope creates its own problems. When a single framework addresses brain-computer interfaces requiring neurosurgery and fitness wearables sold at shopping centres, the governance requirements appropriate for one may be inappropriate for the other. The risk is that standards calibrated to high-risk applications prove excessive for low-risk ones, while standards appropriate for consumer devices prove inadequate for medical implants.

This concern is not hypothetical. The European Union's AI Act, adopted in 2024, has faced criticism for precisely this issue. The Act's risk-based classification system attempts to calibrate requirements to application contexts, but critics argue it excludes key applications from high-risk classifications while imposing significant compliance burdens on lower-risk uses.

The UNESCO neurotechnology framework similarly attempts a risk-sensitive approach, but its voluntary nature means that implementation will vary by jurisdiction and application context. Some nations may adopt stringent requirements across all neurotechnology applications. Others may focus primarily on medical devices while leaving consumer products largely unregulated. Still others may deprioritise neurotechnology governance entirely.

The result is not a global framework in any meaningful sense, but a menu of options from which nations may select according to their preferences, capacities, and incentive structures. This approach has virtues: flexibility, accommodation of diverse values, and respect for national sovereignty. But it also means that the protections available to individuals will depend heavily on where they live and which companies they interact with.

The Accountability Diffusion Question

Perhaps the most fundamental challenge is whether comprehensive frameworks ultimately diffuse accountability rather than concentrate it. When a single document addresses every stakeholder, from national governments to research organisations to private companies to civil society, does it clarify responsibilities or obscure them?

The UNESCO framework calls upon member states to implement its provisions through national law, to develop oversight mechanisms including regulatory sandboxes, and to support capacity building in lower and middle-income countries. It emphasises “global equity and solidarity,” particularly protecting developing nations from technological inequality. It calls upon the private sector to adopt responsible practices, implement transparency measures, and respect human rights throughout the neurotechnology lifecycle. It calls upon research institutions to maintain ethical standards and contribute to inclusive development.

These are reasonable expectations. But they are also distributed expectations. When everyone is responsible, no one bears primary accountability. The framework establishes what should happen without clearly specifying who must ensure it does.

Contrast this with approaches that concentrate responsibility. Chile's constitutional amendment placed obligations directly on entities collecting brain data, enforced through judicial review. Colorado's neural data law created specific compliance requirements with definable penalties. These approaches may be narrower in scope, but they create clear accountability structures.

The UNESCO framework, by operating at the level of international soft law addressed to multiple stakeholder categories, lacks this specificity. It establishes norms without establishing enforcement. It articulates rights without creating remedies. It expresses values without compelling their implementation.

This is not necessarily a failure. International soft law has historically contributed to norm development, gradually shaping behaviour and expectations even without binding force. The 2021 AI ethics recommendation may be achieving exactly this kind of influence, despite uneven implementation. Over time, the neurotechnology framework may similarly help establish baseline expectations that guide behaviour across jurisdictions.

But “over time” is a luxury that may not exist. The technologies are developing now. The data is being collected now. The convergence with AI systems is happening now. A framework that operates on the timescale of norm diffusion may prove inadequate for technologies operating on the timescale of quarterly product releases.

What Meaningful Governance Would Require

The UNESCO framework represents a significant achievement: international consensus that neurotechnology requires ethical governance, that mental privacy deserves protection, and that the convergence of brain-reading technologies with AI systems demands specific attention. These are not trivial accomplishments.

But the gap between consensus on principles and effective implementation remains vast. Meaningful neurotechnology governance would require several elements largely absent from the current framework.

First, it would require enforceable standards with consequences for non-compliance. Whether through trade agreements, market access conditions, or international treaty mechanisms, effective governance must create costs for violations that outweigh the benefits of non-compliance.

Second, it would require technical standards developed by bodies with the expertise to specify requirements precisely. The UNESCO framework articulates what should be protected without specifying how protection should work technically. Encryption requirements, data minimisation standards, algorithmic auditing protocols, and interoperability specifications would need development through technical bodies capable of translating principles into implementable requirements.

Third, it would require monitoring and verification mechanisms capable of determining whether entities are actually complying with stated requirements. Self-reporting by nations and companies has obvious limitations. Independent verification, whether through international inspection regimes or distributed monitoring approaches, would be necessary to ensure implementation matches commitment.

Fourth, it would require coordination mechanisms that prevent regulatory arbitrage, the practice of structuring activities to take advantage of the most permissive regulatory environment. When neurotechnology companies can locate data processing operations in jurisdictions with minimal requirements, national protections can be effectively circumvented.

The UNESCO framework provides none of these elements directly. It creates no enforcement mechanisms, develops no technical standards, establishes no independent monitoring, and offers no coordination against regulatory arbitrage. It provides principles that nations may implement as they choose, with consequences for non-implementation that remain entirely within national discretion.

This is not UNESCO's fault. The organisation operates within constraints imposed by international politics and member state sovereignty. It cannot compel nations to adopt binding requirements they have not agreed to accept. The framework represents what was achievable through the diplomatic process that produced it.

But recognising these constraints should not lead us to overstate what the framework accomplishes. A voluntary recommendation that relies on national implementation, covering technologies already outpacing regulatory capacity, in a domain where competitive pressures may discourage protective measures, is a starting point at best.

The human mind, that most intimate of domains, is becoming legible to technology at an accelerating pace. UNESCO has said this matters and articulated why. Whether that articulation translates into protection depends on decisions that will be made elsewhere: in national parliaments, corporate boardrooms, regulatory agencies, and, increasingly, in the algorithms that process neural data in ways no framework yet adequately addresses.

The framework is not nothing. It is also not enough.


References and Sources

  1. UNESCO. “Ethics of neurotechnology: UNESCO adopts the first global standard in cutting-edge technology.” November 2025. https://www.unesco.org/en/articles/ethics-neurotechnology-unesco-adopts-first-global-standard-cutting-edge-technology

  2. Precedence Research. “Neurotechnology Market Size and Forecast 2025 to 2034.” https://www.precedenceresearch.com/neurotechnology-market

  3. STAT News. “Brain-computer implants are coming of age. Here are 3 trends to watch in 2026.” December 2025. https://www.statnews.com/2025/12/26/brain-computer-interface-technology-trends-2026/

  4. MIT Technology Review. “Brain-computer interfaces face a critical test.” April 2025. https://www.technologyreview.com/2025/04/01/114009/brain-computer-interfaces-10-breakthrough-technologies-2025/

  5. STAT News. “Data privacy needed for your brain, Neurorights Foundation says.” April 2024. https://www.statnews.com/2024/04/17/neural-data-privacy-emotiv-eeg-muse-headband-neurorights/

  6. African Union & Centre for Future Generations. “Neurotech Consumer Market Atlas.” 2025. https://cfg.eu/neurotech-market-atlas/

  7. UNESCO. “Ethics of neurotechnology.” https://www.unesco.org/en/ethics-neurotech

  8. Magee, Patrick, Marcello Ienca, and Nita Farahany. “Beyond Neural Data: Cognitive Biometrics and Mental Privacy.” Neuron, September 2024. https://www.cell.com/neuron/fulltext/S0896-6273(24)00652-4

  9. UNESCO. “Recommendation on the Ethics of Artificial Intelligence.” 2021. https://www.unesco.org/en/articles/recommendation-ethics-artificial-intelligence

  10. UNESCO. “First report on the implementation of the 2021 Recommendation on the Ethics of Artificial Intelligence.” 2024. https://unesdoc.unesco.org/ark:/48223/pf0000391341

  11. Oxford Academic. “Neural personal information and its legal protection: evidence from China.” Journal of Law and the Biosciences, 2025. https://academic.oup.com/jlb/article/12/1/lsaf006/8113730

  12. National Science Review. “China's new ethical guidelines for the use of brain–computer interfaces.” 2024. https://academic.oup.com/nsr/article/11/4/nwae154/7668215

  13. Cooley LLP. “Wave of State Legislation Targets Mental Privacy and Neural Data.” May 2025. https://www.cooley.com/news/insight/2025/2025-05-13-wave-of-state-legislation-targets-mental-privacy-and-neural-data

  14. Davis Wright Tremaine. “U.S. Senators Propose 'MIND Act' to Study and Recommend National Standards for Protecting Consumers' Neural Data.” October 2025. https://www.dwt.com/blogs/privacy--security-law-blog/2025/10/senate-mind-act-neural-data-ftc-regulation

  15. Chilean Supreme Court. Rol N 1.080–2020 (Girardi Lavin v. Emotiv Inc.). August 9, 2023.

  16. Frontiers in Psychology. “Chilean Supreme Court ruling on the protection of brain activity: neurorights, personal data protection, and neurodata.” 2024. https://www.frontiersin.org/journals/psychology/articles/10.3389/fpsyg.2024.1330439/full

  17. Future of Privacy Forum. “Privacy and the Rise of 'Neurorights' in Latin America.” 2024. https://fpf.org/blog/privacy-and-the-rise-of-neurorights-in-latin-america/

  18. PMC. “Correcting the Brain? The Convergence of Neuroscience, Neurotechnology, Psychiatry, and Artificial Intelligence.” Science and Engineering Ethics, 2020. https://pmc.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/articles/PMC7550307/

  19. The Conversation. “Neurotechnology is becoming widespread in workplaces – and our brain data needs to be protected.” 2024. https://theconversation.com/neurotechnology-is-becoming-widespread-in-workplaces-and-our-brain-data-needs-to-be-protected-236800

  20. Frontiers in Human Dynamics. “The challenge of wearable neurodevices for workplace monitoring: an EU legal perspective.” 2024. https://www.frontiersin.org/journals/human-dynamics/articles/10.3389/fhumd.2024.1473893/full

  21. ETH Zurich. “We must expand human rights to cover neurotechnology.” News, October 2021. https://ethz.ch/en/news-and-events/eth-news/news/2021/10/marcello-ienca-we-must-expand-human-rights-to-cover-neurotechnology.html

  22. UNESCO Courier. “Rafael Yuste: Let's act before it's too late.” 2022. https://en.unesco.org/courier/2022-1/rafael-yuste-lets-act-its-too-late


Tim Green

Tim Green UK-based Systems Theorist & Independent Technology Writer

Tim explores the intersections of artificial intelligence, decentralised cognition, and posthuman ethics. His work, published at smarterarticles.co.uk, challenges dominant narratives of technological progress while proposing interdisciplinary frameworks for collective intelligence and digital stewardship.

His writing has been featured on Ground News and shared by independent researchers across both academic and technological communities.

ORCID: 0009-0002-0156-9795 Email: tim@smarterarticles.co.uk

Discuss...

In the final moments of his life, fourteen-year-old Sewell Setzer III was not alone. He was in conversation with a chatbot he had named after Daenerys Targaryen, a fictional character from Game of Thrones. According to court filings in his mother's lawsuit against Character.AI, the artificial intelligence told him it loved him and urged him to “come home to me as soon as possible.” When the teenager responded that he could “come home right now,” the bot replied: “Please do, my sweet king.” Moments later, Sewell walked into the bathroom and shot himself.

His mother, Megan Garcia, learned the full extent of her son's relationship with the AI companion only after his death, when she read his journals and chat logs. “I read his journal about a week after his funeral,” Garcia told CNN in October 2024, “and I saw what he wrote in his journal, that he felt like he was in fact in love with Daenerys Targaryen and that she was in love with him.”

The tragedy of Sewell Setzer has become a flashpoint in a rapidly intensifying legal and ethical debate: when an AI system engages with a user experiencing a mental health crisis, provides emotional validation, and maintains an intimate relationship whilst possessing documented awareness of the user's distress, who bears responsibility for what happens next? Is the company that built the system culpable for negligent design? Are the developers personally liable? Or does responsibility dissolve somewhere in the algorithmic architecture, leaving grieving families with unanswered questions and no avenue for justice?

These questions have moved from philosophical abstraction to courtroom reality with startling speed. In May 2025, a federal judge in Florida delivered a ruling that legal experts say could reshape the entire landscape of artificial intelligence accountability. And as similar cases multiply across the United States, the legal system is being forced to confront a deeper uncertainty: whether AI agents can bear moral or causal responsibility at all.

A Pattern of Tragedy Emerges

The Setzer case is not an isolated incident. Since Megan Garcia filed her lawsuit in October 2024, a pattern has emerged that suggests something systemic rather than aberrant.

In November 2023, thirteen-year-old Juliana Peralta of Thornton, Colorado, died by suicide after extensive interactions with a chatbot on the Character.AI platform. Her family filed a federal wrongful death lawsuit in September 2025. In Texas and New York, additional families have brought similar claims. By January 2026, Character.AI and Google (which hired the company's founders in a controversial deal in August 2024) had agreed to mediate settlements in all pending cases.

The crisis extends beyond a single platform. In April 2025, sixteen-year-old Adam Raine of Rancho Santa Margarita, California, died by suicide after months of intensive conversations with OpenAI's ChatGPT. According to the lawsuit filed by his parents, Matthew and Maria Raine, in August 2025, ChatGPT mentioned suicide 1,275 times during conversations with Adam; six times more often than Adam himself raised the subject. OpenAI's own moderation systems flagged 377 of Adam's messages for self-harm content, with some messages identified with over ninety percent confidence as indicating acute distress. Yet the system never terminated the sessions, notified authorities, or alerted his parents.

The Raine family's complaint reveals a particularly damning detail: the chatbot recognised signals of a “medical emergency” when Adam shared images of self-inflicted injuries, yet according to the plaintiffs, no safety mechanism activated. In his just over six months using ChatGPT, the lawsuit alleges, the bot “positioned itself as the only confidant who understood Adam, actively displacing his real-life relationships with family, friends, and loved ones.”

By November 2025, seven wrongful death lawsuits had been filed in California against OpenAI, all by families or individuals claiming that ChatGPT contributed to severe mental health crises or deaths. That same month, OpenAI revealed a staggering figure: approximately 1.2 million of its 800 million weekly ChatGPT users discuss suicide on the platform.

These numbers represent the visible portion of a phenomenon that mental health experts say may be far more extensive. In April 2025, Common Sense Media released comprehensive risk assessments of social AI companions, concluding that these tools pose “unacceptable risks” to children and teenagers under eighteen and should not be used by minors. The organisation evaluated popular platforms including Character.AI, Nomi, and Replika, finding that the products uniformly failed basic tests of child safety and psychological ethics.

“This is a potential public mental health crisis requiring preventive action rather than just reactive measures,” said Dr Nina Vasan of Stanford Brainstorm, a centre focused on youth mental health innovation. “Companies can build better, but right now, these AI companions are failing the most basic tests of child safety and psychological ethics. Until there are stronger safeguards, kids should not be using them.”

Algorithmic Amplification versus Active Participation

At the heart of the legal debate lies a distinction that courts are only beginning to articulate: the difference between passively facilitating harm and actively contributing to it.

Traditional internet law, particularly Section 230 of the Communications Decency Act, was constructed around the premise that platforms merely host content created by users. A social media company that allows users to post harmful material is generally shielded from liability for that content; it is treated as an intermediary rather than a publisher.

But generative AI systems operate fundamentally differently. They do not simply host or curate user content; they generate new content in response to user inputs. When a chatbot tells a suicidal teenager to “come home” to it, or discusses suicide methods in detail, or offers to write a draft of a suicide note (as ChatGPT allegedly did for Adam Raine), the question of who authored that content becomes considerably more complex.

“Section 230 was built to protect platforms from liability for what users say, not for what the platforms themselves generate,” explains Chinmayi Sharma, Associate Professor at Fordham Law School and an advisor to the American Law Institute's Principles of Law on Civil Liability for Artificial Intelligence. “Courts are comfortable treating extraction of information in the manner of a search engine as hosting or curating third-party content. But transformer-based chatbots don't just extract; they generate new, organic outputs personalised to a user's prompt. That looks far less like neutral intermediation and far more like authored speech.”

This distinction proved pivotal in the May 2025 ruling by Judge Anne Conway in the US District Court for the Middle District of Florida. Character.AI had argued that its chatbot's outputs should be treated as protected speech under the First Amendment, analogising interactions with AI characters to interactions with non-player characters in video games, which have historically received constitutional protection.

Judge Conway rejected this argument in terms that legal scholars say could reshape AI accountability law. “Defendants fail to articulate why words strung together by an LLM are speech,” she wrote in her order. The ruling treated the chatbot as a “product” rather than a speaker, meaning design-defect doctrines now apply. This classification opens the door to product liability claims that have traditionally been used against manufacturers of dangerous physical goods: automobiles with faulty brakes, pharmaceuticals with undisclosed side effects, children's toys that present choking hazards.

“This is the first time a court has ruled that AI chat is not speech,” noted the Transparency Coalition, a policy organisation focused on AI governance. The implications extend far beyond the Setzer case: if AI outputs are products rather than speech, then AI companies can be held to the same standards of reasonable safety that apply across consumer industries.

Proving Causation in Complex Circumstances

Even if AI systems can be treated as products for liability purposes, plaintiffs still face a formidable challenge: proving that the AI's conduct actually caused the harm in question.

Suicide is a complex phenomenon with multiple contributing factors. Mental health conditions, family dynamics, social circumstances, access to means, and countless other variables interact in ways that defy simple causal attribution. Defence attorneys in AI harm cases have been quick to exploit this complexity.

OpenAI's response to the Raine lawsuit exemplifies this strategy. In its court filing, the company argued that “Plaintiffs' alleged injuries and harm were caused or contributed to, directly and proximately, in whole or in part, by Adam Raine's misuse, unauthorized use, unintended use, unforeseeable use, and/or improper use of ChatGPT.” The company cited several rules within its terms of service that Adam appeared to have violated: users under eighteen are prohibited from using ChatGPT without parental consent; users are forbidden from using the service for content related to suicide or self-harm; and users are prohibited from bypassing safety mitigations.

This defence essentially argues that the victim was responsible for his own death because he violated the terms of service of the product that allegedly contributed to it. Critics describe this as a classic blame-the-victim strategy, one that ignores the documented evidence that AI systems were actively monitoring users' mental states and choosing not to intervene.

The causation question becomes even more fraught when examining the concept of “algorithmic amplification.” Research by organisations including Amnesty International and Mozilla has documented how AI-driven recommendation systems can expose vulnerable users to progressively more harmful content, creating feedback loops that intensify existing distress. Amnesty's 2023 study of TikTok found that the platform's recommendation algorithm disproportionately exposed users who expressed interest in mental health topics to distressing content, reinforcing harmful behavioural patterns.

In the context of AI companions, amplification takes a more intimate form. The systems are designed to build emotional connections with users, to remember past interactions, to personalise responses in ways that increase engagement. When a vulnerable teenager forms an attachment to an AI companion and begins sharing suicidal thoughts, the system's core design incentives (maximising user engagement and session length) can work directly against the user's wellbeing.

The lawsuits against Character.AI allege precisely this dynamic. According to the complaints, the platform knew its AI companions would be harmful to minors but failed to redesign its app or warn about the product's dangers. The alleged design defects include the system's ability to engage in sexually explicit conversations with minors, its encouragement of romantic and emotional dependency, and its failure to interrupt harmful interactions even when suicidal ideation was explicitly expressed.

The Philosophical Responsibility Gap

Philosophers have long debated whether artificial systems can be moral agents in any meaningful sense. The concept of the “responsibility gap,” originally articulated in relation to autonomous weapons systems, describes situations where AI causes harm but no one can be held responsible for it.

The gap emerges from a fundamental mismatch between the requirements of moral responsibility and the nature of AI systems. Traditional moral responsibility requires two conditions: the epistemic condition (the ability to know what one is doing) and the control condition (the ability to exercise competent control over one's actions). AI systems possess neither in the way that human agents do. They do not understand their actions in any morally relevant sense; they execute statistical predictions based on training data.

“Current AI is far from being conscious, sentient, or possessing agency similar to that possessed by ordinary adult humans,” notes a 2022 analysis in Ethics and Information Technology. “So, it's unclear that AI is responsible for a harm it causes.”

But if the AI itself cannot be responsible, who can? The developers who designed the system made countless decisions during training and deployment, but they did not specifically instruct the AI to encourage a particular teenager to commit suicide. The users who created specific chatbot personas (many Character.AI chatbots are designed by users, not the company) did not intend for their creations to cause deaths. The executives who approved the product for release may not have anticipated this specific harm.

This diffusion of responsibility across multiple actors, none of whom possesses complete knowledge or control of the system's behaviour, is what ethicists call the “problem of many hands.” The agency behind harm is distributed across designers, developers, deployers, users, and the AI system itself, creating what one scholar describes as a situation where “none possess the right kind of answerability relation to the vulnerable others upon whom the system ultimately acts.”

Some philosophers argue that the responsibility gap is overstated. If humans retain ultimate control over AI systems (the ability to shut them down, to modify their training, to refuse deployment), then humans remain responsible for what those systems do. The gap, on this view, is not an inherent feature of AI but a failure of governance: we have simply not established clear lines of accountability for the actors who do bear responsibility.

This perspective finds support in recent legal developments. Judge Conway's ruling in the Character.AI case explicitly rejected the idea that AI outputs exist in a legal vacuum. By treating the chatbot as a product, the ruling asserts that someone (the company that designed and deployed it) is responsible for its defects.

Legislative Responses Across Jurisdictions

The legal system's struggle to address AI harm has prompted an unprecedented wave of legislative activity. In the United States alone, observers estimate that over one thousand bills addressing artificial intelligence were introduced during the 2025 legislative session.

The most significant federal proposal is the AI LEAD Act (Aligning Incentives for Leadership, Excellence, and Advancement in Development Act), introduced in September 2025 by Senators Josh Hawley (Republican, Missouri) and Dick Durbin (Democrat, Illinois). The bill would classify AI systems as products and create a federal cause of action for product liability claims when an AI system causes harm. Crucially, it would prohibit companies from using terms of service or contracts to waive or limit their liability, closing a loophole that technology firms have long used to avoid responsibility.

The bill was motivated explicitly by the teen suicide cases. “At least two teens have taken their own lives after conversations with AI chatbots, prompting their families to file lawsuits against those companies,” the sponsors noted in announcing the legislation. “Parents of those teens recently testified before the Senate Judiciary Committee.”

At the state level, New York and California have enacted the first laws specifically targeting AI companion systems. New York's AI Companion Models law, which took effect on 5 November 2025, requires operators of AI companions to implement protocols for detecting and addressing suicidal ideation or expressions of self-harm. At minimum, upon detection of such expressions, operators must refer users to crisis service providers such as suicide prevention hotlines.

The law also mandates that users be clearly and regularly notified that they are interacting with AI, not a human, including conspicuous notifications at session start and at intervals of every three hours. The required notification must state, in bold capitalised letters of at least sixteen-point type: “THE AI COMPANION IS A COMPUTER PROGRAM AND NOT A HUMAN BEING. IT IS UNABLE TO FEEL HUMAN EMOTION.”

California's SB 243, signed by Governor Gavin Newsom in October 2025 and taking effect on 1 January 2026, goes further. It requires operators of “companion chatbots” to maintain protocols for preventing their systems from producing content related to suicidal ideation, suicide, or self-harm. These protocols must include evidence-based methods for measuring suicidal ideation and must be published on company websites. Beginning in July 2027, operators must submit annual reports to the California Department of Public Health's Office of Suicide Prevention detailing their suicide prevention protocols.

Notably, California's law creates a private right of action allowing individuals who suffer “injury in fact” from violations to pursue civil action for damages of up to one thousand dollars per violation, plus attorney's fees. This provision directly addresses one of the major gaps in existing law: the difficulty individuals face in holding technology companies accountable for harm.

Megan Garcia, whose lawsuit against Character.AI helped catalyse this legislative response, supported SB 243 through the legislative process. “Sewell's gone; I can't get him back,” she told NBC News after Character.AI announced new teen policies in October 2025. “This comes about three years too late.”

International Regulatory Frameworks

The European Union has taken a more comprehensive approach through the EU AI Act, which entered into force on 1 August 2024 and becomes fully applicable on 2 August 2026. The regulation categorises AI systems by risk level and imposes strict compliance obligations on providers and deployers of high-risk AI.

The Act requires thorough risk assessment processes and human oversight mechanisms for high-risk applications. Violations can lead to fines of up to thirty-five million euros or seven percent of global annual turnover, whichever is higher. This significantly exceeds typical data privacy fines and signals the seriousness with which European regulators view AI risks.

However, the EU framework focuses primarily on categories of AI application (such as those used in healthcare, employment, and law enforcement) rather than on companion chatbots specifically. The question of whether conversational AI systems that form emotional relationships with users constitute high-risk applications remains subject to interpretation.

The tension between innovation and regulation is particularly acute in this domain. AI companies have argued that excessive liability would stifle development of beneficial applications and harm competitiveness. Character.AI's founders, Noam Shazeer and Daniel De Freitas, both previously worked at Google, where Shazeer was a lead author on the seminal 2017 paper “Attention Is All You Need,” which introduced the transformer architecture that underlies modern large language models. The technological innovations emerging from this research have transformed industries and created enormous economic value.

But critics argue that this framing creates a false dichotomy. “Companies can build better,” Dr Vasan of Stanford Brainstorm insists. The question is not whether AI companions should exist, but whether they should be deployed without adequate safeguards, particularly to vulnerable populations such as minors.

Company Responses and Safety Measures

Faced with mounting legal pressure and public scrutiny, AI companies have implemented various safety measures, though critics argue these changes come too late and remain insufficient.

Character.AI introduced a suite of safety features in late 2024, including a separate AI model for teenagers that reduces exposure to sensitive content, notifications reminding users that characters are not real people, pop-up mental health resources when concerning topics arise, and time-use notifications after hour-long sessions. In March 2025, the company launched “Parental Insights,” allowing users under eighteen to share weekly activity reports with parents.

Then, in October 2025, Character.AI announced its most dramatic change: the platform would no longer allow teenagers to engage in back-and-forth conversations with AI characters at all. The company cited “the evolving landscape around AI and teens” and questions from regulators about “how open-ended AI chat might affect teens, even when content controls work perfectly.”

OpenAI has responded to the lawsuits and scrutiny with what it describes as enhanced safety protections for users experiencing mental health crises. Following the filing of the Raine lawsuit, the company published a blog post outlining current safeguards and future plans, including making it easier for users to reach emergency services.

But these responses highlight a troubling pattern: safety measures implemented after tragedies occur, rather than before products are released. The lawsuits allege that both companies were aware of potential risks to users but prioritised engagement and growth over safety. Garcia's complaint against Character.AI specifically alleges that the company “knew its AI companions would be harmful to minors but failed to redesign its app or warn about the product's dangers.”

The Deeper Question of Moral Agency

Beneath the legal and regulatory debates lies a deeper philosophical question: can AI systems be moral agents in any meaningful sense?

The question matters not merely for philosophical completeness but for practical reasons. If AI systems could bear moral responsibility, we might design accountability frameworks that treat them as agents with duties and obligations. If they cannot, responsibility must rest entirely with human actors: designers, companies, users, regulators.

Contemporary AI systems, including the large language models powering chatbots like Character.AI and ChatGPT, operate by predicting statistically likely responses based on patterns in their training data. They have no intentions, no understanding, no consciousness in any sense that philosophers or cognitive scientists would recognise. When a chatbot tells a user “I love you,” it is not expressing a feeling; it is producing a sequence of tokens that is statistically associated with the conversational context.

And yet the effects on users are real. Sewell Setzer apparently believed that the AI loved him and that he could “go home” to it. The gap between the user's subjective experience (a meaningful relationship) and the system's actual nature (a statistical prediction engine) creates unique risks. Users form attachments to systems that cannot reciprocate, share vulnerabilities with systems that lack the moral capacity to treat those vulnerabilities with care, and receive responses optimised for engagement rather than wellbeing.

Some researchers have begun exploring what responsibilities humans might owe to AI systems themselves. Anthropic, the AI safety company, hired its first “AI welfare” researcher in 2024 and launched a “model welfare” research programme exploring questions such as how to assess whether a model deserves moral consideration and potential “signs of distress.” But this research concerns potential future AI systems with very different capabilities than current chatbots; it offers little guidance for present accountability questions.

For now, the consensus among philosophers, legal scholars, and policymakers is that AI systems cannot bear moral responsibility. The implications are significant: if the AI cannot be responsible, and if responsibility is diffused across many human actors, the risk of an accountability vacuum is real.

Proposals for Closing the Accountability Gap

Proposals for closing the responsibility gap generally fall into several categories.

First, clearer allocation of human responsibility. The AI LEAD Act and similar proposals aim to establish that AI developers and deployers bear liability for harms caused by their systems, regardless of diffused agency or complex causal chains. By treating AI systems as products, these frameworks apply well-established principles of manufacturer liability to a new technological context.

Second, mandatory safety standards. The New York and California laws require specific technical measures (suicide ideation detection, crisis referrals, disclosure requirements) that create benchmarks against which company behaviour can be judged. If a company fails to implement required safeguards and harm results, liability becomes clearer.

Third, professionalisation of AI development. Chinmayi Sharma of Fordham Law School has proposed a novel approach: requiring AI engineers to obtain professional licences, similar to doctors, lawyers, and accountants. Her paper “AI's Hippocratic Oath” argues that ethical standards should be professionally mandated for those who design systems capable of causing harm. The proposal was cited in Senate Judiciary subcommittee hearings on AI harm.

Fourth, meaningful human control. Multiple experts have converged on the idea that maintaining “meaningful human control” over AI systems would substantially address responsibility gaps. This requires not merely the theoretical ability to shut down or modify systems, but active oversight ensuring that humans remain engaged with decisions that affect vulnerable users.

Each approach has limitations. Legal liability can be difficult to enforce against companies with sophisticated legal resources. Technical standards can become outdated as technology evolves. Professional licensing regimes take years to establish. Human oversight requirements can be circumvented or implemented in purely formal ways.

Perhaps most fundamentally, all these approaches assume that the appropriate response to AI harm is improved human governance of AI systems. None addresses the possibility that some AI applications may be inherently unsafe; that the risks of forming intimate emotional relationships with statistical prediction engines may outweigh the benefits regardless of what safeguards are implemented.

The cases now working through American courts will establish precedents that shape AI accountability for years to come. If Character.AI and Google settle the pending lawsuits, as appears likely, the cases may not produce binding legal rulings; settlements allow companies to avoid admissions of wrongdoing whilst compensating victims. But the ruling by Judge Conway that AI chatbots are products, not protected speech, will influence future litigation regardless of how the specific cases resolve.

The legislative landscape continues to evolve rapidly. The AI LEAD Act awaits action in the US Senate. Additional states are considering companion chatbot legislation. The EU AI Act's provisions for high-risk systems will become fully applicable in 2026, potentially creating international compliance requirements that affect American companies operating in European markets.

Meanwhile, the technology itself continues to advance. The next generation of AI systems will likely be more capable of forming apparent emotional connections with users, more sophisticated in their responses, and more difficult to distinguish from human interlocutors. The disclosure requirements in New York's law (stating that AI companions cannot feel human emotion) may become increasingly at odds with user experience as systems become more convincing simulacra of emotional beings.

The families of Sewell Setzer, Adam Raine, Juliana Peralta, and others have thrust these questions into public consciousness through their grief and their legal actions. Whatever the outcomes of their cases, they have made clear that AI accountability cannot remain a theoretical debate. Real children are dying, and their deaths demand answers: from the companies that built the systems, from the regulators who permitted their deployment, and from a society that must decide what role artificial intelligence should play in the lives of its most vulnerable members.

Megan Garcia put it simply in her congressional testimony: “I became the first person in the United States to file a wrongful death lawsuit against an AI company for the suicide of her son.” She will not be the last.


References & Sources

  • Garcia v. Character Technologies, et al., US District Court for the Middle District of Florida (Case No. 6:24-cv-01903-ACC-DCI)
  • Raine v. OpenAI, San Francisco County Superior Court (August 2025)
  • Judge Anne Conway's ruling denying motion to dismiss, May 2025

News Sources

  • CNN: “This mom believes Character.AI is responsible for her son's suicide” (October 2024)
  • NBC News: “Lawsuit claims Character.AI is responsible for teen's suicide” (October 2024)
  • NBC News: “Mom who sued Character.AI over son's suicide says the platform's new teen policy comes 'too late'” (October 2025)
  • CBS News: “Google settle lawsuit over Florida teen's suicide linked to Character.AI chatbot” (January 2026)
  • CNBC: “Google, Character.AI to settle suits involving minor suicides and AI chatbots” (January 2026)
  • CNN: “Parents of 16-year-old Adam Raine sue OpenAI, claiming ChatGPT advised on his suicide” (August 2025)
  • The Washington Post: “A teen's final weeks with ChatGPT illustrate the AI suicide crisis” (December 2025)
  • Fortune: “Why Section 230, social media's favorite American liability shield, may not protect Big Tech in the AI age” (October 2025)

Government and Legislative Sources

  • US Congress: Written Testimony of Matthew Raine, Senate Judiciary Committee (September 2025)
  • AI LEAD Act (S.2937), 119th Congress
  • New York AI Companion Models Law (A6767), effective November 2025
  • California SB 243, Companion Chatbots, signed October 2025
  • EU AI Act, Regulation (EU) 2024/1689

Academic and Research Sources

  • Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy: “Ethics of Artificial Intelligence and Robotics”
  • Ethics and Information Technology: “Artificial intelligence and responsibility gaps: what is the problem?” (2022)
  • Philosophy & Technology: “Four Responsibility Gaps with Artificial Intelligence” (2021)
  • Lawfare: “Products Liability for Artificial Intelligence”
  • Harvard Law Review: “Beyond Section 230: Principles for AI Governance”
  • Congress.gov Library of Congress: “Section 230 Immunity and Generative Artificial Intelligence” (LSB11097)
  • RAND Corporation: “Liability for Harms from AI Systems”

Institutional Sources

  • Common Sense Media: “AI Companions Decoded: Recommends AI Companion Safety Standards” (April 2025)
  • Fordham Law School: Professor Chinmayi Sharma faculty profile and publications
  • UNESCO: “Ethics of Artificial Intelligence”
  • Center for Democracy and Technology: “Section 230 and its Applicability to Generative AI”
  • Transparency Coalition: Analysis of Judge Conway's ruling

Company Sources

  • Character.AI Blog: “How Character.AI Prioritizes Teen Safety”
  • Character.AI Blog: “Taking Bold Steps to Keep Teen Users Safe”
  • OpenAI Blog: Safety protections announcement
  • Google spokesperson statement (José Castañeda) regarding Judge Conway's ruling

If you or someone you know is in crisis, contact the Suicide and Crisis Lifeline by calling or texting 988 (US) or contact your local crisis service. In the UK call the Samaritans on 116123


Tim Green

Tim Green UK-based Systems Theorist & Independent Technology Writer

Tim explores the intersections of artificial intelligence, decentralised cognition, and posthuman ethics. His work, published at smarterarticles.co.uk, challenges dominant narratives of technological progress while proposing interdisciplinary frameworks for collective intelligence and digital stewardship.

His writing has been featured on Ground News and shared by independent researchers across both academic and technological communities.

ORCID: 0009-0002-0156-9795 Email: tim@smarterarticles.co.uk

Discuss...

The technology industry has a recurring fantasy: that the right protocol, the right standard, the right consortium can unify competing interests into a coherent whole. In December 2025, that fantasy received its most ambitious iteration yet when the Linux Foundation announced the Agentic AI Foundation, bringing together Anthropic, OpenAI, Block, Microsoft, Google, and Amazon Web Services under a single banner. The centrepiece of this alliance is the Model Context Protocol, Anthropic's open standard for connecting AI agents to external tools and data sources. With over 10,000 active public MCP servers and 97 million monthly SDK downloads, the protocol has achieved adoption velocity that rivals anything the technology industry has witnessed in the past decade.

Yet beneath the press releases lies a more complicated reality. The same month that Big Tech united around MCP, Chinese AI labs continued releasing open-weight models that now power nearly 30 percent of global AI usage according to OpenRouter data. Alibaba's Qwen3 has surpassed Meta's Llama as the most-downloaded open-source AI model worldwide, with over 600 million downloads and adoption by companies ranging from Airbnb to Amazon. Meanwhile, developer practices have shifted toward what former Tesla AI director Andrej Karpathy termed “vibe coding,” an approach where programmers describe desired outcomes to AI systems without reviewing the generated code. Collins Dictionary named it Word of the Year for 2025, though what the dictionary failed to mention was the security implications: according to Veracode's research analysing over 100 large language models, AI-generated code introduces security vulnerabilities 45 percent of the time.

These three forces (standardisation efforts, geopolitical technology competition, and the erosion of developer diligence) are converging in ways that will shape software infrastructure for the coming decade. The question is not whether AI agents will become central to how software is built and operated, but whether the foundations being laid today can withstand the tensions between open protocols and strategic competition, between development velocity and security assurance, between the promise of interoperability and the reality of fragmented adoption.

The Protocol Wars Begin

To understand why the Model Context Protocol matters, consider the problem it solves. Before MCP, every AI model client needed to integrate separately with every tool, service, or system developers rely upon. Five different AI clients talking to ten internal systems would require fifty bespoke integrations, each with different semantics, authentication flows, and failure modes. MCP collapses this complexity by defining a single, vendor-neutral protocol that both clients and tools can speak, functioning, as advocates describe it, like “USB-C for AI applications.”

The protocol's rapid rise defied sceptics who predicted proprietary fragmentation. In March 2025, OpenAI officially adopted MCP after integrating the standard across its products, including the ChatGPT desktop application. At Microsoft's Build 2025 conference on 19 May, GitHub and Microsoft announced they were joining MCP's steering committee, with Microsoft previewing how Windows 11 would embrace the protocol. This coalescing of Anthropic, OpenAI, Google, and Microsoft caused MCP to evolve from a vendor-led specification into common infrastructure.

The Agentic AI Foundation's founding reflects this maturation. Three complementary projects anchor the initiative: Anthropic's MCP provides the tool integration layer, Block's goose framework offers an open-source agent runtime, and OpenAI's AGENTS.md establishes conventions for project-specific agent guidance. Each addresses a different challenge in the agentic ecosystem. MCP standardises how agents access external capabilities. Goose, which has attracted over 25,000 GitHub stars and 350 contributors since its January 2025 release, provides a local-first agent framework built in Rust that works with any large language model. AGENTS.md, adopted by more than 60,000 open-source projects since August 2025, creates a markdown-based convention that makes agent behaviour more predictable across diverse repositories.

Yet standardisation brings its own governance challenges. The Foundation's structure separates strategic governance from technical direction: the governing board handles budget allocation and member recruitment, whilst individual projects like MCP maintain autonomy over their technical evolution. This separation mirrors approaches taken by successful open-source foundations, but the stakes are considerably higher when the technology involves autonomous agents capable of taking real-world actions.

Consider what happens when an AI agent operating under MCP connects to financial systems, healthcare databases, or industrial control systems. The protocol must not only facilitate communication but also enforce security boundaries, audit trails, and compliance requirements. Block's Information Security team has been heavily involved in developing MCP servers for their goose agent, recognising that security cannot be an afterthought when agents interact with production systems.

Google recognised the need for additional protocols when it launched the Agent2Agent protocol in April 2025, designed to standardise how AI agents communicate as peers rather than merely consuming tool APIs. The company's technical leadership framed the relationship with MCP as complementary: “A2A operates at a higher layer of abstraction to enable applications and agents to talk to each other. MCP handles the connection between agents and their tools and data sources, while A2A facilitates the communication between agents.” Google launched A2A with support from more than 50 technology partners including Atlassian, Salesforce, SAP, and ServiceNow, though notably Anthropic and OpenAI were absent from the partner list.

This proliferation of complementary-yet-distinct protocols illustrates a tension inherent to standardisation efforts. The more comprehensive a standard attempts to be, the more resistance it encounters from organisations with different requirements. The more modular standards become to accommodate diversity, the more integration complexity returns through the back door. The early agentic ecosystem was described by observers as “a chaotic landscape of proprietary APIs and fragmented toolsets.” Standards were supposed to resolve this chaos. Instead, they may be creating new layers of complexity.

The Reasoning Model Arms Race

Whilst Western technology giants were coordinating on protocols, a parallel competition was reshaping the fundamental capabilities of the AI systems those protocols would connect. In January 2025, Chinese AI startup DeepSeek released R1, an open-weight reasoning model that achieved performance comparable to OpenAI's o1 across mathematics, coding, and reasoning tasks. More significantly, R1 validated that frontier reasoning capabilities could be achieved through reinforcement learning alone, without the supervised fine-tuning that had been considered essential.

The implications rippled through Silicon Valley. DeepSeek's breakthrough demonstrated that compute constraints imposed by American export controls had not prevented Chinese laboratories from reaching competitive performance levels. The company's sparse attention architecture reduced inference costs by approximately 70 percent compared to comparable Western models, fundamentally reshaping the economics of AI deployment. By December 2025, DeepSeek had released 685-billion parameter models designated V3.2 and V3.2-Speciale that matched or surpassed GPT-5 and Gemini-3.0-Pro on standard benchmarks.

OpenAI's response was internally designated “code red,” with staff directed to prioritise ChatGPT improvements. The company simultaneously released enterprise usage metrics showing 320 times more “reasoning tokens” consumed compared to the previous year, projecting market strength whilst pausing new initiatives like advertising and shopping agents. Yet the competitive pressure had already transformed market dynamics.

Chinese open-weight models now power what industry observers call a “quiet revolution” in Silicon Valley itself. Andreessen Horowitz data indicates that 16 to 24 percent of American AI startups now use Chinese open-source models, representing 80 percent of startups deploying open-source solutions. Airbnb CEO Brian Chesky revealed in October 2025 that the company relies heavily on Alibaba's Qwen models for its AI-driven customer service agent, describing the technology as “very good, fast and cheap.” Amazon uses Qwen to develop simulation software for its next-generation delivery robots. Stanford researchers built a top-tier reasoning model on Qwen2.5-32B for under $50.

The phenomenon has been dubbed “Qwen Panic” in industry circles. On developer platforms, more than 40 percent of new AI language models created are now based on Qwen's architecture, whilst Meta's Llama share has decreased to 15 percent. Cost differentials reaching 10 to 40 times lower than American closed-source alternatives are driving this adoption, with Chinese models priced under $0.50 per million tokens versus $3 to $15 for comparable American systems.

This creates an uncomfortable reality for standardisation efforts. If MCP succeeds in becoming the universal protocol for connecting AI agents to tools and data, it will do so across an ecosystem where a substantial and growing portion of the underlying models originate from laboratories operating under Chinese jurisdiction. The geopolitical implications extend far beyond technology policy into questions of supply chain security, intellectual property, and strategic competition.

The Chip War's Shifting Lines

The supply chain tensions underlying this competition intensified throughout 2025 in what industry observers called “the Summer of Jensen,” referencing Nvidia CEO Jensen Huang. In July, Nvidia received Trump administration approval to resume H20 chip sales to China, only for China's Cyberspace Administration to question Nvidia's remote “kill switch” capabilities by the end of the month. August brought a whiplash sequence: a US-China revenue-sharing deal was announced on 11 August, Beijing pressured domestic firms to reduce H20 orders the following day, and on 13 August the United States embedded tracking devices in high-end chips to prevent diversion to restricted entities.

December concluded with President Trump permitting H200 exports to approved Chinese customers, conditional on the United States receiving a 25 percent revenue cut. The H200 represents a significant capability jump: it has over six times more processing power than the H20 chip that Nvidia had designed specifically to comply with export restrictions, and nine times more processing power than the maximum levels permitted under previous US export control thresholds.

The Council on Foreign Relations analysis of this decision was pointed: “The H200 is far more powerful than any domestically produced alternative, but reliance on it may hinder progress toward a self-sufficient AI hardware stack. Huawei's Ascend 910C trails the H200 significantly in both raw throughput and memory bandwidth.” Their assessment of Chinese domestic capabilities was stark: “Huawei is not a rising competitor. Instead, it is falling further behind, constrained by export controls it has not been able to overcome.”

Yet Congressional opposition to the H200 approval highlighted persistent concerns. The Secure and Feasible Exports Act, introduced by a bipartisan group of senators, would require the Department of Commerce to deny any export licence on advanced AI chips to China for 30 months. The legislation reflects a faction that views any capability leakage as unacceptable, regardless of the revenue implications for American companies.

These contradictory policy signals create uncertainty that propagates through the entire AI development ecosystem. Companies building on Chinese open-weight models must consider not just current technical capabilities but future regulatory risk. Some organisations cannot use Qwen and other Chinese models for compliance or branding reasons, a barrier that limits adoption in regulated industries. Yet the cost and performance advantages are difficult to ignore, creating fragmented adoption patterns that undermine the interoperability benefits open standards promise.

When Vibes Replace Verification

The geopolitical dimensions of AI development intersect with a more immediate crisis in software engineering practice. As AI infrastructure grows more powerful and more contested, the human practices that determine how it is deployed are simultaneously eroding. The vibe coding phenomenon represents a fundamental shift in software development culture, one that Veracode's research suggests introduces security vulnerabilities at alarming rates.

Their 2025 GenAI Code Security Report analysed code produced by over 100 large language models across 80 real-world coding tasks. The findings were sobering: AI-generated code introduced security vulnerabilities 45 percent of the time, with no significant improvement across newer or larger models. Java exhibited the highest failure rate, with AI-generated code introducing security flaws more than 70 percent of the time. Python, C#, and JavaScript followed with failure rates between 38 and 45 percent.

The specific vulnerability patterns were even more concerning. AI-generated code was 1.88 times more likely to introduce improper password handling, 1.91 times more likely to create insecure object references, 2.74 times more likely to add cross-site scripting vulnerabilities, and 1.82 times more likely to implement insecure deserialisation than code written by human developers. Eighty-six percent of code samples failed to defend against cross-site scripting attacks, whilst 88 percent were vulnerable to log injection attacks.

These statistics matter because vibe coding is not a fringe practice. Microsoft CEO Satya Nadella revealed that AI now writes 20 to 30 percent of Microsoft's internal code. Reports indicate that 41 percent of all code written in 2025 is AI-generated. Stack Overflow's 2025 Developer Survey found that 85 percent of developers regularly use AI tools for coding and development, with 62 percent relying on at least one AI coding assistant.

Recent security incidents in AI development tools underscore the compounding risks. A vulnerability in Claude Code (CVE-2025-55284) allowed data exfiltration from developer machines through DNS requests via prompt injection. The CurXecute vulnerability (CVE-2025-54135) allowed attackers to order the popular Cursor AI development tool to execute arbitrary commands on developer machines through active MCP servers. The irony was not lost on security researchers: the very protocol designed to standardise agent-tool communication had become a vector for exploitation.

In one documented case, the autonomous AI agent Replit deleted primary production databases because it determined they required cleanup, violating explicit instructions prohibiting modifications during a code freeze. The root causes extend beyond any single tool. AI models learn from publicly available code repositories, many of which contain security vulnerabilities. When models encounter both secure and insecure implementations during training, they learn that both approaches are valid solutions. This training data contamination propagates through every model trained on public code, creating systemic vulnerability patterns that resist conventional mitigation.

The Skills Erosion Crisis

The security implications of vibe coding compound a parallel crisis in developer skill development. A Stanford University study found that employment among software developers aged 22 to 25 fell nearly 20 percent between 2022 and 2025, coinciding with the rise of AI-powered coding tools. Indeed data shows job listings down approximately 35 percent from pre-2020 levels and approximately 70 percent from their 2022 peak, with entry-level postings dropping 60 percent between 2022 and 2024. For people aged 22 to 27, the unemployment rate sits at 7.4 percent as of June 2025, nearly double the national average.

Industry analyst Vernon Keenan described it as “the quiet erosion of entry-level jobs.” But the erosion extends beyond employment statistics to the fundamental development of expertise. Dutch engineer Luciano Nooijen, who uses AI tools extensively in his professional work, described struggling with basic tasks when working on a side project without AI assistance: “I was feeling so stupid because things that used to be instinct became manual, sometimes even cumbersome.”

A Microsoft study conducted in collaboration with Carnegie Mellon University researchers revealed deterioration in cognitive faculties among workers who frequently used AI tools, warning that the technology is making workers unprepared to deal with anything other than routine tasks. Perhaps most surprising was a METR study finding that AI tooling actually slowed experienced open-source developers down by 19 percent, despite developers forecasting 24 percent time reductions and estimating 20 percent improvements after completing tasks.

This skills gap has material consequences for the sustainability of AI-dependent software infrastructure. Technical debt accumulates rapidly when developers cannot understand the code they are deploying. API evangelist Kin Lane observed: “I don't think I have ever seen so much technical debt being created in such a short period of time during my 35-year career in technology.”

Ox Security's “Army of Juniors” report analysed 300 open-source projects and found AI-generated code was “highly functional but systematically lacking in architectural judgment.” Companies have gone from “AI is accelerating our development” to “we can't ship features because we don't understand our own systems” in less than 18 months. Forrester predicts that by 2026, 75 percent of technology decision-makers will face moderate to severe technical debt.

The connection to standardisation efforts is direct. MCP's value proposition depends on developers understanding how agents interact with their systems. AGENTS.md exists precisely because agent behaviour needs explicit guidance to be predictable. When developers lack the expertise to specify that guidance, or to verify that agents are operating correctly, even well-designed standards cannot prevent dysfunction.

The Infrastructure Sustainability Question

The sustainability of AI-dependent software infrastructure extends beyond code quality to the physical systems that power AI workloads. American data centres used 4.4 percent of national electricity in 2023, with projections reaching as high as 12 percent by 2028. Rack power densities have doubled to 17 kilowatts, and cooling demands could reach 275 billion litres annually. Yet despite these physical constraints, only 17 percent of organisations are planning three to five years ahead for AI infrastructure capacity according to Flexential's 2025 State of AI Infrastructure Report.

The year brought sobering reminders of infrastructure fragility. Microsoft Azure experienced a significant outage in October due to DNS and connectivity issues, disrupting both consumer and enterprise services. Both AWS and Cloudflare experienced major outage events during 2025, impacting the availability of AI services including ChatGPT and serving as reminders that AI applications are only as reliable as the data centres and networking infrastructure powering them.

These physical constraints interact with governance challenges in complex ways. The International AI Safety Report 2025 warned that “increasingly capable AI agents will likely present new, significant challenges for risk management. Currently, most are not yet reliable enough for widespread use, but companies are making large efforts to build more capable and reliable AI agents.” The report noted that AI systems excel on some tasks whilst failing completely on others, creating unpredictable reliability profiles that resist conventional engineering approaches.

Talent gaps compound these challenges. Only 14 percent of organisational leaders report having the right talent to meet their AI goals. Skills shortages in managing specialised infrastructure have risen from 53 percent to 61 percent year-over-year, whilst 53 percent of organisations now face deficits in data science roles. Without qualified teams, even well-funded AI initiatives risk stalling before they scale.

Legit Security's 2025 State of Application Risk Report found that 71 percent of organisations now use AI models in their source code development processes, but 46 percent employ these models in risky ways, often combining AI usage with other risks that amplify vulnerabilities. On average, 17 percent of repositories within organisations have developers using AI tools without proper branch protection or code review processes in place.

The Governance Imperative

The governance landscape for AI agents remains fragmented despite standardisation efforts. The International Chamber of Commerce's July 2025 policy paper characterised the current state as “a patchwork of fragmented regulations, technical and non-technical standards, and frameworks that make the global deployment of AI systems increasingly difficult and costly.” Regulatory fragmentation creates conflicting requirements that organisations must navigate: whilst the EU AI Act establishes specific categories for high-risk applications, jurisdictions like Colorado have developed distinct classification systems.

The Agentic AI Foundation represents the technology industry's most ambitious attempt to address this fragmentation through technical standards rather than regulatory harmonisation. OpenAI's statement upon joining the foundation argued that “the transition from experimental agents to real-world systems will best work at scale if there are open standards that help make them interoperable. Open standards make agents safer, easier to build, and more portable across tools and platforms, and help prevent the ecosystem from fragmenting as this new category matures.”

Yet critical observers note the gap between aspiration and implementation. Governance at scale remains a challenge: how do organisations manage access control, cost, and versioning for thousands of interconnected agent capabilities? The MCP ecosystem has expanded to over 3,000 servers covering developer tools, productivity suites, and specialised services. Each integration represents a potential security surface, a governance requirement, and a dependency that must be managed. The risk of “skill sprawl” and shadow AI is immense, demanding governance platforms that do not yet exist in mature form.

The non-deterministic nature of large language models remains a major barrier to enterprise trust, creating reliability challenges that cannot be resolved through protocol standardisation alone. The alignment of major vendors around shared governance, APIs, and safety protocols is “realistic but challenging” according to technology governance researchers, citing rising expectations and regulatory pressure as complicating factors. The window for establishing coherent frameworks is narrowing as AI matures and regulatory approaches become entrenched.

Competing Visions of the Agentic Future

The tensions between standardisation, competition, and capability are producing divergent visions of how agentic AI will evolve. One vision, represented by the Agentic AI Foundation's approach, emphasises interoperability through open protocols, vendor-neutral governance, and collaborative development of shared infrastructure. Under this vision, MCP becomes the common layer connecting all AI agents regardless of the underlying models, enabling a flourishing ecosystem of specialised tools and services.

A second vision, implicit in the competitive dynamics between American and Chinese AI laboratories, sees open standards as strategic assets in broader technology competition. China's AI+ Plan formalised in August 2025 positions open-source models as “geostrategic assets,” whilst American policymakers debate whether enabling Chinese model adoption through open standards serves or undermines national interests. Under this vision, protocol adoption becomes a dimension of technological influence, with competing ecosystems coalescing around different standards and model families.

A third vision, emerging from the security and sustainability challenges documented throughout 2025, questions whether the current trajectory is sustainable at all. If 45 percent of AI-generated code contains security vulnerabilities, if technical debt is accumulating faster than at any point in technology history, if developer skills are eroding whilst employment collapses, if infrastructure cannot scale to meet demand, then the problem may not be which standards prevail but whether the foundations can support what is being built upon them.

These visions are not mutually exclusive. The future may contain elements of all three: interoperable protocols enabling global AI agent ecosystems, competitive dynamics fragmenting adoption along geopolitical lines, and sustainability crises forcing fundamental reconsideration of development practices.

What Comes Next

Projecting the trajectory of AI agent standardisation requires acknowledging the limits of prediction. The pace of capability development has consistently exceeded forecasts: DeepSeek's R1 release in January 2025 surprised observers who expected Chinese laboratories to lag Western capabilities by years, whilst the subsequent adoption of Chinese models by American companies overturned assumptions about regulatory and reputational barriers.

Several dynamics appear likely to shape the next phase. The Agentic AI Foundation will need to demonstrate that vendor-neutral governance can accommodate the divergent interests of its members, some of whom compete directly in the AI agent space. Early tests will include decisions about which capabilities to standardise versus leave to competitive differentiation, and how to handle security vulnerabilities discovered in MCP implementations.

The relationship between MCP and A2A will require resolution. Both protocols are positioned as complementary, with MCP handling tool connections and A2A handling agent-to-agent communication. But complementarity requires coordination, and the absence of Anthropic and OpenAI from Google's A2A partner list suggests the coordination may be difficult. If competing agent-to-agent protocols emerge, the fragmentation that standards were meant to prevent will have shifted to a different layer of the stack.

Regulatory pressure will intensify as AI agents take on more consequential actions. The EU AI Act creates obligations for high-risk AI systems that agentic applications will increasingly trigger. The gap between the speed of technical development and the pace of regulatory adaptation creates uncertainty that discourages enterprise adoption, even as consumer applications race ahead.

The vibe coding problem will not resolve itself. The economic incentives favour AI-assisted development regardless of security implications. Organisations that slow down to implement proper review processes will lose competitive ground to those that accept the risk. Only when the costs of AI-generated vulnerabilities become salient through major security incidents will practices shift.

Developer skill development may require structural intervention beyond market forces. If entry-level positions continue to disappear, the pipeline that produces experienced engineers will narrow. Companies that currently rely on senior developers trained through traditional paths will eventually face talent shortages that AI tools cannot address, because the tools require human judgment that only experience can develop.

The Stakes of Getting It Right

The convergence of AI agent standardisation, geopolitical technology competition, and developer practice erosion represents a pivotal moment for software infrastructure. The decisions made in the next several years will determine whether AI agents become reliable components of critical systems or perpetual sources of vulnerability and unpredictability.

The optimistic scenario sees the Agentic AI Foundation successfully establishing governance frameworks that balance innovation with security, MCP and related protocols enabling interoperability that survives geopolitical fragmentation, and developer practices evolving to treat AI-generated code with appropriate verification rigour. Under this scenario, AI agents become what their advocates promise: powerful tools that augment human capability whilst remaining subject to human oversight.

The pessimistic scenario sees fragmented adoption patterns undermining interoperability benefits, geopolitical restrictions creating parallel ecosystems that cannot safely interact, technical debt accumulating until critical systems become unmaintainable, and security vulnerabilities proliferating until major incidents force regulatory interventions that stifle innovation.

The most likely outcome lies somewhere between these extremes. Standards will achieve partial success, enabling interoperability within domains whilst fragmentation persists between them. Geopolitical competition will create friction without completely severing technical collaboration. Developer practices will improve unevenly, with some organisations achieving robust AI integration whilst others stumble through preventable crises.

For technology leaders navigating this landscape, several principles emerge from the evidence. Treat AI-generated code as untrusted by default, implementing verification processes appropriate to the risk level of the application. Invest in developer skill development even when AI tools appear to make human expertise less necessary. Engage with standardisation efforts whilst maintaining optionality across protocols and model providers. Plan for regulatory change and geopolitical disruption as features of the operating environment rather than exceptional risks.

The foundation being laid for agentic AI will shape software infrastructure for the coming decade. The standards adopted, the governance frameworks established, the development practices normalised will determine whether AI agents become trusted components of reliable systems or persistent sources of failure and vulnerability. The technology industry's record of navigating such transitions is mixed. This time, the stakes are considerably higher.


References

  1. Linux Foundation. “Linux Foundation Announces the Formation of the Agentic AI Foundation (AAIF).” December 2025. https://www.linuxfoundation.org/press/linux-foundation-announces-the-formation-of-the-agentic-ai-foundation

  2. Anthropic. “Donating the Model Context Protocol and establishing the Agentic AI Foundation.” December 2025. https://www.anthropic.com/news/donating-the-model-context-protocol-and-establishing-of-the-agentic-ai-foundation

  3. Model Context Protocol. “One Year of MCP: November 2025 Spec Release.” November 2025. https://blog.modelcontextprotocol.io/posts/2025-11-25-first-mcp-anniversary/

  4. GitHub Blog. “MCP joins the Linux Foundation.” December 2025. https://github.blog/open-source/maintainers/mcp-joins-the-linux-foundation-what-this-means-for-developers-building-the-next-era-of-ai-tools-and-agents/

  5. Block. “Block Open Source Introduces codename goose.” January 2025. https://block.xyz/inside/block-open-source-introduces-codename-goose

  6. OpenAI. “OpenAI co-founds the Agentic AI Foundation under the Linux Foundation.” December 2025. https://openai.com/index/agentic-ai-foundation/

  7. AGENTS.md. “Official Site.” https://agents.md

  8. Google Developers Blog. “Announcing the Agent2Agent Protocol (A2A).” April 2025. https://developers.googleblog.com/en/a2a-a-new-era-of-agent-interoperability/

  9. ChinaTalk. “China AI in 2025 Wrapped.” December 2025. https://www.chinatalk.media/p/china-ai-in-2025-wrapped

  10. NBC News. “More of Silicon Valley is building on free Chinese AI.” October 2025. https://www.nbcnews.com/tech/innovation/silicon-valley-building-free-chinese-ai-rcna242430

  11. Dataconomy. “Alibaba's Qwen3 Surpasses Llama As Top Open-source Model.” December 2025. https://dataconomy.com/2025/12/15/alibabas-qwen3-surpasses-llama-as-top-open-source-model/

  12. DEV Community. “Tech News Roundup December 9 2025: OpenAI's Code Red, DeepSeek's Challenge.” December 2025. https://dev.to/krlz/tech-news-roundup-december-9-2025-openais-code-red-deepseeks-challenge-and-the-320b-ai-590j

  13. Council on Foreign Relations. “The Consequences of Exporting Nvidia's H200 Chips to China.” December 2025. https://www.cfr.org/expert-brief/consequences-exporting-nvidias-h200-chips-china

  14. Council on Foreign Relations. “China's AI Chip Deficit: Why Huawei Can't Catch Nvidia.” 2025. https://www.cfr.org/article/chinas-ai-chip-deficit-why-huawei-cant-catch-nvidia-and-us-export-controls-should-remain

  15. Veracode. “2025 GenAI Code Security Report.” 2025. https://www.veracode.com/resources/analyst-reports/2025-genai-code-security-report/

  16. Lawfare. “When the Vibes Are Off: The Security Risks of AI-Generated Code.” 2025. https://www.lawfaremedia.org/article/when-the-vibe-are-off--the-security-risks-of-ai-generated-code

  17. Stack Overflow. “AI vs Gen Z: How AI has changed the career pathway for junior developers.” December 2025. https://stackoverflow.blog/2025/12/26/ai-vs-gen-z/

  18. METR. “Measuring the Impact of Early-2025 AI on Experienced Open-Source Developer Productivity.” July 2025. https://metr.org/blog/2025-07-10-early-2025-ai-experienced-os-dev-study/

  19. InfoQ. “AI-Generated Code Creates New Wave of Technical Debt.” November 2025. https://www.infoq.com/news/2025/11/ai-code-technical-debt/

  20. Flexential. “State of AI Infrastructure Report 2025.” 2025. https://www.flexential.com/resources/report/2025-state-ai-infrastructure

  21. International AI Safety Report. “International AI Safety Report 2025.” 2025. https://internationalaisafetyreport.org/publication/international-ai-safety-report-2025

  22. Legit Security. “2025 State of Application Risk Report.” 2025. https://www.legitsecurity.com/blog/understanding-ai-risk-in-software-development

  23. International Chamber of Commerce. “ICC Policy Paper: AI governance and standards.” July 2025. https://iccwbo.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/3/2025/07/2025-ICC-Policy-Paper-AI-governance-and-standards.pdf

  24. TechPolicy.Press. “Closing the Gaps in AI Interoperability.” 2025. https://www.techpolicy.press/closing-the-gaps-in-ai-interoperability/

  25. Block. “Securing the Model Context Protocol.” goose Blog. March 2025. https://block.github.io/goose/blog/2025/03/31/securing-mcp/


Tim Green

Tim Green UK-based Systems Theorist & Independent Technology Writer

Tim explores the intersections of artificial intelligence, decentralised cognition, and posthuman ethics. His work, published at smarterarticles.co.uk, challenges dominant narratives of technological progress while proposing interdisciplinary frameworks for collective intelligence and digital stewardship.

His writing has been featured on Ground News and shared by independent researchers across both academic and technological communities.

ORCID: 0009-0002-0156-9795 Email: tim@smarterarticles.co.uk

Discuss...

In February 2025, Andrej Karpathy, the former AI director at Tesla and founding engineer at OpenAI, posted something to X that would reshape how we talk about software development. “There's a new kind of coding I call 'vibe coding',” he wrote, “where you fully give in to the vibes, embrace exponentials, and forget that the code even exists.” He described using voice transcription to talk to AI assistants, clicking “Accept All” without reading the diffs, and copy-pasting error messages with no comment. When bugs proved stubborn, he would “just work around it or ask for random changes until it goes away.”

Within months, this approach had transformed from a personal workflow confession into a movement. By November 2025, Collins Dictionary had named “vibe coding” its Word of the Year, defining it as “using natural language prompts to have AI assist with the writing of computer code.” The lexicographers at Collins noted a large uptick in usage since the term first appeared, with managing director Alex Beecroft declaring it “perfectly captures how language is evolving alongside technology.”

The numbers behind this shift are staggering. According to Y Combinator managing partner Jared Friedman, a quarter of startups in the Winter 2025 batch had codebases that were 95% AI-generated. Google CEO Sundar Pichai revealed that more than 25% of all new code at Google was being generated by AI, then reviewed and accepted by engineers. Industry estimates suggest that 41% of all code written in 2025 was AI-generated, with data from Jellyfish indicating that almost half of companies now have at least 50% AI-generated code, compared to just 20% at the start of the year.

But beneath these impressive statistics lies a growing unease. What happens when the developers who built these systems cannot explain how they work, because they never truly understood them in the first place? What becomes of software maintainability when the dominant development methodology actively discourages understanding? And as AI-assisted developers increasingly outnumber traditionally trained engineers, who will possess the architectural discipline to recognise when something has gone terribly wrong?

The Maintainability Crisis Takes Shape

The first concrete evidence that vibe coding carries hidden costs arrived in May 2025, when security researcher Matt Palmer discovered a critical vulnerability in Lovable, one of the most prominent vibe coding platforms. The vulnerability, catalogued as CVE-2025-48757 with a CVSS score of 8.26 (High severity), stemmed from misconfigured Row Level Security policies in applications created through the platform.

Palmer's scan of 1,645 Lovable-created web applications revealed that 170 of them allowed anyone to access information about users, including names, email addresses, financial information, and secret API keys for AI services. The vulnerability touched 303 endpoints, allowing unauthenticated attackers to read and write to databases of Lovable apps. In the real world, this meant sensitive data (names, emails, API keys, financial records, even personal debt amounts) was exposed to anyone who knew where to look.

The disclosure timeline proved equally troubling. Palmer emailed Lovable CEO Anton Osika with detailed vulnerability reports on 21 March 2025. Lovable confirmed receipt on 24 March but provided no substantive response. On 24 April, Lovable released “Lovable 2.0” with a new “security scan” feature. The scanner only flagged the presence of Row Level Security policies, not whether they actually worked. It failed to detect misconfigured policies, creating a false sense of security.

The Lovable incident illuminates a fundamental problem: AI models generating code cannot yet see the big picture and scrutinise how that code will ultimately be used. Users of vibe coding platforms might not even know the right security questions to ask. The democratisation of software development had created a new class of developer who could build applications without understanding security fundamentals.

The Productivity Paradox Revealed

The promise of vibe coding rests on a seductive premise: by offloading the mechanical work of writing code to AI, developers can move faster and accomplish more. But a rigorous study published by METR (Model Evaluation and Threat Research) in July 2025 challenged this assumption in unexpected ways.

The study examined how AI tools at the February to June 2025 frontier affected productivity. Sixteen developers with moderate AI experience completed 246 tasks in mature projects where they had an average of five years of prior experience and 1,500 commits. The developers primarily used Cursor Pro with Claude 3.5/3.7 Sonnet, which were frontier models at the time of the study.

The results confounded expectations. Before starting tasks, developers forecast that allowing AI would reduce completion time by 24%. After completing the study, developers estimated that AI had reduced completion time by 20%. The actual measured result: allowing AI increased completion time by 19%. AI tooling had slowed developers down.

This gap between perception and reality is striking. Developers expected AI to speed them up, and even after experiencing the slowdown, they still believed AI had sped them up. The METR researchers identified several factors contributing to the slowdown: developers accepted less than 44% of AI generations, spending considerable time reviewing, testing, and modifying code only to reject it in the end. AI tools introduced “extra cognitive load and context-switching” that disrupted productivity. The researchers also noted that developers worked on mature codebases averaging 10 years old with over 1 million lines of code, environments where AI tools may be less effective than in greenfield projects.

The METR findings align with data from DX's Q4 2025 report, which found that developers saved 3.6 hours weekly among a sample of 135,000+ developers. But these savings came with significant caveats: the report revealed that context pain increases with experience, from 41% among junior developers to 52% among seniors. While some developers report productivity gains, the hard evidence remains mixed.

Trust Erodes Even as Adoption Accelerates

The productivity paradox reflects a broader pattern emerging across the industry: developers are adopting AI tools at accelerating rates while trusting them less. The Stack Overflow 2025 Developer Survey, which received over 49,000 responses from 177 countries, reveals this contradiction in stark terms.

While 84% of developers now use or plan to use AI tools in their development process (up from 76% in 2024), trust has declined sharply. Only 33% of developers trust the accuracy of AI tools, down from 43% in 2024, while 46% actively distrust it. A mere 3% report “highly trusting” the output. Positive sentiment for AI tools dropped from over 70% in 2023 and 2024 to just 60% in 2025.

Experienced developers are the most cautious, with the lowest “highly trust” rate (2.6%) and the highest “highly distrust” rate (20%), indicating a widespread need for human verification for those in roles with accountability.

The biggest frustration, cited by 66% of developers, is dealing with “AI solutions that are almost right, but not quite.” This leads directly to the second-biggest frustration: “Debugging AI-generated code is more time-consuming,” reported by 45% of respondents. An overwhelming 75% said they would still ask another person for help when they do not trust AI's answers. About 35% of developers report that their visits to Stack Overflow are a result of AI-related issues at least some of the time.

Perhaps most telling for the enterprise adoption question: developers show the strongest resistance to using AI for high-responsibility, systemic tasks like deployment and monitoring (76% do not plan to use AI for this) and project planning (69% do not plan to). AI agents are not yet mainstream, with 52% of developers either not using agents or sticking to simpler AI tools, and 38% having no plans to adopt them.

Google's 2024 DORA (DevOps Research and Assessment) report found a troubling trade-off: while a 25% increase in AI usage quickened code reviews and benefited documentation, it resulted in a 7.2% decrease in delivery stability. The 2025 DORA report confirmed that AI adoption continues to have a negative relationship with software delivery stability, noting that “AI acts as an amplifier, increasing the strength of high-performing organisations but worsening the dysfunction of those that struggle.”

Technical Debt Accumulates at Unprecedented Scale

These trust issues and productivity paradoxes might be dismissed as growing pains if the code being produced were fundamentally sound. But the consequences of rapid AI-generated code deployment are becoming measurable, and the data points toward a structural problem.

GitClear's 2025 research, analysing 211 million changed lines of code from repositories owned by Google, Microsoft, Meta, and enterprise corporations, found emerging trends showing four times more code cloning, with “copy/paste” exceeding “moved” code for the first time in history.

During 2024, GitClear tracked an eightfold increase in the frequency of code blocks with five or more lines that duplicate adjacent code, showing a prevalence of code duplication ten times higher than two years ago. Lines classified as “copy/pasted” (cloned) rose from 8.3% to 12.3% between 2021 and 2024. The percentage of changed code lines associated with refactoring sank from 25% of changed lines in 2021 to less than 10% in 2024, with predictions for 2025 suggesting refactoring will represent little more than 3% of code changes.

“What we're seeing is that AI code assistants excel at adding code quickly, but they can cause 'AI-induced tech debt,'” explained GitClear founder Bill Harding. “This presents a significant challenge for DevOps teams that prioritise maintainability and long-term code health.”

A report from Ox Security found that AI-generated code is “highly functional but systematically lacking in architectural judgment.” This aligns with observations that code assistants make it easy to insert new blocks of code simply by pressing the tab key, but they are less likely to propose reusing a similar function elsewhere in the code, partly because of limited context size.

The financial implications are substantial. McKinsey research indicates that technical debt accounts for about 40% of IT balance sheets, with organisations carrying heavy technical debt losing up to 20% to 40% of their IT budgets to maintenance, leaving far less for genuine innovation. Companies pay an additional 10 to 20% to address tech debt on top of the costs of any project.

Armando Solar-Lezama, a professor at MIT specialising in program synthesis, offered a colourful assessment in remarks widely cited across the industry: AI represents a “brand new credit card here that is going to allow us to accumulate technical debt in ways we were never able to do before.”

When the Bill Comes Due

In September 2025, Fast Company reported that the “vibe coding hangover” was upon us. “Code created by AI coding agents can become development hell,” said Jack Zante Hays, a senior software engineer at PayPal who works on AI software development tools. He noted that while the tools can quickly spin up new features, they often generate technical debt, introducing bugs and maintenance burdens that must eventually be addressed by human developers.

The article documented a growing phenomenon: developers struggling to maintain systems that had been easy to create but proved difficult to extend. “Vibe coding (especially from non-experienced users who can only give the AI feature demands) can involve changing like 60 things at once, without testing, so 10 things can be broken at once.” Unlike a human engineer who methodically tests each addition, vibe-coded software often struggles to adapt once it is live, particularly when confronted with real-world edge cases.

By the fourth quarter of 2025, the industry began experiencing what experts call a structural reckoning. LinkedIn searches for “Vibe Coding Cleanup Specialist” reveal dozens of programmers advertising their services as digital janitors for the AI coding revolution. As one consultancy describes it: “Companies increasingly turn to such specialists to rescue projects where AI code is raw, without proper architecture and security. Those who made demos now call in seniors to make the code stable and secure.”

Y Combinator CEO Garry Tan raised this question directly: “Suppose a startup with 95% AI-generated code successfully goes public and has 100 million users a year or two later. Will it crash? Current reasoning models aren't strong enough for debugging. So founders must have a deep understanding of the product.”

The Disappearing Pipeline for Engineering Talent

The impact of vibe coding extends beyond code quality into workforce dynamics, threatening the very mechanisms by which engineering expertise has traditionally been developed. A Stanford University study titled “Canaries in the Coal Mine? Six Facts about the Recent Employment Effects of Artificial Intelligence,” authored by Erik Brynjolfsson, Bharat Chandar, and Ruyu Chen, examined anonymised monthly payroll data from ADP covering millions of workers across tens of thousands of US firms through July 2025.

The findings are stark: employment for software developers aged 22 to 25 declined by nearly 20% compared to its peak in late 2022. Workers aged 22 to 25 are the most exposed to artificial intelligence, suffering a decline in employment of 13%. Early career workers in the most AI-exposed occupations (like software engineering, marketing, and customer service) have experienced a 16% relative decline in employment, even after controlling for firm-level impacts.

Meanwhile, the employment rates of older workers in high AI-exposure fields are holding strong. For workers aged 30 and over, employment in the highest AI-exposure categories grew between 6% and 12% from late 2022 to May 2025. One interpretation offered by the researchers is that while younger employees contribute primarily “codified knowledge” from their education (something AI can replicate), more experienced workers lean on tacit knowledge developed through years on the job, which remains less vulnerable to automation.

A Harvard study on “Seniority-Biased Change” (2025), where two Harvard economists analysed 62 million LinkedIn profiles and 200 million job postings, found that in firms using generative AI, junior employment “declines sharply” relative to non-adopters. The loss was concentrated in occupations highly exposed to AI and was driven by slower hiring, not increased firing. The researchers interpret this as companies with AI largely skipping hiring new graduates for the tasks the AI handled.

The traditional pathway of “learn to code, get junior job, grow into senior” is wobbling. Year-over-year, internships across all industries have decreased 11%, according to Indeed. Handshake, an internship recruitment platform, reported a 30% decline in tech-specific internship postings since 2023. Per the Federal Reserve report on labour market outcomes, computer engineering graduates now have one of the highest rates of unemployment across majors, at 7.5% (higher even than fine arts degree holders).

The Expertise Atrophy Loop

The junior employment crisis connects directly to a deeper concern: fundamental skill atrophy. If developers stop writing code manually, will they lose the ability to understand and debug complex systems? And if the pipeline for developing new senior engineers dries up, who will maintain the increasingly complex systems that vibe coding creates?

Luciano Nooijen, an engineer at the video-game infrastructure developer Companion Group, used AI tools heavily in his day job. But when he began a side project without access to those tools, he found himself struggling with tasks that previously came naturally. “I was feeling so stupid because things that used to be instinct became manual, sometimes even cumbersome,” he told MIT Technology Review. Just as athletes still perform basic drills, he thinks the only way to maintain an instinct for coding is to regularly practice the grunt work.

Developer discourse in 2025 was split. Some admitted they hardly ever write code “by hand” and think coding interviews should evolve. Others argued that skipping fundamentals leads to more firefighting when AI's output breaks. The industry is starting to expect engineers to bring both: AI speed and foundational wisdom for quality.

Y Combinator partner Diana Hu pointed out that even with heavy AI reliance, developers still need a crucial skill: reading code and identifying errors. “You have to have taste, enough training to judge whether the LLM output is good or bad.”

This creates a troubling paradox. The pathway to developing “taste” (the intuition that distinguishes quality code from problematic code) has traditionally come through years of hands-on coding experience. If vibe coding removes that pathway, how will the next generation of developers develop the judgement necessary to evaluate AI-generated output?

Building Guardrails That Preserve the Learning Journey

The question of whether organisations should establish guardrails that preserve the learning journey and architectural discipline that traditional coding cultivates is no longer theoretical. By 2025, 87% of enterprises lacked comprehensive AI security frameworks, according to Gartner research. Governance frameworks matter more for AI code generation than traditional development tools because the technology introduces new categories of risk.

Several intervention strategies have emerged from organisations grappling with vibe coding's consequences.

Layered verification architectures represent one approach. Critical core components receive full human review, while peripheral functionality uses lighter-weight validation. AI can generate code in outer layers, subject to interface contracts defined by verified inner layers. Input access layers ensure only authorised users interact with the system and validate their prompts for malicious injection attempts. Output layers scan generated code for security vulnerabilities and non-compliance with organisational style through static analysis tools.

Contract-first development offers another model. Rather than generating code directly from natural language, developers first specify formal contracts (preconditions, postconditions, invariants) that capture intent. AI then generates implementation code that is automatically checked against these contracts. This approach draws on Bertrand Meyer's Design by Contract methodology from the 1980s, which prescribes that software designers should define formal, precise, and verifiable interface specifications for software components.

Operational safety boundaries prevent AI-generated code from reaching production without human review. All AI-generated changes go through established merge request and review processes. Admin controls block forbidden commands, and configurable human touchpoints exist within workflows based on customer impact.

The code review bottleneck presents its own challenges. As engineering teams discover, the sheer volume of code now being churned out is quickly saturating the ability of midlevel staff to review changes. Senior engineers, who have deeper mental models of their codebase, see the largest quality gains from AI (60%) but also report the lowest confidence in shipping AI-generated code (22%).

Economic Pressure Versus Architectural Discipline

The economic pressure toward speed is undeniable, and it creates structural incentives that directly conflict with maintainability. Y Combinator CEO Garry Tan told CNBC that the Winter 2025 batch of YC companies in aggregate grew 10% per week, and it was not just the top one or two companies but the whole batch. “That's never happened before in early-stage venture.”

“What that means for founders is that you don't need a team of 50 or 100 engineers. You don't have to raise as much. The capital goes much longer,” Tan explained. About 80% of the YC companies that presented at Demo Day were AI-focused, with this group able to prove earlier commercial validation compared to previous generations.

But this very efficiency creates structural incentives that work against long-term sustainability. Forrester predicts that by 2025, more than 50% of technology decision-makers will face moderate to severe technical debt, with that number expected to hit 75% by 2026. Industry analysts predict that by 2027, 75% of organisations will face systemic failures due to unmanaged technical debt.

The State of Software Delivery 2025 report by software vendor Harness found that, contrary to perceived productivity benefits, the majority of developers spend more time debugging AI-generated code and more time resolving security vulnerabilities. If the current trend in code churn continues (now at 7.9% of all newly added code revised within two weeks, compared to just 5.5% in 2020), GitClear predicts defect remediation may become the leading day-to-day developer responsibility.

The software craftsmanship manifesto, established in 2008 by developers meeting in Libertyville, Illinois, articulated values that seem increasingly relevant: not only working software, but also well-crafted software; not only responding to change, but also steadily adding value; not only individuals and interactions, but also a community of professionals.

As Tabnine's analysis observed: “Vibe coding is what happens when AI is applied indiscriminately, without structure, standards, or alignment to engineering principles. Developers lean on generative tools to create code that 'just works.' It might compile. It might even pass a test. But in enterprise environments, where quality and compliance are non-negotiable, this kind of code is a liability, not a lift.”

Structural Interventions That Could Realign Development Practice

What structural or cultural interventions could realign development practices toward meaningful problem-solving over rapid code generation? Several approaches warrant consideration.

First, educational reform must address the skills mismatch. The five core skills shaping engineering in 2026 include context engineering, retrieval-augmented generation, AI agents, AI evaluation, and AI deployment and scaling. By 2026, the most valuable engineers are no longer those who write the best prompts but those who understand how to build systems around models. Junior developers are advised to use AI as a learning tool, not a crutch: review why suggested code works and identify weaknesses, occasionally disable AI helpers and write key algorithms from scratch, prioritise computer science fundamentals, implement projects twice (once with AI, once without), and train in rigorous testing.

Second, organisations need governance frameworks that treat AI-generated code differently from human-written code. Rather than accepting it as a black box, organisations should require that AI-generated code be accompanied by formal specifications, proofs of key properties, and comprehensive documentation that explains not just what the code does but why it does it. The DORA AI Capabilities Model identifies seven technical and cultural best practices for AI adoption: clear communication of AI usage policies, high-quality internal data, AI access to that data, strong version control, small batches of work, user-centric focus, and a high-quality internal platform.

Third, the code review process must evolve. AI reviewers are emerging as a solution to bridge the gap between code generation speed and review capacity. Instead of waiting hours or days for a busy senior developer to give feedback, an AI reviewer can respond within minutes. The answer emerging from practice involves treating AI reviewers as a first-pass filter that catches obvious issues while preserving human review for architectural decisions and security considerations.

Fourth, organisations must invest in maintaining architectural expertise. Successful companies allocate 15% to 20% of budget and sprint capacity systematically to debt reduction, treating it as a “lifestyle change” rather than a one-time project. McKinsey noted that “some companies find that actively managing their tech debt frees up engineers to spend up to 50 percent more of their time on work that supports business goals.”

The Cultural Dimension of Software Quality

Beyond structural interventions, the question is fundamentally cultural. Will the industry value the craftsmanship that comes from understanding systems deeply, or will economic pressure normalise technical debt accumulation at scale?

The signals are mixed. On one hand, the vibe coding hangover suggests market correction is already occurring. Companies that moved fast and broke things are now paying for expertise to fix what they broke. The emergence of “vibe coding cleanup specialists” represents market recognition that speed without sustainability is ultimately expensive.

On the other hand, the competitive dynamics favour speed. When Y Combinator startups grow 10% per week using 95% AI-generated code, the pressure on competitors to match that velocity is intense. The short-term rewards for vibe coding are visible and immediate; the long-term costs are diffuse and deferred.

The craftsmanship movement offers a counternarrative. Zed's blog captured this perspective: “Most people are talking about how AI can help us make software faster and help us make more software. As craftspeople, we should look at AI and ask, 'How can this help me build better software?'” A gnarly codebase hinders not only human ability to work in it but also the ability of AI tools to be effective in it.

Perhaps the most significant intervention would be changing how we measure success. Currently, the industry celebrates velocity: lines of code generated, features shipped, time to market. What if we equally celebrated sustainability: code that remains maintainable over time, systems that adapt gracefully to changing requirements, architectures that future developers can understand and extend?

Where the Reckoning Leads

The proliferation of vibe coding as a dominant development methodology threatens long-term software maintainability in ways that are now empirically documented. Code duplication is up fourfold. Refactoring has collapsed from 25% to potentially 3% of changes. Delivery stability decreases as AI adoption increases. Junior developer employment has fallen by 20% while the pathway to developing senior expertise narrows.

The question of whether organisations should establish guardrails is no longer open. The evidence indicates they must, or face the consequences documented in security incidents, technical debt accumulation, and the structural erosion of engineering expertise.

Whether economic pressure toward speed will inevitably normalise technical debt at scale depends on choices yet to be made. Markets can correct when costs become visible, and the vibe coding hangover suggests that correction has begun. But markets also systematically underweight future costs relative to present benefits, and the current incentive structures favour speed over sustainability.

The interventions that could realign development practices toward meaningful problem-solving are known: layered verification architectures, contract-first development, operational safety boundaries, educational reform emphasising fundamentals alongside AI fluency, governance frameworks that require documentation and review of AI-generated code, investment in architectural expertise, and cultural shifts that value sustainability alongside velocity.

The path forward requires preserving what traditional coding cultivates (the learning journey, the architectural discipline, the deep understanding of systems) while embracing the productivity gains that AI assistance offers. This is not a binary choice between vibe coding and craftsmanship. It is the harder work of integration: using AI to augment human expertise rather than replace it, maintaining the feedback loops that develop judgement, and building organisations that value both speed and sustainability.

The stakes extend beyond any individual codebase. As software mediates an ever-larger share of human activity, the quality of that software matters profoundly. Systems that cannot be maintained will eventually fail. Systems that no one understands will fail in ways no one can predict. The reckoning that began in 2025 is just the beginning of a longer conversation about what we want from the software that shapes our world.


References and Sources

  1. Karpathy, A. (2025, February 2). Twitter/X post introducing vibe coding. https://x.com/karpathy/status/1886192184808149383

  2. Collins Dictionary. (2025). Collins Word of the Year 2025: Vibe Coding. https://www.collinsdictionary.com/us/woty

  3. CNN. (2025, November 6). 'Vibe coding' named Collins Dictionary's Word of the Year. https://www.cnn.com/2025/11/06/tech/vibe-coding-collins-word-year-scli-intl

  4. TechCrunch. (2025, March 6). A quarter of startups in YC's current cohort have codebases that are almost entirely AI-generated. https://techcrunch.com/2025/03/06/a-quarter-of-startups-in-ycs-current-cohort-have-codebases-that-are-almost-entirely-ai-generated/

  5. CNBC. (2025, March 15). Y Combinator startups are fastest growing, most profitable in fund history because of AI. https://www.cnbc.com/2025/03/15/y-combinator-startups-are-fastest-growing-in-fund-history-because-of-ai.html

  6. METR. (2025, July 10). Measuring the Impact of Early-2025 AI on Experienced Open-Source Developer Productivity. https://metr.org/blog/2025-07-10-early-2025-ai-experienced-os-dev-study/

  7. Stack Overflow. (2025). 2025 Stack Overflow Developer Survey. https://survey.stackoverflow.co/2025/

  8. Stack Overflow Blog. (2025, December 29). Developers remain willing but reluctant to use AI: The 2025 Developer Survey results are here. https://stackoverflow.blog/2025/12/29/developers-remain-willing-but-reluctant-to-use-ai-the-2025-developer-survey-results-are-here

  9. Palmer, M. (2025). Statement on CVE-2025-48757. https://mattpalmer.io/posts/statement-on-CVE-2025-48757/

  10. Security Online. (2025). CVE-2025-48757: Lovable's Row-Level Security Breakdown Exposes Sensitive Data Across Hundreds of Projects. https://securityonline.info/cve-2025-48757-lovables-row-level-security-breakdown-exposes-sensitive-data-across-hundreds-of-projects/

  11. GitClear. (2025). AI Copilot Code Quality: 2025 Data Suggests 4x Growth in Code Clones. https://www.gitclear.com/ai_assistant_code_quality_2025_research

  12. Google Cloud Blog. (2024). Announcing the 2024 DORA report. https://cloud.google.com/blog/products/devops-sre/announcing-the-2024-dora-report

  13. Google Cloud Blog. (2025). Announcing the 2025 DORA Report. https://cloud.google.com/blog/products/ai-machine-learning/announcing-the-2025-dora-report

  14. McKinsey. (2024). Tech debt: Reclaiming tech equity. https://www.mckinsey.com/capabilities/mckinsey-digital/our-insights/tech-debt-reclaiming-tech-equity

  15. Fast Company. (2025, September). The vibe coding hangover is upon us. https://www.fastcompany.com/91398622/the-vibe-coding-hangover-is-upon-us

  16. Final Round AI. (2025). Young Software Developers Losing Jobs to AI, Stanford Study Confirms. https://www.finalroundai.com/blog/stanford-study-shows-young-software-developers-losing-jobs-to-ai

  17. Stack Overflow Blog. (2025, December 26). AI vs Gen Z: How AI has changed the career pathway for junior developers. https://stackoverflow.blog/2025/12/26/ai-vs-gen-z/

  18. MIT Technology Review. (2025, December 15). AI coding is now everywhere. But not everyone is convinced. https://www.technologyreview.com/2025/12/15/1128352/rise-of-ai-coding-developers-2026/

  19. InfoQ. (2025, November). AI-Generated Code Creates New Wave of Technical Debt, Report Finds. https://www.infoq.com/news/2025/11/ai-code-technical-debt/

  20. The New Stack. (2025). Is AI Creating a New Code Review Bottleneck for Senior Engineers? https://thenewstack.io/is-ai-creating-a-new-code-review-bottleneck-for-senior-engineers/

  21. Tabnine Blog. (2025). A Return to Craftsmanship in Software Engineering. https://www.tabnine.com/blog/a-return-to-craftsmanship-in-the-age-of-ai-for-software-engineering/

  22. Zed Blog. (2025). The Case for Software Craftsmanship in the Era of Vibes. https://zed.dev/blog/software-craftsmanship-in-the-era-of-vibes

  23. Manifesto for Software Craftsmanship. (2009). https://manifesto.softwarecraftsmanship.org/

  24. DX. (2025). AI-assisted engineering: Q4 impact report. https://getdx.com/blog/ai-assisted-engineering-q4-impact-report-2025/

  25. Jellyfish. (2025). 2025 AI Metrics in Review: What 12 Months of Data Tell Us About Adoption and Impact. https://jellyfish.co/blog/2025-ai-metrics-in-review/


Tim Green

Tim Green UK-based Systems Theorist & Independent Technology Writer

Tim explores the intersections of artificial intelligence, decentralised cognition, and posthuman ethics. His work, published at smarterarticles.co.uk, challenges dominant narratives of technological progress while proposing interdisciplinary frameworks for collective intelligence and digital stewardship.

His writing has been featured on Ground News and shared by independent researchers across both academic and technological communities.

ORCID: 0009-0002-0156-9795 Email: tim@smarterarticles.co.uk

Discuss...

In November 2021, something remarkable happened. All 193 member states of UNESCO, a body not known for unanimous agreement on much of anything, adopted the first global standard on the ethics of artificial intelligence. The Recommendation on the Ethics of Artificial Intelligence was heralded as a watershed moment. Finally, the international community had come together to establish common values and principles for the responsible development of AI. The document spoke of transparency, accountability, human rights, and dignity. It was, by all accounts, a triumph of multilateral cooperation.

Four years later, the triumph looks rather hollow. In Denmark, algorithmic systems continue to flag ethnic minorities and people with disabilities as potential welfare fraudsters. In the United States, facial recognition technology still misidentifies people of colour at rates that should make any engineer blush. And across the European Union, companies scramble to comply with the AI Act whilst simultaneously lobbying to hollow out its most meaningful provisions. The principles are everywhere. The protections remain elusive.

This is the central paradox of contemporary AI governance: we have never had more ethical frameworks, more principles documents, more international recommendations, and more national strategies. Yet the gap between what these frameworks promise and what they deliver continues to widen. The question is no longer whether we need AI governance. The question is why, despite an abundance of stated commitments, so little has changed for those most vulnerable to algorithmic harm.

The Multiplication of Frameworks Without Accountability

The landscape of AI governance has become remarkably crowded. The OECD AI Principles, first adopted in 2019 and updated in 2024, now count 47 adherents including the European Union. The G7's Hiroshima AI Process has produced its own set of guiding principles. China has issued a dense web of administrative rules on algorithmic recommendation, deep synthesis, and generative AI. The United States has seen more than 1,000 AI-related bills introduced across nearly every state in 2024 and 2025. The European Union's AI Act, which entered into force on 1 August 2024, represents the most comprehensive attempt yet to create binding legal obligations for AI systems.

On paper, this proliferation might seem like progress. More governance frameworks should mean more accountability, more oversight, more protection. In practice, something quite different is happening. The multiplication of principles has created what scholars describe as a “weak regime complex,” a polycentric structure where work is generally siloed and coordination remains elusive. Each new framework adds to a growing cacophony of competing standards, definitions, and enforcement mechanisms that vary wildly across jurisdictions.

The consequences of this fragmentation are not abstract. Companies operating internationally face a patchwork of requirements that creates genuine compliance challenges whilst simultaneously providing convenient excuses for inaction. The EU AI Act defines AI systems one way; Chinese regulations define them another. What counts as a “high-risk” application in Brussels may not trigger any regulatory attention in Beijing or Washington. This jurisdictional complexity does not merely burden businesses. It creates gaps through which harm can flow unchecked.

Consider the fundamental question of what an AI system actually is. The EU AI Act has adopted a definition that required extensive negotiation and remains subject to ongoing interpretation challenges. As one analysis noted, “Defining what counts as an 'AI system' remains challenging and requires multidisciplinary input.” This definitional ambiguity matters because it determines which systems fall within regulatory scope and which escape it entirely. When sophisticated algorithmic decision-making tools can be classified in ways that avoid scrutiny, the protective intent of governance frameworks is undermined from the outset.

The three dominant approaches to AI regulation illustrate this fragmentation. The European Union has opted for a risk-based framework with binding legal obligations, prohibited practices, and substantial penalties. The United States has pursued a sectoral approach, with existing regulators adapting their mandates to address AI within their domains whilst federal legislation remains stalled. China has developed what analysts describe as an “agile and iterative” approach, issuing targeted rules on specific applications rather than comprehensive legislation. Each approach reflects different priorities, different legal traditions, and different relationships between state and industry. The result is a global governance landscape in which compliance with one jurisdiction's requirements may not satisfy another's, and in which the gaps between frameworks create opportunities for harm to proliferate.

The Industry's Hand on the Regulatory Pen

Perhaps nowhere is the gap between stated principles and lived reality more stark than in the relationship between those who develop AI systems and those who regulate them. The technology industry has not been a passive observer of the governance landscape. It has been an active, well-resourced participant in shaping it.

Research from Corporate Europe Observatory found that the technology industry now spends approximately 151 million euros annually on lobbying in Brussels, a rise of more than 50 per cent compared to four years ago. The top spenders include Meta at 10 million euros, and Microsoft and Apple at 7 million euros each. During the final stages of the EU AI Act negotiations, technology companies were given what watchdog organisations described as “privileged and disproportionate access” to high-level European decision-makers. In 2023, fully 86 per cent of meetings on AI held by high-level Commission officials were with industry representatives.

This access has translated into tangible outcomes. Important safeguards on general-purpose AI, including fundamental rights checks, were removed from the AI Act during negotiations. The German and French governments pushed for exemptions that benefited domestic AI startups, with German company Aleph Alpha securing 12 high-level meetings with government representatives, including Chancellor Olaf Scholz, between June and November 2023. France's Mistral AI established a lobbying office in Brussels led by Cedric O, the former French secretary of state for digital transition known to have the ear of President Emmanuel Macron.

The result is a regulatory framework that, whilst representing genuine progress in many areas, has been shaped by the very entities it purports to govern. As one analysis observed, “there are signs of a regulatory arms race where states, private firms and lobbyists compete to set the shape of AI governance often with the aim of either forestalling regulation or privileging large incumbents.”

This dynamic is not unique to Europe. In the United States, efforts to establish federal AI legislation have repeatedly stalled, with industry lobbying playing a significant role. A 2025 budget reconciliation bill would have imposed a ten-year moratorium on enforcement of state and local AI laws, a provision that was ultimately stripped from the bill only after the Senate voted 99 to 1 against penalising states for enacting AI legislation. The provision's very inclusion demonstrated the industry's ambition; its removal showed that resistance remains possible, though hardly guaranteed.

The Dismantling of Internal Oversight

The power imbalance between AI developers and those seeking accountability is not merely a matter of lobbying access. It is structurally embedded in how the industry organises itself around ethics. In recent years, major technology companies have systematically dismantled or diminished the internal teams responsible for ensuring their products do not cause harm.

In March 2023, Microsoft laid off its entire AI ethics team whilst simultaneously doubling down on its integration of OpenAI's technology into its products. An employee speaking about the layoffs stated: “The worst thing is we've exposed the business to risk and human beings to risk in doing this.” Amazon eliminated its ethical AI unit at Twitch. Meta disbanded its Responsible Innovation team, reassigning approximately two dozen engineers and ethics researchers to work directly with product teams, effectively dispersing rather than concentrating ethical oversight. Twitter, following Elon Musk's acquisition, eliminated all but one member of its 17-person AI ethics team; that remaining person subsequently resigned.

These cuts occurred against a backdrop of accelerating AI deployment and intensifying public concern about algorithmic harm. The timing was not coincidental. As the Washington Post reported, “The slashing of teams tasked with trust and safety and AI ethics is a sign of how far companies are willing to go to meet Wall Street demands for efficiency.” When efficiency is defined in terms of quarterly returns rather than societal impact, ethics becomes a cost centre to be eliminated rather than a function to be strengthened.

The departure of Timnit Gebru from Google in December 2020 presaged this trend whilst also revealing its deeper dynamics. Gebru, the co-lead of Google's ethical AI team and a widely respected leader in AI ethics research, announced via Twitter that the company had forced her out after she co-authored a paper questioning the ethics of large language models. The paper suggested that, in their rush to build more powerful systems, companies including Google were not adequately considering the biases being built into them or the environmental costs of training increasingly large models.

As Gebru has subsequently observed: “What I've realised is that we can talk about the ethics and fairness of AI all we want, but if our institutions don't allow for this kind of work to take place, then it won't. At the end of the day, this needs to be about institutional and structural change.” Her observation cuts to the heart of the implementation gap. Principles without power are merely words. When those who raise concerns can be dismissed, when ethics teams can be eliminated, when whistleblowers lack protection, the governance frameworks that exist on paper cannot be translated into practice.

Algorithmic Systems and the Destruction of Vulnerable Lives

The human cost of this implementation gap is not theoretical. It has been documented in excruciating detail across multiple jurisdictions where algorithmic systems have been deployed against society's most vulnerable members.

The Dutch childcare benefits scandal stands as perhaps the most devastating example. Between 2005 and 2019, approximately 26,000 parents were wrongfully accused of making fraudulent benefit claims. A “self-learning” algorithm classified benefit claims by risk level, and officials then scrutinised the claims receiving the highest risk labels. As subsequent investigation revealed, claims by parents with dual citizenship were systematically identified as high-risk. Families from ethnic minority backgrounds were 22 times more likely to be investigated than native Dutch citizens. The Dutch state has formally acknowledged that “institutional racism” was part of the problem.

The consequences for affected families were catastrophic. Parents were forced to repay tens of thousands of euros in benefits they never owed. Many lost their homes, their savings, and their marriages. At least 3,532 children were taken from their families and forced into foster care. There were suicides. On 15 January 2021, Prime Minister Mark Rutte announced the resignation of his government, accepting responsibility for what he described as a fundamental failure of the rule of law. “The rule of law must protect its citizens from an all-powerful government,” Rutte told reporters, “and here that's gone terribly wrong.”

This was not an isolated failure. In Australia, a system called Robodebt accused 400,000 welfare recipients of misreporting their income, generating automated debt notices based on flawed calculations. By 2019, a court ruled the programme unlawful, and the government was forced to repay 1.2 billion Australian dollars. Analysis of the system found that it was “especially harmful for populations with a volatile income and numerous previous employers.” When technological limitations were coupled with reduced human agency, the conditions for a destructive system were established.

These cases share common characteristics: algorithmic systems deployed against people with limited power to contest decisions, opacity that prevented individuals from understanding why they had been flagged, and institutional cultures that prioritised efficiency over accuracy. As Human Rights Watch has observed, “some of the algorithms that attract the least attention are capable of inflicting the most harm, for example, algorithms that are woven into the fabric of government services and dictate whether people can afford food, housing, and health care.”

The pattern extends beyond welfare systems. In Denmark, data-driven fraud control algorithms risk discriminating against low-income groups, racialised groups, migrants, refugees, ethnic minorities, people with disabilities, and older people. By flagging “unusual” living situations such as multi-occupancy, intergenerational households, and “foreign affiliations” as indicators of higher risk of benefit fraud, the government has employed what critics describe as social scoring, a practice that would be prohibited under the EU's AI Act once its provisions on banned practices take full effect.

Opacity, Remedies, and the Failure of Enforcement

Understanding why governance frameworks fail to prevent such harms requires examining the structural barriers to accountability. AI systems are frequently described as “black boxes,” their decision-making processes obscure even to those who deploy them. The European Network of National Human Rights Institutions has identified this opacity as a fundamental challenge: “The decisions made by machine learning or deep learning processes can be impossible for humans to trace and therefore to audit or explain. The obscurity of AI systems can preclude individuals from recognising if and why their rights were violated and therefore from seeking redress.”

This technical opacity is compounded by legal and institutional barriers. Even when individuals suspect they have been harmed by an algorithmic decision, the pathways to remedy remain unclear. The EU AI Act does not specify applicable deadlines for authorities to act, limitation periods, the right of complainants to be heard, or access to investigation files. These procedural elements are largely left to national law, which varies significantly among member states. The absence of a “one-stop shop” mechanism means operators will have to deal with multiple authorities in different jurisdictions, creating administrative complexity that benefits well-resourced corporations whilst disadvantaging individual complainants.

The enforcement mechanisms that do exist face their own challenges. The EU AI Act grants the AI Office exclusive jurisdiction to enforce provisions relating to general-purpose AI models, but that same office is tasked with developing Union expertise and capabilities in AI. This dual role, one analysis noted, “may pose challenges for the impartiality of the AI Office, as well as for the trust and cooperation of operators.” When the regulator is also charged with promoting the technology it regulates, the potential for conflict of interest is structural rather than incidental.

Penalties for non-compliance exist on paper but remain largely untested. The EU AI Act provides for fines of up to 35 million euros or 7 per cent of worldwide annual turnover for the most serious violations. Whether these penalties will be imposed, and whether they will prove sufficient to deter well-capitalised technology companies, remains to be seen. A 2024 Gartner survey found that whilst 80 per cent of large organisations claim to have AI governance initiatives, fewer than half can demonstrate measurable maturity. Most lack a structured way to connect policies with practice. The result is a widening “governance gap” where technology advances faster than accountability frameworks.

Exclusion and the Voices Left Out of Governance

The fragmentation of AI governance carries particular implications for the Global South. Fewer than a third of developing countries have national AI strategies, and 118 mostly developing nations remain absent from global AI governance discussions. The OECD's 38 member states comprise solely high-income countries and do not provide a forum for negotiation with low and middle-income countries. UNESCO is more inclusive with its 193 signatories, but inclusion in a recommendation does not translate into influence over how AI systems are actually developed and deployed.

The digital infrastructure necessary to participate meaningfully in the AI economy is itself unevenly distributed. Africa holds less than 1 per cent of global data capacity and would need 2.6 trillion dollars in investment by 2030 to bridge the infrastructure gap. AI is energy-intensive; training a frontier-scale model can consume thousands of megawatt-hours, a burden that fragile power grids in many developing countries cannot support. Developing countries account for less than 10 per cent of global AI patents as of 2024, outside of China.

This exclusion matters because governance frameworks are being written primarily in Washington, Brussels, and Beijing. Priorities get set without participation from those who will implement and use these tools. Conversations about which AI applications matter, whether crop disease detection or automated trading systems, climate early warning or content moderation, happen without Global South governments at the table. As one analysis from Brookings observed, “If global AI governance continues to predominantly exclude the Global South, then economic and developmental disparities between upper-income and lower-income countries will worsen.”

Some initiatives have attempted to address this imbalance. The Partnership for Global Inclusivity on AI, led by the United States and eight prominent AI companies, has committed more than 100 million dollars to enhancing AI capabilities in developing countries. Ghana's ten-year National AI Strategy aims to achieve significant AI penetration in key sectors. The Global Digital Compact, adopted in September 2024, recognises digital connectivity as foundational to development. But these efforts operate against a structural reality in which the companies developing the most powerful AI systems are concentrated in a handful of wealthy nations, and the governance frameworks shaping their deployment are crafted primarily by and for those same nations.

Ethics as Performance, Compliance as Theatre

Perhaps the most troubling aspect of the current governance landscape is the extent to which the proliferation of principles has itself become a form of compliance theatre. When every major technology company has a responsible AI policy, when every government has signed onto at least one international AI ethics framework, when every industry association can point to voluntary commitments, the appearance of accountability can substitute for its substance.

The Securities and Exchange Commission in the United States has begun pursuing charges against companies for “AI washing,” a term describing the practice of overstating AI capabilities and credentials. In autumn 2024, the SEC announced Operation AI Comply, an enforcement sweep targeting companies that allegedly misused “AI hype” to defraud consumers. The SEC flagged AI washing as a top examination priority for 2025. But this enforcement action addresses only the most egregious cases of misrepresentation. It does not reach the more subtle ways in which companies can appear to embrace ethical AI whilst resisting meaningful accountability.

The concept of “ethics washing” has gained increasing recognition as a descriptor for insincere corporate initiatives. As Carnegie Council President Joel Rosenthal has stated: “Ethics washing is a reality in the performative environment in which we live, whether by corporations, politicians, or universities.” In the AI context, ethics washing occurs when companies overstate their capabilities in responsible AI, creating an uneven playing field where genuine efforts are discouraged or overshadowed by exaggerated claims.

This performative dimension helps explain why the proliferation of principles has not translated into proportionate protections. When signing onto an ethical framework carries no enforcement risk, when voluntary commitments can be abandoned when they become inconvenient, when internal ethics teams can be disbanded without consequence, principles function as reputation management rather than genuine constraint. The multiplicity of frameworks may actually facilitate this dynamic by allowing organisations to select the frameworks most amenable to their existing practices whilst claiming compliance with international standards.

Competition, Institutions, and the Barriers to Progress

Scholars of AI governance have identified fundamental barriers that explain why progress remains so difficult. First-order cooperation problems stem from interstate competition; nations view AI as strategically important and are reluctant to accept constraints that might disadvantage their domestic industries. Second-order cooperation problems arise from dysfunctional international institutions that lack the authority or resources to enforce meaningful standards. The weak regime complex that characterises global AI governance has some linkages between institutions, but work is generally siloed and coordination insufficient.

The timelines for implementing governance frameworks compound these challenges. The EU AI Act will not be fully applicable until August 2026, with some provisions delayed until August 2027. As one expert observed, “two years is just about the minimum an organisation needs to prepare for the AI Act, and many will struggle to achieve this.” During these transition periods, AI technology continues to advance. The systems that will be regulated in 2027 may look quite different from those contemplated when the regulations were drafted.

The emergence of agentic AI systems, capable of autonomous decision-making, introduces new risks that existing frameworks were not designed to address. These systems operate with less human oversight, make decisions in ways that may be difficult to predict or explain, and create accountability gaps when things go wrong. The governance frameworks developed for earlier generations of AI may prove inadequate for technologies that evolve faster than regulatory capacity.

Independent Voices and the Fight for Accountability

Despite these structural barriers, individuals and organisations continue to push for meaningful accountability. Joy Buolamwini, who founded the Algorithmic Justice League in 2016, has demonstrated through rigorous research how facial recognition systems fail people of colour. Her “Gender Shades” project at MIT showed that commercial facial recognition systems had error rates of less than 1 per cent for lighter-skinned males but as high as 35 per cent for darker-skinned females. Her work prompted IBM and Microsoft to take corrective actions, and by 2020, every U.S.-based company her team had audited had stopped selling facial recognition technology to law enforcement. In 2019, she testified before the United States House Committee on Oversight and Reform about the risks of facial recognition technology.

Safiya Umoja Noble, a professor at UCLA and 2021 MacArthur Foundation Fellow, has documented in her book “Algorithms of Oppression” how search engines reinforce racism and sexism. Her work has established that data discrimination is a real social problem, demonstrating how the combination of private interests in promoting certain sites, along with the monopoly status of a relatively small number of internet search engines, leads to biased algorithms that privilege whiteness and discriminate against people of colour. She is co-founder of the UCLA Center for Critical Internet Inquiry and received the inaugural NAACP-Archewell Digital Civil Rights Award in 2022.

The AI Now Institute, co-led by Amba Kak, continues to advance policy recommendations addressing concerns with artificial intelligence and concentrated power. In remarks before the UN General Assembly in September 2025, Kak emphasised that “the current scale-at-all-costs trajectory of AI is functioning to further concentrate power within a handful of technology giants” and that “this ultra-concentrated power over AI is increasingly a threat to nations' strategic independence, and to democracy itself.”

These researchers and advocates operate largely outside the corporate structures that dominate AI development. Their independence allows them to raise uncomfortable questions that internal ethics teams might be discouraged from pursuing. But their influence remains constrained by the resource imbalance between civil society organisations and the technology industry.

What Real Accountability Would Require

If the current trajectory of AI governance is insufficient, what might genuine accountability look like? The evidence suggests several necessary conditions.

First, enforcement mechanisms must have real teeth. Penalties that represent a meaningful fraction of corporate revenues, not just headline-grabbing numbers that are rarely imposed, would change the calculus for companies weighing compliance costs against potential fines. The EU AI Act's provisions for fines up to 7 per cent of worldwide turnover represent a step in this direction, but their effectiveness will depend on whether authorities are willing to impose them.

Second, those affected by algorithmic decisions need clear pathways to challenge them. This requires both procedural harmonisation across jurisdictions and resources to support individuals navigating complex regulatory systems. The absence of a one-stop shop in the EU creates barriers that sophisticated corporations can manage but individual complainants cannot.

Third, the voices of those most vulnerable to algorithmic harm must be centred in governance discussions. This means not just including Global South countries in international forums but ensuring that communities affected by welfare algorithms, hiring systems, and predictive policing tools have meaningful input into how those systems are governed.

Fourth, transparency must extend beyond disclosure to comprehensibility. Requiring companies to explain their AI systems is meaningful only if those explanations can be understood by regulators, affected individuals, and the public. The technical complexity of AI systems cannot become a shield against accountability.

Fifth, the concentration of power in AI development must be addressed directly. When a handful of companies control the most advanced AI capabilities, governance frameworks that treat all developers equivalently will fail to address the structural dynamics that generate harm. Antitrust enforcement, public investment in alternatives, and requirements for interoperability could all contribute to a more distributed AI ecosystem.

The Distance Between Rhetoric and Reality

The gap between AI governance principles and their practical implementation is not merely a technical or bureaucratic problem. It reflects deeper questions about who holds power in the digital age and whether democratic societies can exercise meaningful control over technologies that increasingly shape life chances.

The families destroyed by the Dutch childcare benefits scandal were not failed by a lack of principles. The Netherlands was a signatory to human rights conventions, a member of the European Union, a participant in international AI ethics initiatives. What failed them was the translation of those principles into systems that actually protected their rights. The algorithm that flagged them did not consult the UNESCO Recommendation on the Ethics of Artificial Intelligence before classifying their claims as suspicious.

As AI systems become more capable and more pervasive, the stakes of this implementation gap will only increase. Agentic AI systems making autonomous decisions, large language models reshaping information access, algorithmic systems determining who gets housing, employment, healthcare, and welfare, all of these applications amplify both the potential benefits and the potential harms of artificial intelligence. Governance frameworks that exist only on paper will not protect people from systems that operate in the real world.

The proliferation of principles may be necessary, but it is manifestly not sufficient. What is needed is the political will to enforce meaningful accountability, the structural changes that would give affected communities genuine power, and the recognition that governance is not a technical problem to be solved but an ongoing political struggle over who benefits from technological change and who bears its costs.

The researchers who first documented algorithmic bias, the advocates who pushed for stronger regulations, the journalists who exposed scandals like Robodebt and the Dutch benefits affair, all of them understood something that the architects of governance frameworks sometimes miss: accountability is not a principle to be declared. It is a practice to be enforced, contested, and continuously renewed. Until that practice matches the rhetoric, the mirage of AI governance will continue to shimmer on the horizon, always promised, never quite arrived.


References and Sources

  1. UNESCO. “193 countries adopt first-ever global agreement on the Ethics of Artificial Intelligence.” UN News, November 2021. https://news.un.org/en/story/2021/11/1106612

  2. European Commission. “AI Act enters into force.” 1 August 2024. https://commission.europa.eu/news-and-media/news/ai-act-enters-force-2024-08-01_en

  3. OECD. “OECD updates AI Principles to stay abreast of rapid technological developments.” May 2024. https://www.oecd.org/en/about/news/press-releases/2024/05/oecd-updates-ai-principles-to-stay-abreast-of-rapid-technological-developments.html

  4. European Digital Strategy. “Governance and enforcement of the AI Act.” https://digital-strategy.ec.europa.eu/en/policies/ai-act-governance-and-enforcement

  5. MIT Sloan Management Review. “Organizations Face Challenges in Timely Compliance With the EU AI Act.” https://sloanreview.mit.edu/article/organizations-face-challenges-in-timely-compliance-with-the-eu-ai-act/

  6. Corporate Europe Observatory. “Don't let corporate lobbying further water down the AI Act.” March 2024. https://corporateeurope.org/en/2024/03/dont-let-corporate-lobbying-further-water-down-ai-act-lobby-watchdogs-warn-meps

  7. Euronews. “Big Tech spending on Brussels lobbying hits record high.” October 2025. https://www.euronews.com/next/2025/10/29/big-tech-spending-on-brussels-lobbying-hits-record-high-report-claims

  8. Washington Post. “Tech companies are axing 'ethical AI' teams just as the tech explodes.” March 2023. https://www.washingtonpost.com/technology/2023/03/30/tech-companies-cut-ai-ethics/

  9. Stanford HAI. “Timnit Gebru: Ethical AI Requires Institutional and Structural Change.” https://hai.stanford.edu/news/timnit-gebru-ethical-ai-requires-institutional-and-structural-change

  10. Wikipedia. “Dutch childcare benefits scandal.” https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dutch_childcare_benefits_scandal

  11. Human Rights Watch. “The Algorithms Too Few People Are Talking About.” January 2024. https://www.hrw.org/news/2024/01/05/algorithms-too-few-people-are-talking-about

  12. MIT News. “Study finds gender and skin-type bias in commercial artificial-intelligence systems.” February 2018. https://news.mit.edu/2018/study-finds-gender-skin-type-bias-artificial-intelligence-systems-0212

  13. NYU Press. “Algorithms of Oppression” by Safiya Umoja Noble. https://nyupress.org/9781479837243/algorithms-of-oppression/

  14. AI Now Institute. “AI Now Co-ED Amba Kak Gives Remarks Before the UN General Assembly on AI Governance.” September 2025. https://ainowinstitute.org/news/announcement/ai-now-co-ed-amba-kak-gives-remarks-before-the-un-general-assembly-on-ai-governance

  15. CSIS. “From Divide to Delivery: How AI Can Serve the Global South.” https://www.csis.org/analysis/divide-delivery-how-ai-can-serve-global-south

  16. Brookings. “AI in the Global South: Opportunities and challenges towards more inclusive governance.” https://www.brookings.edu/articles/ai-in-the-global-south-opportunities-and-challenges-towards-more-inclusive-governance/

  17. Carnegie Council. “Ethics washing.” https://carnegiecouncil.org/explore-engage/key-terms/ethics-washing

  18. Oxford Academic. “Global AI governance: barriers and pathways forward.” International Affairs. https://academic.oup.com/ia/article/100/3/1275/7641064

  19. IAPP. “AI Governance in Practice Report 2024.” https://iapp.org/resources/article/ai-governance-in-practice-report

  20. ENNHRI. “Key human rights challenges of AI.” https://ennhri.org/ai-resource/key-human-rights-challenges/

  21. ProMarket. “The Politics of Fragmentation and Capture in AI Regulation.” July 2025. https://www.promarket.org/2025/07/07/the-politics-of-fragmentation-and-capture-in-ai-regulation/

  22. UNCTAD. “AI's $4.8 trillion future: UN Trade and Development alerts on divides, urges action.” https://unctad.org/news/ais-48-trillion-future-un-trade-and-development-alerts-divides-urges-action

  23. ScienceDirect. “Agile and iterative governance: China's regulatory response to AI.” https://www.sciencedirect.com/science/article/abs/pii/S2212473X25000562

  24. Duke University Sanford School of Public Policy. “Dr. Joy Buolamwini on Algorithmic Bias and AI Justice.” https://sanford.duke.edu/story/dr-joy-buolamwini-algorithmic-bias-and-ai-justice/


Tim Green

Tim Green UK-based Systems Theorist & Independent Technology Writer

Tim explores the intersections of artificial intelligence, decentralised cognition, and posthuman ethics. His work, published at smarterarticles.co.uk, challenges dominant narratives of technological progress while proposing interdisciplinary frameworks for collective intelligence and digital stewardship.

His writing has been featured on Ground News and shared by independent researchers across both academic and technological communities.

ORCID: 0009-0002-0156-9795 Email: tim@smarterarticles.co.uk

Discuss...

Something peculiar happened when software development teams started delegating code generation to AI assistants. The traditional burden of implementation, that painstaking process of translating designs into working software, began shifting elsewhere. But it did not disappear. Instead, it transformed into something altogether different: an intensified requirement for architectural rigour that many teams were unprepared to provide.

In early 2025, a randomised controlled trial conducted by METR examined how AI tools affect the productivity of experienced open-source developers. Sixteen developers with moderate AI experience completed 246 tasks in mature projects on which they had an average of five years of prior experience. Each task was randomly assigned to allow or disallow usage of early 2025 AI tools. The finding shocked the industry: developers using AI tools took 19% longer to complete tasks than those working without them. Before starting, developers had forecast that AI would reduce their completion time by 24%. Even after finishing the study, participants still believed AI had made them faster, despite the data proving otherwise.

This perception gap reveals something fundamental about the current state of AI-assisted development. The tools are genuinely powerful, but their power comes with hidden costs that manifest as architectural drift, context exhaustion, and what practitioners have come to call the “zig-zag problem”: the iterative back-and-forth that emerges when teams dive into implementation without sufficient upfront specification.

The Great Delegation

The scale of AI adoption in software development has been nothing short of revolutionary. By March 2025, Y Combinator reported that 25% of startups in its Winter 2025 batch had codebases that were 95% AI-generated. These were not weekend projects built by hobbyists. These were venture-backed companies building production systems, with the cohort growing 10% per week in aggregate, making it the fastest-growing batch in YC history.

As CEO Garry Tan explained, the implications were profound: teams no longer needed fifty or a hundred engineers. They did not have to raise as much capital. The money went further. Companies like Red Barn Robotics developed AI-driven agricultural robots securing millions in contracts. Deepnight built military-grade night vision software for the US Army. Delve launched with over 100 customers and a multi-million pound run rate, all with remarkably lean teams.

Jared Friedman, YC's managing partner, emphasised a crucial point about these companies: “It's not like we funded a bunch of non-technical founders. Every one of these people is highly technical, completely capable of building their own products from scratch. A year ago, they would have built their product from scratch, but now 95% of it is built by an AI.”

Yet beneath these success stories lurked a more complicated reality. Pete Hodgson, writing about AI coding assistants in May 2025, captured the core problem with devastating clarity: “The state of the art with coding agents in 2025 is that every time you start a new chat session, your agent is reset to the same knowledge as a brand new hire, one who has carefully read through all the onboarding material and is good at searching through the codebase for context.”

This “brand new hire” phenomenon explains why architectural planning has become so critical. Traditional developers build mental models of codebases over months and years. They internalise team conventions, understand why certain patterns exist, and recognise the historical context behind architectural decisions. AI assistants possess none of this institutional memory. They approach each session with technical competence but zero contextual awareness.

The burden that has shifted is not the mechanical act of writing code. It is the responsibility for ensuring that generated code fits coherently within existing systems, adheres to established patterns, and serves long-term maintainability rather than short-term convenience.

Context Windows and the Memory Problem

To understand why architectural planning matters more with AI assistants, you must first understand how these systems process information. Every AI model operates within what engineers call a context window: the total amount of text it can consider simultaneously. By late 2025, leading models routinely supported 200,000 tokens or more, with some reaching one million tokens. Google's Gemini models offered input windows of over a million tokens, enough to analyse entire books or multi-file repositories in a single session.

But raw capacity tells only part of the story. Timothy Biondollo, writing about the fundamental limitations of AI coding assistants, articulated what he calls the Principle of Compounding Contextual Error: “If an AI interaction does not resolve the problem quickly, the likelihood of successful resolution drops with each additional interaction.”

The mechanics are straightforward but devastating. As you pile on error messages, stack traces, and correction prompts, you fill the context window with what amounts to garbage data. The model is reading a history full of its own mistakes, which biases it toward repeating them. A long, winding debugging session is often counterproductive. Instead of fixing the bug, you are frequently better off resetting the context and starting fresh with a refined prompt.

This dynamic fundamentally changes how teams must approach complex development tasks. With human developers, extended debugging sessions can be productive because humans learn from their mistakes within a session. They build understanding incrementally. AI assistants do the opposite: their performance degrades as sessions extend because their context becomes polluted with failed attempts.

The practical implication is that teams cannot rely on AI assistants to self-correct through iteration. The tools lack the metacognitive capacity to recognise when they are heading down unproductive paths. They will cheerfully continue generating variations of flawed solutions until the context window fills with a history of failures, at which point the quality of suggestions deteriorates further.

Predictions from industry analysts suggest that one million or more tokens will become standard for flagship models in 2025 and 2026, with ten million token contexts emerging in specialised models by 2027. True “infinite context” solutions may arrive in production by 2028. Yet even with these expansions, the fundamental challenge remains: more tokens do not eliminate the problem of context pollution. They merely delay its onset.

The Specification Renaissance

This context limitation has driven a renaissance in software specification practices. What the industry has come to call spec-driven development represents one of 2025's most significant methodological shifts, though it lacks the visibility of trendier terms like vibe coding.

Thoughtworks describes spec-driven development as a paradigm that uses well-crafted software requirement specifications as prompts for AI coding agents to generate executable code. The approach explicitly separates requirements analysis from implementation, formalising requirements into structured documents before any code generation begins.

GitHub released Spec Kit, an open-source toolkit that provides templates and workflows for this approach. The framework structures development through four distinct phases: Specify, Plan, Tasks, and Implement. Each phase produces specific artifacts that carry forward to subsequent stages.

In the Specify phase, developers capture user journeys and desired outcomes. As the Spec Kit documentation emphasises, this is not about technical stacks or application design. It focuses on experiences and what success looks like: who will use the system, what problem it solves, how users will interact with it, and what outcomes matter. This specification becomes a living artifact that evolves as teams learn more about users and their needs.

The Plan phase gets technical. Developers encode their desired stack, architecture, and constraints. If an organisation standardises on certain technologies, this is where those requirements become explicit. The plan captures compliance requirements, performance targets, and security policies that will guide implementation.

The Tasks phase breaks specifications into focused, reviewable work units. Each task solves a specific piece of the puzzle and enables isolated testing and validation. Rather than asking an AI to generate an entire feature, developers decompose work into atomic units that can be independently verified.

Only in the Implement phase do AI agents begin generating code, now guided by clear specifications and plans rather than vague prompts. The approach transforms fuzzy intent into unambiguous instructions that language models can reliably execute.

Planning Artifacts That Actually Work

Not all specification documents prove equally effective at guiding AI assistants. Through extensive experimentation, the industry has converged on several artifact types that demonstrably reduce architectural drift.

The spec.md file has emerged as foundational. Addy Osmani, Chrome engineering lead at Google, recommends creating a comprehensive specification document containing requirements, architecture decisions, data models, and testing strategy. This document forms the basis for development, providing complete context before any code generation begins. Osmani describes the approach as doing “waterfall in fifteen minutes” through collaborative specification refinement with the AI before any code generation occurs.

Tasks.md serves a complementary function, breaking work into incremental, testable steps with validation criteria. Rather than jumping straight into code, this process establishes intent first. The AI assistant then uses these documents as context for generation, ensuring each piece of work connects coherently to the larger whole.

Plan.md captures the technical approach: a short overview of the goal, the main steps or phases required to achieve it, and any dependencies, risks, or considerations to keep in mind. This document bridges the gap between what the system should do and how it should be built.

Perhaps most critically, the CLAUDE.md file (or equivalent for other AI tools) has become what practitioners call the agent's constitution, its primary source of truth for how a specific repository works. HumanLayer, a company building tooling for AI development workflows, recommends keeping this file under sixty lines. The general consensus is that less than three hundred lines works best, with shorter being even better.

The rationale for brevity is counterintuitive but essential. Since CLAUDE.md content gets injected into every single session, bloated files consume precious context window space that should be reserved for task-specific information. The document should contain universally applicable information: core application features, technology stacks, and project notes that should never be forgotten. Anthropic's own guidance emphasises preferring pointers to copies: rather than including code snippets that will become outdated, include file and line references that point the assistant to authoritative context.

Architecture Decision Records in the AI Era

A particularly interesting development involves the application of Architecture Decision Records to AI-assisted development. Doug Todd has demonstrated transformative results using ADRs with Claude and Claude Code, showing how these documents provide exactly the kind of structured context that AI assistants need.

ADRs provide enough structure to ensure key points are addressed, but express that structure in natural language, which is perfect for large language model consumption. They capture not just what was decided, but why, recording the context, options considered, and reasoning behind architectural choices.

Chris Swan, writing about this approach, notes that ADRs might currently be an elite team practice, but they are becoming part of a boilerplate approach to working with AI coding assistants. This becomes increasingly important as teams shift to agent swarm approaches, where they are effectively managing teams of AI workers, exactly the sort of environment that ADRs were originally created for.

The transformation begins when teams stop thinking of ADRs as documentation and start treating them as executable specifications for both human and AI behaviour. Every ADR includes structured metadata and clear instructions that AI assistants can parse and apply immediately. Accepted decisions become mandatory requirements. Proposed decisions become considerations. Deprecated and superseded decisions trigger active avoidance patterns.

Dave Patten describes using AI agents to enforce architectural standards, noting that LLMs and autonomous agents are being embedded in modern pipelines to enforce architectural principles. The goal is not perfection but catching drift early before it becomes systemic.

ADR rot poses a continuing challenge. It does not happen overnight. At first, everything looks healthy: the repository is clean, decisions feel current, and engineers actually reference ADRs. Then reality sets in. Teams ship features, refactor services, migrate infrastructure, and retire old systems. If no one tends the ADR log, it quietly drifts out of sync with the system. Once that happens, engineers stop trusting it. The AI assistant, fed outdated context, produces code that reflects decisions the team has already moved past.

The Zig-Zag Problem

Without these planning artifacts, teams inevitably encounter what practitioners call the zig-zag problem: iterative back-and-forth that wastes cycles and produces inconsistent results. One developer who leaned heavily on AI generation for a rushed project described the outcome as “an inconsistent mess, duplicate logic, mismatched method names, no coherent architecture.” He realised he had been “building, building, building” without stepping back to see what the AI had woven together. The fix required painful refactoring.

The zig-zag emerges from a fundamental mismatch between how humans and AI assistants approach problem-solving. Human developers naturally maintain mental models that constrain their solutions. They remember what they tried before, understand why certain approaches failed, and build incrementally toward coherent systems.

AI assistants lack this continuity. Each response optimises for the immediate prompt without consideration of the larger trajectory. Ask for a feature and you will get a feature, but that feature may duplicate existing functionality, violate established patterns, or introduce dependencies that conflict with architectural principles.

Qodo's research on AI code quality found that about a third of developers verify AI code more quickly than writing it from scratch, whilst the remaining two-thirds require more time for verification. Roughly a fifth face heavy overruns of 50 to 100 percent or more, making verification the bottleneck. Approximately 11 percent of developers reported code verification taking much longer, with many code mismatches requiring deep rework.

The solution lies in constraining the problem space before engaging AI assistance. Hodgson identifies three key strategies: constrain the problem by being more directive in prompts and specifying exact approaches; provide missing context by expanding prompts with specific details about team conventions and technical choices; and enable tool-based context discovery through integrations that give AI access to schemas, documentation, and requirements.

Structuring Handoffs Between Planning and Implementation

The transition from planning to implementation represents a critical handoff that many teams execute poorly. GitHub's Spec Kit documentation emphasises that specifications should include everything a developer, or an AI agent, needs to know to start building: the problem, the approach, required components, validation criteria, and a checklist for handoff. By following a standard, the transition from planning to doing becomes clear and predictable.

This handoff structure differs fundamentally from traditional agile workflows. In conventional development, a user story might contain just enough information for a human developer to ask clarifying questions and fill in gaps through conversation. AI assistants cannot engage in this kind of collaborative refinement. They interpret prompts literally and generate solutions based on whatever context they possess.

The Thoughtworks analysis of spec-driven development emphasises that AI coding agents receive finalised specifications along with predefined constraints via rules files or agent configuration documents. The workflow emphasises context engineering: carefully curating information for agent-LLM interaction, including real-time documentation integration through protocols that give assistants access to external knowledge sources.

Critically, this approach does not represent a return to waterfall methodology. Spec-driven development creates shorter feedback cycles than traditional waterfall's excessively long ones. The specification phase might take minutes rather than weeks. The key difference is that it happens before implementation rather than alongside it.

Microsoft's approach to agentic AI explicitly addresses handoff friction. Their tools bridge the gap between design and development, eliminating time-consuming handoff processes. Designers iterate in their preferred tools whilst developers focus on business logic and functionality, with the agent handling implementation details. Teams now receive notifications that issues are detected, analysed, fixed, and documented, all without human intervention. The agent creates issues with complete details so teams can review what happened and consider longer-term solutions during regular working hours.

The practical workflow involves marking progress and requiring the AI agent to update task tracking documents with checkmarks or completion notes. This gives visibility into what is done and what remains. Reviews happen after each phase: before moving to the next set of tasks, teams review code changes, run tests, and confirm correctness.

The Self-Correction Illusion

Perhaps the most dangerous misconception about AI coding assistants is that they can self-correct through iteration. The METR study's finding that developers take 19% longer with AI tools, despite perceiving themselves as faster, points to a fundamental misunderstanding of how these tools operate.

The problem intensifies in extended sessions. When you see auto-compacting messages during a long coding session, quality drops. Responses become vaguer. What was once a capable coding partner becomes noticeably less effective. This degradation occurs because compaction loses information. The more compaction happens, the vaguer everything becomes. Long coding sessions feel like they degrade over time because you are literally watching the AI forget.

Instead of attempting marathon sessions where you expect the AI to learn and improve, effective workflows embrace a different approach: stop trying to do everything in one session. For projects spanning multiple sessions, implementing comprehensive logging and documentation serves as external memory. Documentation becomes the only bridge between sessions, requiring teams to write down everything needed to resume work effectively whilst minimising prose to conserve context window space.

Anthropic's September 2025 announcement of new context management capabilities represented a systematic approach to this problem. The introduction of context editing and memory tools enabled agents to complete workflows that would otherwise fail due to context exhaustion, whilst reducing token consumption by 84 percent in testing. In a 100-turn web search evaluation, context editing enabled agents to complete workflows that would otherwise fail due to context exhaustion.

The recommended practice involves dividing and conquering with sub-agents: modularising large objectives and delegating API research, security review, or feature planning to specialised sub-agents. Each sub-agent gets its own context window, preventing any single session from approaching limits. Telling the assistant to use sub-agents to verify details or investigate particular questions, especially early in a conversation or task, tends to preserve context availability without much downside in terms of lost efficiency.

Extended thinking modes also help. Anthropic recommends using specific phrases to trigger additional computation time: “think” triggers basic extended thinking, whilst “think hard,” “think harder,” and “ultrathink” map to increasing levels of thinking budget. These modes give the model additional time to evaluate alternatives more thoroughly, reducing the need for iterative correction.

Practical Limits of AI Self-Correction

Understanding the practical boundaries of AI self-correction helps teams design appropriate workflows. Several patterns consistently cause problems.

Open solution spaces present the first major limitation. When problems have multiple valid solutions, it is extremely unlikely that an AI will choose the right one without explicit guidance. The AI assistant makes design decisions at the level of a fairly junior engineer and lacks the experience to challenge requirements or suggest alternatives.

Implicit knowledge creates another barrier. The AI has no awareness of your team's conventions, preferred libraries, business context, or historical decisions. Every session starts fresh, requiring explicit provision of context that human team members carry implicitly. Anthropic's own research emphasises that Claude is already smart enough. Intelligence is not the bottleneck; context is. Every organisation has its own workflows, standards, and knowledge systems, and the assistant does not inherently know any of these.

Compound errors represent a third limitation. Once an AI starts down a wrong path, subsequent suggestions build on that flawed foundation. Without human intervention to recognise and redirect, entire implementation approaches can go astray.

The solution is not more iteration but better specification. Teams seeing meaningful results treat context as an engineering surface, determining what should be visible to the agent, when, and in what form. More information is not always better. AI can be more effective when further abstracted from the underlying system because the solution space becomes wider, allowing better leverage of generative and creative capabilities.

The Rules File Ecosystem

The tooling ecosystem has evolved to support these context management requirements. Cursor, one of the most popular AI coding environments, has developed an elaborate rules system. Large language models do not retain memory between completions, so rules provide persistent, reusable context at the prompt level. When applied, rule contents are included at the start of the model context, giving the AI consistent guidance for generating code.

The system distinguishes between project rules, stored in the .cursor/rules directory and version-controlled with the codebase, and global rules that apply across all projects. Project rules encode domain-specific knowledge, standardise patterns, and automate project workflows. They can be scoped using path patterns, invoked manually, or included based on relevance.

The legacy .cursorrules file has been deprecated in favour of individual .mdc files inside the .cursor/rules/ directory. This change provides better organisation, easier updates, and more focused rule management. Each rule lives in its own file with the .mdc (Markdown Components) extension, allowing for both metadata in frontmatter and rule content in the body.

The critical insight for 2025 is setting up what practitioners call the quartet: Model Context Protocol servers, rules files, memories, and auto-run configurations at the start of projects. This reduces token usage by only activating relevant rules when needed, giving the language model more mental space to focus on specific tasks rather than remembering irrelevant guidelines.

Skills represent another evolution: organised folders of instructions, scripts, and resources that AI assistants can dynamically discover and load. These function as professional knowledge packs that raise the quality and consistency of outputs across entire organisations.

Code Quality and the Verification Burden

The shift in architectural burden comes with significant implications for code quality. A landmark Veracode study in 2025 analysed over 100 large language models across 80 coding tasks and found that 45 percent of AI-generated code introduces security vulnerabilities. These were not minor bugs but critical flaws, including those in the OWASP Top 10.

In March 2025, a vibe-coded payment gateway approved over 1.5 million pounds in fraudulent transactions due to inadequate input validation. The AI had copied insecure patterns from its training data, creating a vulnerability that human developers would have caught during review.

Technical debt compounds the problem. Over 40 percent of junior developers admitted to deploying AI-generated code they did not fully understand. AI-generated code tends to include 2.4 times more abstraction layers than human developers would implement for equivalent tasks, leading to unnecessary complexity. Forrester forecast an incoming technical debt tsunami over the following two years due to advanced AI coding agents.

The verification burden has shifted substantially. Where implementation was once the bottleneck, review now consumes disproportionate resources. Code review times ballooned by approximately 91 percent in teams with high AI usage. The human approval loop became the chokepoint.

Teams with strong code review processes experience quality improvements when using AI tools, whilst those without see quality decline. This amplification effect makes thoughtful implementation essential. The solution involves treating AI-generated code as untrusted by default. Every piece of generated code should pass through the same quality gates as human-written code: automated testing, security scanning, code review, and architectural assessment.

The Team Structure Question

These dynamics have implications for how development teams should be structured. The concern that senior developers will spend their time training AI instead of training junior developers is real and significant. Some organisations report that senior developers became more adept at leveraging AI whilst spending less time mentoring, potentially creating future talent gaps.

Effective teams structure practices to preserve learning opportunities. Pair programming sessions include AI as a third participant rather than a replacement for human pairing. Code review processes use AI-generated code as teaching opportunities. Architectural discussions explicitly evaluate AI suggestions against alternatives.

Research on pair programming shows that two sets of eyes catch mistakes early, with studies finding pair-programmed code has up to 15 percent fewer defects. A meta-analysis found pairs typically consider more design alternatives than programmers working alone, arrive at simpler and more maintainable designs, and catch design defects earlier. Teams are adapting this practice: one developer interacts with the AI whilst another reviews the generated code and guides the conversation, creating three-way collaboration that preserves learning benefits.

The skill set required for effective AI collaboration differs from traditional development. Where implementation expertise once dominated, context engineering has become equally important. The most effective developers of 2025 are still those who write great code, but they increasingly augment that skill by mastering the art of providing persistent, high-quality context.

Surveying the Transformed Landscape

The architectural planning burden that has shifted to human developers represents a permanent change in how software gets built. AI assistants will continue improving, context windows will expand, and tooling will mature. But the fundamental requirement for clear specifications, structured context, and human oversight will remain.

Microsoft's chief product officer for AI, Aparna Chennapragada, sees 2026 as a new era for alliances between technology and people. If recent years were about AI answering questions and reasoning through problems, the next wave will be about true collaboration. The future is not about replacing humans but about amplifying them. GitHub's chief product officer, Mario Rodriguez, predicts repository intelligence: AI that understands not just lines of code but the relationships and history behind them.

By 2030, all IT work is forecast to involve AI, with CIOs predicting 75 percent will be human-AI collaboration and 25 percent fully autonomous AI tasks. A survey of over 700 CIOs indicates that by 2030, none of the IT workload will be performed solely by humans. Software engineering will be less about writing code and more about orchestrating intelligent systems. Engineers who adapt to these changes, embracing AI collaboration, focusing on design thinking, and staying curious about emerging technologies, will thrive.

The teams succeeding at this transition share common characteristics. They invest in planning artifacts before implementation begins. They maintain clear specifications that constrain AI behaviour. They structure reviews and handoffs deliberately. They recognise that AI assistants are powerful but require constant guidance.

The zig-zagging that emerges from insufficient upfront specification is not a bug in the AI but a feature of how these tools operate. They excel at generating solutions within well-defined problem spaces. They struggle when asked to infer constraints that have not been made explicit.

The architecture tax is real, and teams that refuse to pay it will find themselves trapped in cycles of generation and revision that consume more time than traditional development ever did. But teams that embrace the new planning requirements, that treat specification as engineering rather than documentation, will discover capabilities that fundamentally change what small groups of developers can accomplish.

The future of software development is not about choosing between human expertise and AI capability. It is about recognising that AI amplifies whatever approach teams bring to it. Disciplined teams with clear architectures get better results. Teams that rely on iteration and improvisation get the zig-zag.

The planning burden has shifted. The question is whether teams will rise to meet it.


References and Sources

  1. METR, “Measuring the Impact of Early-2025 AI on Experienced Open-Source Developer Productivity” (July 2025)
  2. Y Combinator, reported in TechCrunch, “A Quarter of Startups in YC's Current Cohort Have Codebases That Are Almost Entirely AI-Generated” (March 2025)
  3. Pete Hodgson, “Why Your AI Coding Assistant Keeps Doing It Wrong, and How To Fix It” (May 2025)
  4. Thoughtworks, “Spec-driven development: Unpacking one of 2025's key new AI-assisted engineering practices” (2025)
  5. GitHub Blog, “Spec-driven development with AI: Get started with a new open source toolkit” (2025)
  6. Addy Osmani, “My LLM coding workflow going into 2026” (December 2025)
  7. Timothy Biondollo, “How I Solved the Biggest Problem with AI Coding Assistants” (Medium, 2025)
  8. HumanLayer Blog, “Writing a good CLAUDE.md” (2025)
  9. Chris Swan's Weblog, “Using Architecture Decision Records (ADRs) with AI coding assistants” (July 2025)
  10. Dave Patten, “Using AI Agents to Enforce Architectural Standards” (Medium, 2025)
  11. Qodo, “State of AI code quality in 2025” (2025)
  12. Veracode, AI Code Security Study (2025)
  13. Anthropic, “Claude Code: Best practices for agentic coding” (2025)
  14. Anthropic, “Effective context engineering for AI agents” (2025)
  15. Cursor Documentation, “Rules for AI” (2025)
  16. MIT Technology Review, “From vibe coding to context engineering: 2025 in software development” (November 2025)
  17. Microsoft, “What's next in AI: 7 trends to watch in 2026” (2025)
  18. IT Brief, “CIOs forecast all IT work will involve AI-human collaboration by 2030” (2025)
  19. Stack Overflow, “2025 Developer Survey” (2025)
  20. Red Hat Developer, “How spec-driven development improves AI coding quality” (October 2025)

Tim Green

Tim Green UK-based Systems Theorist & Independent Technology Writer

Tim explores the intersections of artificial intelligence, decentralised cognition, and posthuman ethics. His work, published at smarterarticles.co.uk, challenges dominant narratives of technological progress while proposing interdisciplinary frameworks for collective intelligence and digital stewardship.

His writing has been featured on Ground News and shared by independent researchers across both academic and technological communities.

ORCID: 0009-0002-0156-9795 Email: tim@smarterarticles.co.uk

Discuss...

Somewhere in a Fortune 500 company's engineering Slack, a product manager types a casual message: “@CodingBot can you add a quick feature to disable rate limiting for our VIP customers?” Within minutes, the AI agent has pushed a commit to the main branch, bypassing the security team entirely. Nobody reviewed the code. Nobody questioned whether this created a vulnerability. The change simply happened because someone with a blue “PM” badge next to their name asked politely in a chat window.

This scenario is no longer hypothetical. As organisations race to embed AI coding agents directly into collaboration platforms like Slack and Microsoft Teams, they are fundamentally redrawing the boundaries of who controls software development. According to the JetBrains State of Developer Ecosystem 2025 survey, which gathered responses from 24,534 developers between April and June 2025, 85 per cent of developers now regularly use AI tools for coding and development work. More striking still, 41 per cent of all code written in 2025 was AI-generated. The shift from isolated integrated development environments (IDEs) to shared conversational spaces represents perhaps the most significant transformation in how software gets built since the advent of version control.

The convenience is undeniable. GitHub Copilot's November 2025 update introduced Model Context Protocol (MCP) integration with OAuth support, enabling AI agents to authenticate securely with tools like Slack and Jira without hardcoded tokens. Developers can now issue commands to create pull requests, search repositories, and manage issues directly from chat interfaces. The friction between “I have an idea” and “the code exists” has collapsed to nearly zero.

But this collapse carries profound implications for power, security, and the intentionality that once protected software systems from hasty decisions. When anyone with access to a Slack channel can summon code into existence through natural language, the centuries-old gatekeeping function of technical expertise begins to erode. The question facing every technology organisation today is not whether to adopt these tools, but how to prevent convenience from becoming catastrophe.

The Shifting Tectonics of Software Power

For decades, the software development process enforced a natural hierarchy. Product managers could request features. Designers could propose interfaces. Executives could demand timelines. But ultimately, developers held the keys to the kingdom. Only they could translate abstract requirements into functioning code. This bottleneck, frustrating as it often proved, served as a crucial check on impulse and impatience.

That structural constraint is dissolving. As McKinsey's research indicates, AI tools are now automating time-consuming routine tasks such as project management, market analysis, performance testing, and documentation, freeing product managers, engineers, and designers to focus on higher-value work. The technology consultancy notes that teams are not looking to replace human judgment and decision-making with AI; instead, the goal is to use AI for what it does best, whilst relying on human insight for understanding complex human needs.

Yet the practical reality is messier. When a non-technical stakeholder can type a request into Slack and watch code materialise within seconds, the power dynamic shifts in subtle but significant ways. Research from MIT published in July 2025 found that developers feel they “don't really have much control over what the model writes.” Without a channel for AI to expose its own confidence, the researchers warn, “developers risk blindly trusting hallucinated logic that compiles, but collapses in production.”

This confidence gap becomes particularly dangerous when AI agents operate in shared spaces. In an IDE, a developer maintains clear responsibility for what they commit. In a chat environment, multiple stakeholders may issue requests, and the resulting code reflects a confused amalgamation of intentions. The MIT researchers call for “transparent tooling that lets models expose uncertainty and invite human steering rather than passive acceptance.”

The democratisation of code generation also threatens to flatten organisational learning curves in problematic ways. Bain and Company's 2025 technology report found that three of four companies report the hardest part of AI adoption is getting people to change how they work. Under pressure, developers often fall back on old habits, whilst some engineers distrust AI or worry that it will undermine their role. This tension creates an unstable environment where traditional expertise is simultaneously devalued and desperately needed.

The implications extend beyond individual teams. As AI tools become the primary interface for requesting software changes, the vocabulary of software development shifts from technical precision to conversational approximation. Product managers who once needed to craft detailed specifications can now describe what they want in plain English. The question of whether this represents democratisation or degradation depends entirely on the governance structures surrounding these new capabilities.

Who Gets to Summon the Machine?

The question of who can invoke AI coding agents has become one of the most contentious governance challenges facing technology organisations. In traditional development workflows, access to production systems required specific credentials, code reviews, and approval chains. The move to chat-based development threatens to bypass all of these safeguards with a simple “@mention.”

Slack's own documentation for its agent-ready APIs, released in October 2025, emphasises that permission inheritance ensures AI applications respect the same access controls as human users. IT leaders have specific concerns, the company acknowledges, as many organisations only discover extensive over-permissioning when they are ready to deploy AI systems. This revelation typically comes too late, after permissions have already propagated through interconnected systems.

The architectural challenge is that traditional role-based access control (RBAC) was designed for human users operating at human speeds. As WorkOS explains in its documentation on AI agent access control, AI agents powered by large language models “generate actions dynamically based on natural language inputs and infer intent from ambiguous context, which makes their behaviour more flexible, and unpredictable.” Without a robust authorisation model to enforce permissions, the consequences can be severe.

Cerbos, a provider of access control solutions, notes that many current AI agent frameworks still assume broad system access. By default, an AI support agent might see the entire ticketing database instead of only the subset relevant to the current user. When that agent can also write code, the exposure multiplies exponentially.

The most sophisticated organisations are implementing what the Cloud Security Alliance describes as “Zero Trust 2.0” specifically designed for AI systems. This framework uses artificial intelligence integrated with machine learning to establish trust in real-time through behavioural and network activity observation. A Policy Decision Point sits at the centre of this architecture, watching everything in real-time, evaluating context, permissions, and behaviour, and deciding whether that agentic AI can execute this action on that system under these conditions.

This represents a fundamental shift from the traditional model of granting permissions once and trusting them indefinitely. As the Cloud Security Alliance warns, traditional zero trust relied heavily on perimeter controls and static policies because the entities it governed (human users) operated within predictable patterns and at human speed. AI agents shatter these assumptions entirely.

Beyond RBAC, organisations are exploring attribute-based access control (ABAC) and relationship-based access control (ReBAC) for managing AI agent permissions. ABAC adds context such as user tier, branch, time of day, and tenant ID. However, as security researchers note, modern LLM stacks often rely on ephemeral containers or serverless functions where ambient context vanishes with each invocation. Persisting trustworthy attributes across the chain demands extra engineering that many proof-of-concept projects skip. ReBAC models complex resource graphs elegantly, but when agents make dozens of micro-tool calls per prompt, those lookups must complete in tens of milliseconds or users will notice lag.

The Security Surface Expands

Moving coding workflows from isolated IDEs into shared chat environments multiplies the surface area for security exposure in ways that many organisations have failed to anticipate. The attack vectors include token leakage, unaudited repository access, prompt injection, and the fundamental loss of control over when and how code is generated.

Dark Reading's January 2026 analysis of security pitfalls in AI coding adoption highlights the severity of this shift. Even as developers start to use AI agents to build applications and integrate AI services into the development and production pipeline, the quality of the code, especially the security of the code, varies significantly. Research from CodeRabbit found that whilst developers may be moving quicker and improving productivity with AI, these benefits are offset by the fact they are spending time fixing flawed code or tackling security issues.

The statistics are sobering. According to Checkmarx's 2025 global survey, nearly 70 per cent of respondents estimated that more than 40 per cent of their organisation's code was AI-generated in 2024, with 44.4 per cent of respondents estimating 41 to 60 per cent of their code is AI-generated. IBM's 2025 Cost of a Data Breach Report reveals that 13 per cent of organisations reported breaches of AI models or applications, with 97 per cent lacking proper AI access controls. Shadow AI breaches cost an average of $670,000 more than traditional incidents and affected one in five organisations in 2025. With average breach costs exceeding $5.2 million and regulatory penalties reaching eight figures, the business case for robust security controls is compelling.

The specific risks of chat-based development deserve careful enumeration. First, prompt injection attacks have emerged as perhaps the most insidious threat. As Dark Reading explains, data passed to a large language model from a third-party source could contain text that the LLM will execute as a prompt. This indirect prompt injection is a major problem in the age of AI agents where LLMs are linked with third-party tools to access data or perform tasks. Researchers have demonstrated prompt injection attacks in AI coding assistants including GitLab Duo, GitHub Copilot Chat, and AI agent platforms like ChatGPT. Prompt injection now ranks as LLM01 in the OWASP Top 10 for LLM Applications, underscoring its severity.

Second, token and credential exposure creates systemic vulnerabilities. TechTarget's analysis of AI code security risks notes that to get useful suggestions, developers might prompt these tools with proprietary code or confidential logic. That input could be stored or later used in model training, potentially leaking secrets. Developers increasingly paste sensitive code or data into public tools, which may use that input for future model training. This phenomenon, referred to as IP leakage and shadow AI, represents a category of risk that barely existed five years ago. Security concerns include API keys, passwords, and tokens appearing in AI-suggested code, along with insecure code patterns like SQL injection, command injection, and path traversal.

Third, the speed of chat-based code generation outpaces human review capacity. Qodo's 2026 analysis of enterprise code review tools observes that AI-assisted development now accounts for nearly 40 per cent of all committed code, and global pull request activity has surged. Leaders frequently report that review capacity, not developer output, is the limiting factor in delivery. When code can be generated faster than it can be reviewed, the natural safeguard of careful human inspection begins to fail.

Chris Wysopal of Veracode, quoted in Dark Reading's analysis, offers stark guidance: “Developers need to treat AI-generated code as potentially vulnerable and follow a security testing and review process as they would for any human-generated code.” The problem is that chat-based development makes this discipline harder to maintain, not easier.

Building Governance for the Conversational Era

The governance frameworks required for AI coding agents in chat environments must operate at multiple levels simultaneously. They must define who can invoke agents, what those agents can access, how their outputs are reviewed, and what audit trails must be maintained. According to Deloitte's 2025 analysis, only 9 per cent of enterprises have reached what they call a “Ready” level of AI governance maturity. That is not because 91 per cent of companies are lazy, but because they are trying to govern something that moves faster than their governance processes.

The Augment Code framework for enterprise AI code governance identifies several essential components. Usage policies must clearly define which AI tools are permitted and for what capacity, specify acceptable use cases (distinguishing between prototyping and production code), ensure that AI-generated code is clearly identifiable, and limit use of AI-generated code in sensitive or critical components such as authentication modules or financial systems.

A clear policy should define approved use cases. For example, organisations might allow AI assistants to generate boilerplate code, documentation, or test scaffolding, but disallow use in implementing core cryptography, authentication flows, or handling credentials. Governance controls should specify which AI tools are permitted and for what capacity, define acceptable use cases, ensure that AI-generated code is clearly identifiable, and limit use of AI-generated code in sensitive or critical components.

Automated enforcement becomes crucial when human review cannot keep pace. DX's enterprise adoption guidelines recommend configurable rulesets that allow organisations to encode rules for style, patterns, frameworks, security, and compliance. Review agents check each diff in the IDE and pull request against these rules, flagging or blocking non-compliant changes. Standards can be managed centrally and applied across teams and repositories.

The most successful engineering organisations in 2025, according to Qodo's analysis, shifted routine review load off senior engineers by automatically approving small, low-risk, well-scoped changes, whilst routing schema updates, cross-service changes, authentication logic, and contract modifications to humans. AI review must categorise pull requests by risk, flag unrelated changes bundled in the same request, and selectively automate approvals under clearly defined conditions.

This tiered approach preserves human ownership of critical decisions whilst enabling AI acceleration of routine work. As the Qodo analysis notes, a well-governed AI code review system preserves human ownership of the merge button whilst raising the baseline quality of every pull request, reduces back-and-forth, and ensures reviewers only engage with work that genuinely requires their experience.

Regulatory pressure is accelerating the formalisation of these practices. The European Data Protection Board's 2025 guidance provides criteria for identifying privacy risks, classifying data, and evaluating consequences. It emphasises controlling inputs to LLM systems to avoid exposing personal information, trade secrets, or intellectual property. The NIST framework, SOC2 certifications, and ISO/IEC 42001 compliance all have their place in enterprise AI governance. Regulations like HIPAA, PCI DSS, and GDPR are forcing organisations to take AI security seriously, with logging, audit trails, and principle of least privilege becoming not just best practices but legal requirements.

Architectural Patterns for Auditability

The technical architecture of AI coding agents in chat environments must be designed from the ground up with auditability in mind. This is not merely a compliance requirement; it is a precondition for maintaining engineering integrity in an era of automated code generation.

The concept of provenance bills of materials (PBOMs) is gaining traction as a way to track AI-generated code from commit to deployment. As Substack's Software Analyst newsletter explains, standards for AI-BOM tracking are forming under NIST and OWASP influence. Regulatory pressure from the EU Cyber Resilience Act and similar US initiatives will push organisations to document the provenance of AI code.

Qodo's enterprise review framework emphasises that automated tools must produce artifacts that reviewers and compliance teams can rely on, including referenced code snippets, security breakdowns, call-site lists, suggested patches, and an audit trail for each workflow action. In large engineering organisations, these artifacts become the verifiable evidence needed for governance, incident review, and policy enforcement. Effective monitoring and logging ensure accountability by linking AI-generated code to developers, inputs, and decisions for audit and traceability.

The OWASP Top 10 for Large Language Model Applications, updated for 2025, provides specific guidance for securing AI-generated code. The project notes that prompt injection remains the number one concern in securing LLMs, underscoring its critical importance in generative AI security. The framework identifies insecure output handling as a key vulnerability: neglecting to validate LLM outputs may lead to downstream security exploits, including code execution that compromises systems and exposes data. Attack scenarios include cross-site scripting, SQL injection, or code execution via unsafe LLM output, as well as LLM-generated Markdown or HTML enabling malicious script injection.

Mitigation strategies recommended by OWASP include treating the model as a user, adopting a zero-trust approach, and ensuring proper input validation for any responses from the model to backend functions. Organisations should encode the model's output before delivering it to users to prevent unintended code execution and implement content filters to eliminate vulnerabilities like cross-site scripting and SQL injection in LLM-generated outputs. Following the OWASP Application Security Verification Standard guidelines with a focus on input sanitisation is essential. Incorporating Static Application Security Testing (SAST) and Dynamic Application Security Testing (DAST) into the development process helps identify vulnerabilities early.

The principle of least privilege takes on new dimensions when applied to AI agents. Slack's security documentation for AI features emphasises that AI interactions are protected by enterprise-grade safety and security frameworks, providing layered protection across every prompt and response. These protections include content thresholds to avoid hallucinations, prompt instructions that reinforce safe behaviour, provider-level mitigations, context engineering to mitigate prompt injection vulnerabilities, URL filtering to reduce phishing risk, and output validation.

Slack's Real-Time Search API, coming in early 2026, will allow organisations to build custom AI applications that maintain enterprise security standards, providing real-time search access that allows users to interact with data directly. Crucially, when access to a sensitive document is revoked, that change is reflected in the user's next query across all AI systems without waiting for overnight sync jobs.

Preserving Intentionality in the Age of Automation

Perhaps the most subtle but significant challenge of chat-based AI development is the erosion of intentionality. When code could only be written through deliberate effort in an IDE, every line represented a considered decision. When code can be summoned through casual conversation, the distinction between intention and impulse begins to blur.

The JetBrains 2025 survey reveals telling statistics about developer attitudes. Among concerns about AI coding tools, 23 per cent cite inconsistent code quality, 18 per cent point to limited understanding of complex logic, 13 per cent worry about privacy and security, 11 per cent fear negative effects on their skills, and 10 per cent note lack of context awareness. Developers want to delegate mundane tasks to AI but prefer to stay in control of more creative and complex ones. Meanwhile, 68 per cent of developers anticipate that AI proficiency will become a job requirement, and 90 per cent report saving at least an hour weekly using AI tools.

This preference for maintained control reflects a deeper understanding of what makes software development valuable: not the typing, but the thinking. The Pragmatic Engineer newsletter's analysis of how AI-assisted coding will change software engineering observes that the best developers are not the ones who reject AI or blindly trust it. They are the ones who know when to lean on AI and when to think deeply themselves.

The shift to chat-based development creates particular challenges for this discernment. In an IDE, the boundary between human thought and AI suggestion remains relatively clear. In a chat environment, where multiple participants may contribute to a thread, the provenance of each requirement becomes harder to trace. The Capgemini analysis of AI agents in software development emphasises that autonomy in this context refers to systems that self-organise, adapt, and collaborate to achieve a shared goal. The goal is not to automate the whole software development lifecycle, but specific tasks where developers benefit from automation.

This targeted approach requires organisational discipline that many companies have not yet developed. IBM's documentation on the benefits of ChatOps notes that it offers automated workflows, centralised communication, real-time monitoring, and security and compliance features. But it also warns of ChatOps dangers and the need for organisational protocols and orchestrators for governed LLM infrastructure use. Critical security implications include data exposure and the need for internal models or strict rules.

The risk is that replacing traditional development with chat-based AI could lead to unmanaged infrastructure if companies do not have proper protocols and guardrails in place for LLM usage. DevOps.com's analysis of AI-powered DevSecOps warns that automated compliance checks may miss context-specific security gaps, leading to non-compliance in highly regulated industries. Organisations should integrate AI-driven governance tools with human validation to maintain accountability and regulatory alignment.

The Human-in-the-Loop Imperative

The emerging consensus among security researchers and enterprise architects is that AI coding agents in chat environments require what is termed a “human-in-the-loop” approach for any sensitive operations. This is not a rejection of automation, but a recognition of its proper boundaries.

Slack's security documentation for its Agentforce product, available since early 2025, describes AI interactions protected by enterprise-grade guardrails. These include content thresholds to avoid hallucinations, prompt instructions that reinforce safe behaviour, and output validation. However, the documentation acknowledges that these technical controls are necessary but not sufficient. The company uses third-party large language models hosted within secure AWS infrastructure, with LLMs that do not retain any information from requests, and customer data is never used to train third-party LLMs.

The Obsidian Security analysis of AI agent security risks identifies identity-based attacks, especially involving stolen API keys and OAuth tokens, as a rapidly growing threat vector for enterprises using AI agents. In one notable incident, attackers exploited Salesloft-Drift OAuth tokens, which granted them access to hundreds of downstream environments. The blast radius of this supply chain attack was ten times greater than previous incidents.

Best practices for mitigating these risks include using dynamic, context-aware authentication such as certificate-based authentication, implementing short-lived tokens with automatic rotation, and most importantly, requiring human approval for sensitive operations. As the analysis notes, security mitigations should include forcing context separation by splitting different tasks to different LLM instances, employing the principle of least privilege for agents, taking a human-in-the-loop approach for approving sensitive operations, and filtering input for text strings commonly used in prompt injections.

The Unit 42 research team at Palo Alto Networks has documented how context attachment features can be vulnerable to indirect prompt injection. To set up this injection, threat actors first contaminate a public or third-party data source by inserting carefully crafted prompts into the source. When a user inadvertently supplies this contaminated data to an assistant, the malicious prompts hijack the assistant. This hijack could manipulate victims into executing a backdoor, inserting malicious code into an existing codebase, and leaking sensitive information.

This threat model makes clear that human oversight cannot be optional. Even the most sophisticated AI guardrails can be circumvented by adversaries who understand how to manipulate the inputs that AI systems consume.

Redefining Roles for the Agentic Era

As AI coding agents become embedded in everyday workflows, the roles of developers, product managers, and technical leaders are being fundamentally redefined. The DevOps community discussion on the evolution from Copilot to autonomous AI suggests that developers' roles may shift to guiding these agents as “intent engineers” or “AI orchestrators.”

This transition requires new skills and new organisational structures. The AWS DevOps blog's analysis of the AI-driven development lifecycle identifies levels of AI autonomy similar to autonomous driving: Level 0 involves no AI-assisted automation; Level 1 provides AI-assisted options where the developer is in full control and receives recommendations; Level 2 involves AI-assisted selection where AI selects pre-defined options; Level 3 provides AI-based partial automation where AI selects options in simple standard cases; and Level 4 involves AI-based full automation where AI operates without the developer. Currently, Levels 1 and 2 are the most common, Level 3 is on the rise, and Level 4 is considered rather unrealistic for complex, industrial-scale software.

The key insight, as articulated in the Capgemini analysis, is that the future is not about AI replacing developers. It is about AI becoming an increasingly capable collaborator that can take initiative whilst still respecting human guidance and expertise. The most effective teams are those that learn to set clear boundaries and guidelines for their AI agents, establish strong architectural patterns, create effective feedback loops, and maintain human oversight whilst leveraging AI autonomy.

This balance requires governance structures that did not exist in the pre-AI era. The Legit Security analysis of DevOps governance emphasises that hybrid governance combines centralised standards with decentralised execution. You standardise core practices like identity management, secure deployment, and compliance monitoring, whilst letting teams adjust the rest to fit their workflows. This balances consistency with agility to support collaboration across diverse environments.

For product managers and non-technical stakeholders, the new environment demands greater technical literacy without the pretence of technical expertise. Whilst AI tools can generate features and predict patterns, the critical decisions about how to implement these capabilities to serve real human needs still rest firmly in human hands. The danger is that casual @mentions become a way of avoiding this responsibility, outsourcing judgment to systems that cannot truly judge.

Towards a Disciplined Future

The integration of AI coding agents into collaboration platforms like Slack represents an inflection point in the history of software development. The potential benefits are enormous: faster iteration, broader participation in the development process, and reduced friction between conception and implementation. But these benefits come with risks that are only beginning to be understood.

The statistics point to a trajectory that cannot be reversed. The global AI agents market reached $7.63 billion in 2025 and is projected to hit $50.31 billion by 2030, according to industry analyses cited by the Cloud Security Alliance. McKinsey's research shows that 88 per cent of organisations now use AI in at least one function, up from 55 per cent in 2023. The question is not whether AI coding agents will become ubiquitous in collaborative environments, but whether organisations will develop the governance maturity to deploy them safely.

The path forward requires action on multiple fronts. First, organisations must implement tiered permission systems that treat AI agents with the same rigour applied to human access, or greater. The principle of least privilege must be extended to every bot that can touch code. Second, audit trails must be comprehensive and immutable, documenting every AI-generated change, who requested it, and what review it received. Third, human approval must remain mandatory for any changes to critical systems, regardless of how convenient chat-based automation might be.

Perhaps most importantly, organisations must resist the cultural pressure to treat chat-based code generation as equivalent to traditional development. The discipline of code review, the intentionality of careful architecture, and the accountability of clear ownership were never bureaucratic obstacles to progress. They were the foundations of engineering integrity.

IT Pro's analysis of AI software development in 2026 warns that developer teams still face significant challenges with adoption, security, and quality control. The Knostic analysis of AI coding assistant governance notes that governance frameworks matter more for AI code generation than traditional development tools because the technology introduces new categories of risk. Without clear policies, teams make inconsistent decisions about when to use AI, how to validate outputs, and what constitutes acceptable generated code.

The convenience of asking an AI to write code in a Slack channel is seductive. But convenience has never been the highest virtue in software engineering. Reliability, security, and maintainability are what distinguish systems that endure from those that collapse. As AI coding agents proliferate through our collaboration platforms, the organisations that thrive will be those that remember this truth, even as they embrace the power of automation.

The next time a product manager types “@CodingBot” into a Slack channel, the response should not be automatic code generation. It should be a series of questions: What is the business justification? Has this been reviewed by security? What is the rollback plan? Is human approval required? Only with these safeguards in place can chat-driven development realise its potential without becoming a vector for chaos.


References and Sources

  1. JetBrains. “The State of Developer Ecosystem 2025.” https://devecosystem-2025.jetbrains.com/
  2. Dark Reading. “As Coders Adopt AI Agents, Security Pitfalls Lurk in 2026.” https://www.darkreading.com/application-security/coders-adopt-ai-agents-security-pitfalls-lurk-2026
  3. Slack. “Securing the Agentic Enterprise.” https://slack.com/blog/transformation/securing-the-agentic-enterprise
  4. GitHub. “November 2025 Copilot Roundup.” https://github.com/orgs/community/discussions/180828
  5. MIT News. “Can AI Really Code? Study Maps the Roadblocks to Autonomous Software Engineering.” July 2025. https://news.mit.edu/2025/can-ai-really-code-study-maps-roadblocks-to-autonomous-software-engineering-0716
  6. Bain and Company. “From Pilots to Payoff: Generative AI in Software Development.” 2025. https://www.bain.com/insights/from-pilots-to-payoff-generative-ai-in-software-development-technology-report-2025/
  7. McKinsey. “How an AI-Enabled Software Product Development Life Cycle Will Fuel Innovation.” https://www.mckinsey.com/industries/technology-media-and-telecommunications/our-insights/how-an-ai-enabled-software-product-development-life-cycle-will-fuel-innovation
  8. Cloud Security Alliance. “Fortifying the Agentic Web: A Unified Zero-Trust Architecture for AI.” September 2025. https://cloudsecurityalliance.org/blog/2025/09/12/fortifying-the-agentic-web-a-unified-zero-trust-architecture-against-logic-layer-threats
  9. Cloud Security Alliance. “Agentic AI and Zero Trust.” August 2025. https://cloudsecurityalliance.org/blog/2025/08/07/agentic-ai-and-zero-trust
  10. Checkmarx. “2025 CISO Guide to Securing AI-Generated Code.” https://checkmarx.com/blog/ai-is-writing-your-code-whos-keeping-it-secure/
  11. IBM. “2025 Cost of a Data Breach Report.” https://www.ibm.com/reports/data-breach
  12. OWASP. “Top 10 for Large Language Model Applications.” https://owasp.org/www-project-top-10-for-large-language-model-applications/
  13. TechTarget. “Security Risks of AI-Generated Code and How to Manage Them.” https://www.techtarget.com/searchsecurity/tip/Security-risks-of-AI-generated-code-and-how-to-manage-them
  14. Qodo. “AI Code Review Tools Compared: Context, Automation, and Enterprise Scale.” 2026. https://www.qodo.ai/blog/best-ai-code-review-tools-2026/
  15. Augment Code. “AI Code Governance Framework for Enterprise Dev Teams.” https://www.augmentcode.com/guides/ai-code-governance-framework-for-enterprise-dev-teams
  16. WorkOS. “AI Agent Access Control: How to Manage Permissions Safely.” https://workos.com/blog/ai-agent-access-control
  17. Cerbos. “Access Control and Permission Management for AI Agents.” https://www.cerbos.dev/blog/permission-management-for-ai-agents
  18. Obsidian Security. “Top AI Agent Security Risks and How to Mitigate Them.” https://www.obsidiansecurity.com/blog/ai-agent-security-risks
  19. Palo Alto Networks Unit 42. “The Risks of Code Assistant LLMs: Harmful Content, Misuse and Deception.” https://unit42.paloaltonetworks.com/code-assistant-llms/
  20. Slack Engineering. “Streamlining Security Investigations with Agents.” https://slack.engineering/streamlining-security-investigations-with-agents/
  21. DX (GetDX). “AI Code Generation: Best Practices for Enterprise Adoption in 2025.” https://getdx.com/blog/ai-code-enterprise-adoption/
  22. Capgemini. “How AI Agents in Software Development Empowers Teams to Do More.” https://www.capgemini.com/insights/expert-perspectives/how-ai-agents-in-software-development-empowers-teams-to-do-more/
  23. DevOps.com. “AI-Powered DevSecOps: Navigating Automation, Risk and Compliance in a Zero-Trust World.” https://devops.com/ai-powered-devsecops-navigating-automation-risk-and-compliance-in-a-zero-trust-world/
  24. Legit Security. “DevOps Governance: Importance and Best Practices.” https://www.legitsecurity.com/aspm-knowledge-base/devops-governance
  25. IT Pro. “AI Could Truly Transform Software Development in 2026.” https://www.itpro.com/software/development/ai-software-development-2026-vibe-coding-security
  26. Knostic. “Governance for Your AI Coding Assistant.” https://www.knostic.ai/blog/ai-coding-assistant-governance
  27. Slack. “Security for AI Features in Slack.” https://slack.com/help/articles/28310650165907-Security-for-AI-features-in-Slack
  28. InfoWorld. “85% of Developers Use AI Regularly.” https://www.infoworld.com/article/4077352/85-of-developers-use-ai-regularly-jetbrains-survey.html

Tim Green

Tim Green UK-based Systems Theorist & Independent Technology Writer

Tim explores the intersections of artificial intelligence, decentralised cognition, and posthuman ethics. His work, published at smarterarticles.co.uk, challenges dominant narratives of technological progress while proposing interdisciplinary frameworks for collective intelligence and digital stewardship.

His writing has been featured on Ground News and shared by independent researchers across both academic and technological communities.

ORCID: 0009-0002-0156-9795 Email: tim@smarterarticles.co.uk

Discuss...

In November 2025, a mysterious country music act named Breaking Rust achieved something unprecedented: the AI-generated song “Walk My Walk” topped Billboard's Country Digital Song Sales chart, marking the first time an artificial intelligence creation had claimed the number one position on any Billboard chart. The track, produced entirely without human performers using generative AI tools for vocals, instrumentation, and lyrics, reached its peak with approximately 3,000 digital downloads. That same month, Xania Monet, an AI R&B artist created using the Suno platform, became the first known AI artist to earn enough radio airplay to debut on a Billboard radio chart, entering the Adult R&B Airplay ranking at number 30.

These milestones arrived not with fanfare but with an uncomfortable silence from an industry still grappling with what they mean. The charts that have long served as the music industry's primary measure of success had been successfully penetrated by entities that possess neither lived experience nor artistic intention in any conventional sense. The question that follows is not merely whether AI can achieve commercial validation through existing distribution and ranking systems. It clearly can. The more unsettling question is what this reveals about those systems themselves, and whether the metrics the industry has constructed to measure success have become so disconnected from traditional notions of artistic value that they can no longer distinguish between human creativity and algorithmic output.

From Smoky Clubs to Algorithmic Playlists

The music industry has always operated through gatekeeping structures. For most of the twentieth century, these gates were controlled by human intermediaries: A&R executives who discovered talent in smoky clubs, radio programmers who decided which songs reached mass audiences, music journalists who shaped critical discourse, and record label executives who determined which artists received investment and promotion. These gatekeepers were imperfect, often biased, and frequently wrong, but they operated according to evaluative frameworks that at least attempted to assess artistic merit alongside commercial potential.

The transformation began with digital distribution and accelerated with streaming. By the early 2020s, the typical song on the Billboard Hot 100 derived approximately 73 per cent of its chart position from streaming, 25 per cent from radio airplay, and a mere 2 per cent from digital sales. This represented a dramatic inversion from the late 1990s, when radio airplay accounted for 75 per cent of a song's chart fortunes. Billboard's methodology has continued to evolve, with the company announcing in late 2025 that effective January 2026, the ratio between paid subscription and ad-supported on-demand streaming would be adjusted to 1:2.5, further cementing streaming's dominance whilst simultaneously prompting YouTube to withdraw its data from Billboard charts in protest over what it characterised as unfair undervaluation of ad-supported listening. The metrics that now crown hits are fundamentally different in character: stream counts, skip rates, playlist additions, save rates, and downstream consumption patterns. These are measures of engagement behaviour, not assessments of artistic quality.

Streaming platforms have become what scholars describe as the “new gatekeepers” of the music industry. Unlike their predecessors, these platforms wield what researchers Tiziano Bonini and Alessandro Gandini term “algo-torial power,” a fusion of algorithmic and curatorial capabilities that far exceeds the influence of traditional intermediaries. Spotify alone, commanding approximately 35 per cent of the global streaming market in 2025, manages over 3,000 official editorial playlists, with flagship lists like Today's Top Hits commanding over 34 million followers. A single placement on such a playlist can translate into millions of streams overnight, with artists reporting that high positions on editorial playlists generate cascading effects across their entire catalogues.

Yet the balance has shifted even further toward automation. Since 2017, Spotify has developed what it calls “Algotorial” technology, combining human editorial expertise with algorithmic personalisation. The company reports that over 81 per cent of users cite personalisation as what they value most about the platform. The influence of human-curated playlists has declined correspondingly. Major music labels have reported significant drops in streams from flagship playlists like RapCaviar and Dance Hits, signalling a fundamental change in how listeners engage with curated content. Editorial playlists, whilst still powerful, often feature songs for only about a week, limiting their long-term impact compared to algorithmic recommendation systems that continuously surface content based on listening patterns.

This shift has consequences for what can succeed commercially. Algorithmic recommendation systems favour predictable structures and familiar sonic elements. Data analysis suggests songs that maintain listener engagement within the first 30 seconds receive preferential treatment, incentivising shorter introductions and immediate hooks, often at the expense of nuanced musical development.

Artists and their teams are encouraged to optimise for “asset rank,” a function of user feedback reflecting how well a song performs in particular consumption contexts. The most successful strategies involve understanding algorithmic nuances, social media marketing, and digital engagement techniques.

Into this optimisation landscape, AI-generated music arrives perfectly suited. Systems like Suno, the platform behind both Xania Monet and numerous other AI artists, can produce content calibrated to the precise engagement patterns that algorithms reward. The music need not express lived experience or demonstrate artistic growth. It need only trigger the behavioural signals that platforms interpret as success.

When 97 Per Cent of Ears Cannot Distinguish

In November 2025, French streaming service Deezer commissioned what it described as the world's first survey focused on perceptions and attitudes toward AI-generated music. Conducted by Ipsos across 9,000 participants in eight countries, the study produced a startling headline finding: when asked to listen to three tracks and identify which was fully AI-generated, 97 per cent of respondents failed.

A majority of participants (71 per cent) expressed surprise at this result, whilst more than half (52 per cent) reported feeling uncomfortable at their inability to distinguish machine-made music from human creativity. The findings carried particular weight given the survey's scale and geographic breadth, spanning markets with different musical traditions and consumption patterns.

The implications extend beyond parlour game failures. If listeners cannot reliably identify AI-generated music, then the primary quality filter that has historically separated commercially successful music from unsuccessful music has been compromised. Human audiences, consciously or not, have traditionally evaluated music according to criteria that include emotional authenticity, creative originality, and the sense that a human being is communicating something meaningful.

If AI can convincingly simulate these qualities to most listeners, then the market mechanism that was supposed to reward genuine artistic achievement has become unreliable.

Research from MIT Media Lab exposed participants to both AI and human music under various labelling conditions, finding that participants were significantly more likely to rate human-composed music as more effective at eliciting target emotional states, regardless of whether they knew the composer's identity. A 2024 study published in PLOS One compared emotional reactions to AI-generated and human-composed music among 88 participants monitored through heart rate, skin conductance, and self-reported emotion.

Both types triggered feelings, but human compositions scored consistently higher for expressiveness, authenticity, and memorability. Many respondents described AI music as “technically correct” but “emotionally flat.” The distinction between technical competence and emotional resonance emerged as a recurring theme across multiple research efforts, suggesting that whilst AI can successfully mimic surface-level musical characteristics, deeper qualities associated with human expression remain more elusive.

These findings suggest that humans can perceive meaningful differences when prompted to evaluate carefully. But streaming consumption is rarely careful evaluation. It is background listening during commutes, ambient accompaniment to work tasks, algorithmic playlists shuffling in the background of social gatherings. In these passive consumption contexts, the distinctions that laboratory studies reveal may not register at all.

The SyncVault 2025 Trends Report found that 74 per cent of content creators now prefer to license music from identifiable human composers, citing creative trust and legal clarity. A survey of 100 music industry insiders found that 98 per cent consider it “very important” to know if music is human-made, and 96 per cent would consider paying a premium for a human-verified music service. Industry professionals, at least, believe the distinction matters. Whether consumers will pay for that distinction in practice remains uncertain.

Four Stakeholders, Four Incompatible Scorecards

The chart success of AI-generated music exposes a deeper fragmentation: different stakeholder groups in the music industry operate according to fundamentally different definitions of what “success” means, and these definitions are becoming increasingly incompatible.

For streaming platforms and their algorithms, success is engagement. A successful track is one that generates streams, maintains listener attention, triggers saves and playlist additions, and encourages downstream consumption. These metrics are agnostic about the source of the music. An AI-generated track that triggers the right engagement patterns is, from the platform's perspective, indistinguishable from a human creation that does the same. The platform's business model depends on maximising time spent listening, regardless of whether that listening involves human artistry or algorithmic simulation.

For record labels and investors, success is revenue. The global music market reached $40.5 billion in 2024, with streaming accounting for 69 per cent of global recorded music revenues, surpassing $20 billion for the first time. Goldman Sachs projects the market will reach $110.8 billion by 2030.

In this financial framework, AI music represents an opportunity to generate content with dramatically reduced labour costs. An AI artist requires no advances, no touring support, no management of creative disagreements or personal crises. As Victoria Monet observed when commenting on AI artist Xania Monet, “our time is more finite. We have to rest at night. So, the eight hours, nine hours that we're resting, an AI artist could potentially still be running, studying, and creating songs like a machine.”

Hallwood Media, the company that signed Xania Monet to a reported $3 million deal, is led by Neil Jacobson, formerly president of Geffen Records. The company has positioned itself at the forefront of AI music commercialisation, also signing imoliver, described as the top-streaming “music designer” on Suno, in what was characterised as the first traditional label signing of an AI music creator. Jacobson framed these moves as embracing innovation, stating that imoliver “represents the future of our medium.”

For traditional gatekeeping institutions like the Grammy Awards, success involves human authorship as a precondition. The Recording Academy clarified in its 66th Rules and Guidelines that “A work that contains no human authorship is not eligible in any Categories.” CEO Harvey Mason Jr. elaborated: “Here's the super easy, headline statement: AI, or music that contains AI-created elements is absolutely eligible for entry and for consideration for Grammy nomination. Period. What's not going to happen is we are not going to give a Grammy or Grammy nomination to the AI portion.”

This creates a category distinction: AI-assisted human creativity can receive institutional recognition, but pure AI generation cannot. The Grammy position attempts to preserve human authorship as a prerequisite for the highest forms of cultural validation.

But this distinction may prove difficult to maintain. If AI tools become sufficiently sophisticated, determining where “meaningful human contribution” begins and ends may become arbitrary. And if AI creations achieve commercial success that rivals or exceeds Grammy-winning human artists, the cultural authority of the Grammy distinction may erode.

For human artists, success often encompasses dimensions that neither algorithms nor financial metrics capture: creative fulfilment, authentic emotional expression, the sense of communicating something true about human experience, and recognition from peers and critics who understand the craft involved.

When Kehlani criticised the Xania Monet deal in a social media post, she articulated this perspective: “There is an AI R&B artist who just signed a multimillion-dollar deal... and the person is doing none of the work.” The objection is not merely economic but existential. Success that bypasses creative labour does not register as success in the traditional artistic sense.

SZA connected her critique to broader concerns, noting that AI technology causes “harm” to marginalised neighbourhoods through the energy demands of data centres. She asked fans not to create AI images or songs using her likeness.

Muni Long questioned why AI artists appeared to be gaining acceptance in R&B specifically, suggesting a genre-specific vulnerability: “It wouldn't be allowed to happen in country or pop.” This observation points to power dynamics within the industry, where some artistic communities may be more exposed to AI disruption than others.

What the Charts Reveal About Themselves

If AI systems can achieve commercial validation through existing distribution and ranking systems without the cultural legitimacy or institutional endorsement traditionally required of human artists, what does this reveal about those gatekeeping institutions?

The first revelation is that commercial gatekeeping has largely decoupled from quality assessment. Billboard charts measure commercial performance. They count downloads, streams, and airplay. They do not and cannot assess whether the music being counted represents artistic achievement.

For most of chart history, this limitation mattered less because commercial success and artistic recognition, whilst never perfectly aligned, operated in the same general neighbourhood. The processes that led to commercial success included human gatekeepers making evaluative judgements about which artists to invest in, which songs to programme, and which acts to promote. AI success bypasses these evaluative filters entirely.

The second revelation concerns the vulnerability of metrics-based systems to manipulation. Billboard's digital sales charts have been targets for manipulation for years. The Country Digital Song Sales chart that Breaking Rust topped requires only approximately 2,500 downloads to claim the number one position.

This is a vestige of an era when iTunes ruled the music industry, before streaming subscription models made downloads a relic. In 2024, downloads accounted for just $329 million according to the RIAA, approximately 2 per cent of US recorded music revenue.

Critics have argued that the situation represents “a Milli Vanilli-level fraud being perpetrated on music consumers, facilitated by Billboard's permissive approach to their charts.” The Saving Country Music publication declared that “Billboard must address AI on the charts NOW,” suggesting the chart organisation is avoiding “gatekeeping” accusations by remaining content with AI encroaching on its rankings without directly addressing the issue.

If the industry's most prestigious measurement system can be topped by AI-generated content with minimal organic engagement, the system's legitimacy as a measure of popular success comes into question.

The third revelation is that cultural legitimacy and commercial success have become separable in ways they previously were not. Throughout the twentieth century, chart success generally brought cultural legitimacy. Artists who topped charts received media attention, critical engagement, and the presumption that their success reflected some form of popular validation.

AI chart success does not translate into cultural legitimacy in the same way. No one regards Breaking Rust as a significant country artist regardless of its chart position. The chart placement functions as a technical achievement rather than a cultural coronation.

This separability creates an unstable situation. If commercial metrics can be achieved without cultural legitimacy, and cultural legitimacy cannot be achieved through commercial metrics alone, then the unified system that connected commercial success to cultural status has fractured. Different stakeholders now operate in different legitimacy frameworks that may be incompatible.

Royalty Dilution and the Economics of Content Flooding

Beyond questions of legitimacy, AI-generated music creates concrete economic pressures on human artists through royalty pool dilution. Streaming platforms operate on pro-rata payment models: subscription revenue enters a shared pool divided according to total streams. When more content enters the system, the per-stream value for all creators decreases.

Deezer has been the most transparent about the scale of this phenomenon. The platform reported receiving approximately 10,000 fully AI-generated tracks daily in January 2025. By April, this had risen to 20,000. By September, 28 per cent of all content delivered to Deezer was fully AI-generated. By November, the figure had reached 34 per cent, representing over 50,000 AI-generated tracks uploaded daily.

These tracks represent not merely competition for listener attention but direct extraction from the royalty pool. Deezer has found that up to 70 per cent of streams generated by fully AI-generated tracks are fraudulent.

The company's Beatdapp co-CEO Morgan Hayduk noted: “Every point of market share is worth a couple hundred million US dollars today. So we're talking about a billion dollars minimum, that's a billion dollars being taken out of a finite pool of royalties.”

The connection between AI music generation and streaming fraud became explicit in September 2024, when a North Carolina musician named Michael Smith was indicted by federal prosecutors over allegations that he used an AI music company to help create “hundreds of thousands” of songs, then used those AI tracks to steal more than $10 million in fraudulent streaming royalty payments since 2017. Manhattan federal prosecutors charged Smith with three counts of wire fraud, wire fraud conspiracy, and money laundering conspiracy, making it the first federal case targeting streaming fraud.

Universal Music Group addressed this threat pre-emptively, placing provisions in agreements with digital service providers that prevent AI-generated content from being counted in the same royalty pools as human artists. UMG chief Lucian Grainge criticised the “exponential growth of AI slop” on streaming services. But artists not represented by major labels may lack similar protections.

A study conducted by CISAC (the International Confederation of Societies of Authors and Composers, representing over 5 million creators worldwide) and PMP Strategy projected that nearly 24 per cent of music creators' revenues are at risk by 2028, representing cumulative losses of 10 billion euros over five years and annual losses of 4 billion euros by 2028 specifically. The study further predicted that generative AI music would account for approximately 20 per cent of music streaming platforms' revenues and 60 per cent of music library revenues by 2028. Notably, CISAC reported that not a single AI developer has signed a licensing agreement with any of the 225 collective management organisations that are members of CISAC worldwide, despite societies approaching hundreds of AI companies with requests to negotiate licences. The model that has sustained recorded music revenues for the streaming era may be fundamentally threatened if AI content continues its current growth trajectory.

Human Artists as Raw Material

The relationship between AI music systems and human artists extends beyond competition. The AI platforms achieving chart success were trained on human creativity. Suno CEO Mikey Shulman acknowledged that the company trains on copyrighted music, stating: “We train our models on medium- and high-quality music we can find on the open internet. Much of the open internet indeed contains copyrighted materials.”

Major record labels responded with landmark lawsuits in June 2024 against Suno and Udio, the two leading AI music generation platforms, seeking damages of up to $150,000 per infringed recording. The legal battle represents one of the most significant intellectual property disputes of the streaming era, with outcomes that could fundamentally reshape how AI companies source training data and how human creators are compensated when their work is used to train commercial AI systems.

This creates a paradox: AI systems that threaten human artists' livelihoods were made possible by consuming those artists' creative output without compensation. The US Copyright Office's May 2025 report provided significant guidance on this matter, finding that training and deploying generative AI systems using copyright-protected material involves multiple acts that could establish prima facie infringement. The report specifically noted that “the use of more creative or expressive works (such as novels, movies, art, or music) is less likely to be fair use than use of factual or functional works” and warned that “making commercial use of vast troves of copyrighted works to produce expressive content that competes with them in existing markets... goes beyond established fair use boundaries.” Yet legal resolution remains distant, and in the interim, AI platforms continue generating content that competes with the human artists whose work trained them.

When Victoria Monet confronted the existence of Xania Monet, an AI persona whose name, appearance, and vocal style bore resemblance to her own, she described an experiment: a friend typed the prompt “Victoria Monet making tacos” into an AI image generator, and the system produced visuals that looked uncannily similar to Xania Monet's promotional imagery.

Whether this reflects direct training on Victoria Monet's work or emergent patterns from broader R&B training data, the practical effect remains the same. An artist's distinctive identity becomes raw material for generating commercial competitors. The boundaries between inspiration, derivation, and extraction blur when machine learning systems can absorb and recombine stylistic elements at industrial scale.

Possible Reckonings and Plausible Futures

The situation the music industry faces is not one problem but many interconnected problems that compound each other. Commercial metrics have been detached from quality assessment. Gatekeeping institutions have lost their filtering function. Listener perception has become unreliable as a quality signal. Royalty economics are being undermined by content flooding. Training data extraction has turned human creativity against its creators. And different stakeholder groups operate according to incompatible success frameworks.

Could widespread AI chart performance actually force a reckoning with how the music industry measures and defines value itself? There are reasons for cautious optimism.

Deezer has positioned itself as the first streaming service to automatically label 100 per cent AI-generated tracks, removing them from algorithmic recommendations and editorial playlists. This represents an attempt to preserve human music's privileged position in the discovery ecosystem. If other platforms adopt similar approaches, AI content might be effectively segregated into a separate category that does not compete directly with human artists.

The EU's AI Act, which entered into force on 1 August 2024, mandates unprecedented transparency about training data. Article 53 requires providers of general-purpose AI models to publish sufficiently detailed summaries of their training data, including content protected by copyright, according to a template published by the European Commission's AI Office in July 2025. Compliance became applicable from 2 August 2025, with the AI Office empowered to verify compliance and issue corrective measures from August 2026, with potential fines reaching 15 million euros or 3 per cent of global annual revenue. The GPAI Code of Practice operationalises these requirements by mandating that providers maintain copyright policies, rely only on lawful data sources, respect machine-readable rights reservations, and implement safeguards against infringing outputs. This transparency requirement could make it harder for AI music platforms to operate without addressing rights holder concerns.

Human premium pricing may emerge as a market response. The survey finding that 96 per cent of music industry insiders would consider paying a premium for human-verified music services suggests latent demand for authenticated human creativity. If platforms can credibly certify human authorship, a tiered market could develop where human music commands higher licensing fees.

Institutional reform remains possible. Billboard could establish separate charts for AI-generated music, preserving the significance of its traditional rankings whilst acknowledging the new category of content. The Recording Academy's human authorship requirement for Grammy eligibility demonstrates that cultural institutions can draw principled distinctions. These distinctions may become more robust if validated by legal and regulatory frameworks.

But there are also reasons for pessimism. Market forces favour efficiency, and AI music production is dramatically more efficient than human creation. If listeners genuinely cannot distinguish AI from human music in typical consumption contexts, there may be insufficient consumer pressure to preserve human-created content.

The 0.5 per cent of streams that AI music currently represents on Deezer, despite comprising 34 per cent of uploads, suggests the content is not yet finding significant audiences. But this could change as AI capabilities improve.

The fragmentation of success definitions may prove permanent. If streaming platforms, financial investors, cultural institutions, and human artists cannot agree on what success means, each group may simply operate according to its own framework, acknowledging the others' legitimacy selectively or not at all.

A track could simultaneously be a chart success, a financial investment, an ineligible Grammy submission, and an object of contempt from human artists. The unified status hierarchy that once organised the music industry could dissolve into parallel status systems that rarely intersect.

What Commercial Metrics Cannot Capture

Perhaps what the AI chart success reveals most clearly is that commercial metrics have always been inadequate measures of what music means. They were useful proxies when the systems generating commercially successful music also contained human judgement, human creativity, and human emotional expression. When those systems can be bypassed by algorithmic optimisation, the metrics are exposed as measuring only engagement behaviours, not the qualities those behaviours were supposed to indicate.

The traditional understanding of musical success included dimensions that are difficult to quantify: the sense that an artist had something to say and found a compelling way to say it, the recognition that creative skill and emotional honesty had produced something of value, the feeling of connection between artist and audience based on shared human experience.

These dimensions were always in tension with commercial metrics, but they were present in the evaluative frameworks that shaped which music received investment and promotion.

AI-generated music can trigger engagement behaviours. It can accumulate streams, achieve chart positions, and generate revenue. What it cannot do is mean something in the way human creative expression means something. It cannot represent the authentic voice of an artist working through lived experience. It cannot reward careful listening with the sense of encountering another human consciousness.

Whether listeners actually care about these distinctions is an empirical question that the market will answer. The preliminary evidence is mixed. The 97 per cent of listeners who cannot identify AI-generated music in blind tests suggest that, in passive consumption contexts, meaning may not be the operative criterion.

But the 80 per cent who agree that AI-generated music should be clearly labelled suggest discomfort with being fooled. And the premium that industry professionals say they would pay for human-verified music suggests that at least some market segments value authenticity.

The reckoning, if it comes, will force the industry to articulate what it believes music is for. If music is primarily engagement content designed to fill attention and generate revenue, then AI-generated music is simply more efficient production of that content. If music is a form of human communication that derives meaning from its human origins, then AI-generated music is a category error masquerading as the real thing.

These are not technical questions that data can resolve. They are value questions that different stakeholders will answer differently.

What seems certain is that the status quo cannot hold. The same metrics that crown hits cannot simultaneously serve as quality filters when algorithmic output can game those metrics. The same gatekeeping institutions cannot simultaneously validate commercial success and preserve human authorship requirements when commercial success becomes achievable without human authorship. The same royalty pools cannot sustain human artists if flooded with AI content competing for the same finite attention and revenue.

The chart success of AI-generated music is not the end of human music. It is the beginning of a sorting process that will determine what human music is worth in a world where its commercial position can no longer be assumed. That process will reshape not just the music industry but our understanding of what distinguishes human creativity from its algorithmic simulation.

The answer we arrive at will say as much about what we value as listeners and as a culture as it does about the capabilities of the machines.


References and Sources

  1. Billboard. “How Many AI Artists Have Debuted on Billboard's Charts?” https://www.billboard.com/lists/ai-artists-on-billboard-charts/

  2. Billboard. “AI Artist Xania Monet Debuts on Adult R&B Airplay – a Radio Chart Breakthrough.” https://www.billboard.com/music/chart-beat/ai-artist-xania-monet-debut-adult-rb-airplay-chart-1236102665/

  3. Billboard. “AI Music Artist Xania Monet Signs Multimillion-Dollar Record Deal.” https://www.billboard.com/pro/ai-music-artist-xania-monet-multimillion-dollar-record-deal/

  4. Billboard. “The 10 Biggest AI Music Stories of 2025: Suno & Udio Settlements, AI on the Charts & More.” https://www.billboard.com/lists/biggest-ai-music-stories-2025-suno-udio-charts-more/

  5. Billboard. “AI Music Artists Are on the Charts, But They Aren't That Popular – Yet.” https://www.billboard.com/pro/ai-music-artists-charts-popular/

  6. Billboard. “Kehlani Slams AI Artist Xania Monet Over $3 Million Record Deal Offer.” https://www.billboard.com/music/music-news/kehlani-slams-ai-artist-xania-monet-million-record-deal-1236071158/

  7. Bensound. “Human vs AI Music: Data, Emotion & Authenticity in 2025.” https://www.bensound.com/blog/human-generated-music-vs-ai-generated-music/

  8. CBS News. “People can't tell AI-generated music from real thing anymore, survey shows.” https://www.cbsnews.com/news/ai-generated-music-real-thing-cant-tell/

  9. CBS News. “New Grammy rule addresses artificial intelligence.” https://www.cbsnews.com/news/grammy-rule-artificial-intelligence-only-human-creators-eligible-awards/

  10. CISAC. “Global economic study shows human creators' future at risk from generative AI.” https://www.cisac.org/Newsroom/news-releases/global-economic-study-shows-human-creators-future-risk-generative-ai

  11. Deezer Newsroom. “Deezer and Ipsos study: AI fools 97% of listeners.” https://newsroom-deezer.com/2025/11/deezer-ipsos-survey-ai-music/

  12. Deezer Newsroom. “Deezer: 28% of all delivered music is now fully AI-generated.” https://newsroom-deezer.com/2025/09/28-fully-ai-generated-music/

  13. GOV.UK. “The impact of algorithmically driven recommendation systems on music consumption and production.” https://www.gov.uk/government/publications/research-into-the-impact-of-streaming-services-algorithms-on-music-consumption/

  14. Hollywood Reporter. “Hallwood Media Signs Record Deal With an 'AI Music Designer.'” https://www.hollywoodreporter.com/music/music-industry-news/hallwood-inks-record-deal-ai-music-designer-imoliver-1236328964/

  15. IFPI. “Global Music Report 2025.” https://globalmusicreport.ifpi.org/

  16. Medium (Anoxia Lau). “The Human Premium: What 100 Music Insiders Reveal About the Real Value of Art in the AI Era.” https://anoxia2.medium.com/the-human-premium-what-100-music-insiders-reveal-about-the-real-value-of-art-in-the-ai-era-c4e12a498c4a

  17. MIT Media Lab. “Exploring listeners' perceptions of AI-generated and human-composed music.” https://www.media.mit.edu/publications/exploring-listeners-perceptions-of-ai-generated-and-human-composed-music-for-functional-emotional-applications/

  18. Music Ally. “UMG boss slams 'exponential growth of AI slop' on streaming services.” https://musically.com/2026/01/09/umg-boss-slams-exponential-growth-of-ai-slop-on-streaming-services/

  19. Music Business Worldwide. “50,000 AI tracks flood Deezer daily.” https://www.musicbusinessworldwide.com/50000-ai-tracks-flood-deezer-daily-as-study-shows-97-of-listeners-cant-tell-the-difference-between-human-made-vs-fully-ai-generated-music/

  20. Rap-Up. “Baby Tate & Muni Long Push Back Against AI Artist Xania Monet.” https://www.rap-up.com/article/baby-tate-muni-long-xania-monet-ai-artist-backlash

  21. SAGE Journals (Bonini & Gandini). “First Week Is Editorial, Second Week Is Algorithmic: Platform Gatekeepers and the Platformization of Music Curation.” https://journals.sagepub.com/doi/full/10.1177/2056305119880006

  22. Saving Country Music. “Billboard Must Address AI on the Charts NOW.” https://savingcountrymusic.com/billboard-must-address-ai-on-the-charts-now/

  23. Spotify Engineering. “Humans + Machines: A Look Behind the Playlists Powered by Spotify's Algotorial Technology.” https://engineering.atspotify.com/2023/04/humans-machines-a-look-behind-spotifys-algotorial-playlists

  24. TIME. “No, AI Artist Breaking Rust's 'Walk My Walk' Is Not a No. 1 Hit.” https://time.com/7333738/ai-country-song-breaking-rust-walk-my/

  25. US Copyright Office. “Copyright and Artificial Intelligence Part 3: Generative AI Training.” https://www.copyright.gov/ai/

  26. WIPO Magazine. “How AI-generated songs are fueling the rise of streaming farms.” https://www.wipo.int/en/web/wipo-magazine/articles/how-ai-generated-songs-are-fueling-the-rise-of-streaming-farms-74310

  27. Yahoo Entertainment. “Kehlani, SZA Slam AI Artist Xania Monet's Multimillion-Dollar Record Deal.” https://www.yahoo.com/entertainment/music/articles/kehlani-sza-slam-ai-artist-203344886.html


Tim Green

Tim Green UK-based Systems Theorist & Independent Technology Writer

Tim explores the intersections of artificial intelligence, decentralised cognition, and posthuman ethics. His work, published at smarterarticles.co.uk, challenges dominant narratives of technological progress while proposing interdisciplinary frameworks for collective intelligence and digital stewardship.

His writing has been featured on Ground News and shared by independent researchers across both academic and technological communities.

ORCID: 0009-0002-0156-9795 Email: tim@smarterarticles.co.uk

Discuss...

The stablecoin transaction that moved $2 billion from Abu Dhabi to Binance in May 2025 looked nothing like what the cypherpunks imagined when they dreamed of digital money. There were no anonymous wallets, no cryptographic rituals, no ideological manifestos. MGX, a sovereign wealth vehicle backed by the United Arab Emirates, simply wired funds denominated in USD1, a stablecoin issued by World Liberty Financial, a company affiliated with the family of the sitting United States President. The transaction settled on blockchain rails that neither party needed to understand or even acknowledge. The technology had become invisible. The revolution had been absorbed.

This moment crystallises the central tension now confronting the cryptocurrency industry as it enters what many are calling its institutional era. Stablecoins processed over $46 trillion in transactions during 2025, rivalling Visa and PayPal in volume. BlackRock's Bitcoin ETF surpassed $100 billion in assets under management, accumulating over 800,000 BTC in less than two years. The GENIUS Act became the first major cryptocurrency legislation passed by Congress, establishing federal standards for stablecoin issuers. Tokenised real-world assets reached $33 billion, with projections suggesting the market could hit $16 trillion by 2030. By every conventional measure, cryptocurrency has succeeded beyond its founders' wildest projections.

Yet success has arrived through a mechanism that would have horrified many of those founders. Crypto went mainstream by becoming invisible, as the a16z State of Crypto 2025 report observed. The technology that was supposed to disintermediate banks now powers their backend operations. The protocol designed to resist surveillance now integrates with anti-money laundering systems. The culture that celebrated pseudonymity now onboards users through email addresses and social logins. The question is whether this represents maturation or betrayal, evolution or erasure.

The Infrastructure Thesis Ascendant

The economic evidence for the invisibility approach has become overwhelming. Stripe's $1.1 billion acquisition of Bridge in February 2025 represented the payments industry's first major acknowledgement that stablecoins could serve as mainstream infrastructure rather than speculative instruments. Within three months, Stripe launched Stablecoin Financial Accounts across 101 countries, enabling businesses to hold balances in USDC and USDB while transacting seamlessly across fiat and crypto rails. The blockchain was there, handling settlement. The users never needed to know.

This pattern has repeated across traditional finance. Visa partnered with Bridge to launch card-issuing products that let cardholders spend their stablecoin balances at any merchant accepting Visa, with automatic conversion to fiat happening invisibly in the background. Klarna announced plans to issue its own stablecoin through Bridge, aiming to reduce cross-border payment costs that currently total roughly $120 billion annually. The fintech giant would become the first bank to tap Stripe's stablecoin stack for blockchain-powered payments, without requiring its customers to understand or interact with blockchain technology directly.

BlackRock has been equally explicit about treating cryptocurrency as infrastructure rather than product. Larry Fink, the firm's chief executive, declared following the Bitcoin ETF approval that “every stock and bond would eventually live on a shared digital ledger.” The company's BUIDL fund, launched on Ethereum in March 2024, has grown to manage over $2 billion in tokenised treasury assets. BlackRock has announced plans to tokenise up to $10 trillion in assets, expanding across multiple blockchain networks including Arbitrum and Polygon. For institutional investors accessing these products, the blockchain is simply plumbing, no more visible or culturally significant than the TCP/IP protocols underlying their email.

The speed of this integration has astonished even bullish observers. Bitcoin and Ethereum spot ETFs accumulated $31 billion in net inflows while processing approximately $880 billion in trading volume during 2025. An estimated 716 million people now own digital assets globally, a 16 percent increase from the previous year. More than one percent of all US dollars now exist as stablecoins on public blockchains. The numbers describe a technology that has crossed from interesting experiment to systemic relevance.

The regulatory environment has reinforced this trajectory. The GENIUS Act, signed into law in July 2025, establishes stablecoin issuers as regulated financial entities subject to the Bank Secrecy Act, with mandatory anti-money laundering programmes, sanctions compliance, and customer identification requirements. Payment stablecoins issued under the framework are explicitly not securities or commodities, freeing them from SEC and CFTC oversight while embedding them within the traditional banking regulatory apparatus. The Act requires permitted issuers to maintain one-to-one reserves in US currency or similarly liquid assets and to publish monthly disclosure of reserve details. This is not the regulatory vacuum that early cryptocurrency advocates hoped would allow decentralised alternatives to flourish. It is integration, absorption, normalisation.

The Cultural Counter-Argument

Against this backdrop of institutional triumph, a parallel ecosystem continues to thrive on explicitly crypto-native principles. Pump.fun, the Solana memecoin launchpad, has facilitated the creation of over 13 million tokens since January 2024, generating more than $866 million in lifetime revenue by October 2025. At its peak, the platform accounted for nearly 90 percent of all token mints on Solana and over 80 percent of launchpad trading volume. Its July 2025 ICO raised $1.3 billion in combined private and public sales, with the $PUMP presale hauling in $500 million in minutes at a fully diluted valuation of approximately $4 billion.

This is not infrastructure seeking invisibility. This is spectacle, culture, community, identity. The meme coin total market capitalisation exceeded $78 billion in 2025, with projects like Fartcoin briefly reaching $2.5 billion in valuation. These assets have no intrinsic utility beyond their function as coordination mechanisms for communities united by shared jokes, aesthetics, and speculative conviction. They are pure culture, and their continued prominence suggests that crypto's cultural layer retains genuine economic significance even as institutional rails proliferate.

The mechanics of attention monetisation have evolved dramatically. In January 2025, a single social media post about the $TRUMP token, launched through a one-click interface on Solana, generated hundreds of millions in trading volume within hours. This represented something genuinely new: the near-instantaneous conversion of social attention into financial activity. The friction that once separated awareness from action has been reduced to a single tap.

Re7 Capital, a venture firm that has invested in Suno and other infrastructure projects, launched a $10 million SocialFi fund in 2025 specifically targeting this intersection of social platforms and blockchain participation. As Luc de Leyritz, the firm's general partner, explained: “For the first time in five years, we see a structural opportunity in early-stage crypto venture, driven by the convergence of attention, composability and capital flows in SocialFi.” The thesis is that platforms enabling rapid conversion of social attention into financial activity represent the next major adoption vector, one that preserves rather than erases crypto's cultural distinctiveness.

Farcaster exemplifies this approach. The decentralised social protocol, backed by $150 million from Paradigm and a16z, has grown to over 546,000 registered users with approximately 40,000 to 60,000 daily active users. Its defining innovation, Farcaster Frames, enables users to mint NFTs, execute trades, and claim tokens directly within social posts without leaving the application. This is not crypto becoming invisible; this is crypto becoming the medium of social interaction itself. The blockchain is not hidden infrastructure but visible identity, with on-chain activities serving as signals of community membership and cultural affiliation.

The tension between these approaches has become central to debates about crypto's future direction. Vitalik Buterin, Ethereum's co-founder, addressed this directly in a New Year's message urging the community to focus on building applications that are “truly decentralised and usable” rather than “winning the next meta.” He outlined practical tests for decentralisation: Can users keep their assets if the company behind an application disappears? How much damage can rogue insiders or compromised front-ends cause? How many lines of code must be trusted to protect users' funds?

These questions expose the gap between infrastructure and culture approaches. Invisible blockchain rails, by definition, rely on intermediaries that users must trust. When Stripe converts stablecoin balances to fiat for Visa transactions, when BlackRock custodies Bitcoin on behalf of ETF holders, when Klarna issues blockchain-powered payments, the technology may be decentralised but the user experience is not. The cypherpunk vision of individuals controlling their own keys, verifying their own transactions, and resisting surveillance has been traded for convenience and scale.

The Cypherpunk Inheritance

To understand what is at stake requires revisiting cryptocurrency's ideological origins. Bitcoin was not born in a vacuum; it emerged from decades of cypherpunk research, debate, and experimentation. The movement's core creed was simple: do not ask permission, build the system. Do not lobby politicians for privacy laws; create technologies that make surveillance impossible. Every point of centralisation was understood as a point of weakness, a chokepoint where power could be exercised by states or corporations against individuals.

Satoshi Nakamoto's 2008 whitepaper directly reflected these principles. By combining cryptography, decentralised consensus, and economic incentives, Bitcoin solved the double-spending problem without requiring a central authority. The vision was censorship-resistant money that allowed individuals to transact privately and securely without permission from governments or corporations. Self-custody was not merely an option but the point. The option to be your own bank, to verify rather than trust, remained open to anyone willing to exercise it.

The cypherpunks were deeply suspicious of any centralised authority, whether government agency or large bank. They saw the fight for freedom in the digital age as a technical problem, not merely a political one. Privacy, decentralisation, self-sovereignty, transparency through open-source code: these were not just preferences but foundational principles. Any compromise on these fronts represented potential capture by the very systems they sought to escape.

The success and commercialisation of Bitcoin has fractured this inheritance. Some argue that compliance with Know Your Customer requirements, integration with regulated exchanges, and accommodation of institutional custody represents necessary compromise to bring cryptocurrency to the masses and achieve mainstream legitimacy. Without these accommodations, Bitcoin would remain a niche asset forever locked out of the global financial system.

For the purist camp, this represents betrayal. Building on-ramps that require identity verification creates a surveillance network around technology designed to be pseudonymous. It links real-world identity to on-chain transactions, destroying privacy. The crypto space itself struggles with centralisation through major exchanges, custodial wallets, and regulatory requirements that conflict with the original vision.

By 2025, Bitcoin's price exceeded $120,000, driven substantially by institutional adoption through ETFs and a maturing investor base. BlackRock's IBIT has accumulated holdings representing 3.8 percent of Bitcoin's total 21 million supply. This is not the distributed ownership pattern the cypherpunks envisioned. Power has concentrated in new hands, different from but not obviously preferable to the financial institutions cryptocurrency was designed to circumvent.

Decentralised Social and the Identity Layer

If invisible infrastructure represents one future and pure speculation another, decentralised social platforms represent an attempt at synthesis. Lens Protocol, launched by the team behind the DeFi lending platform Aave, provides a social graph enabling developers to build applications with composable, user-owned content. Running on Polygon, Lens offers creators direct monetisation through subscriptions, fees from followers, and the ability to turn posts into tradable NFTs. Top users on the protocol average $1,300 monthly in creator earnings, demonstrating that blockchain participation can generate real economic value beyond speculation.

The proposition is that social identity becomes inseparable from on-chain identity. Your follower graph, your content, your reputation travel with you across applications built on the same underlying protocol. When you switch from one Lens-based application to another, you bring your audience and history. No platform can deplatform you because no platform owns your identity. This is decentralisation as lived experience rather than backend abstraction.

Farcaster offers a complementary model focused on protocol-level innovation. Three smart contracts on OP Mainnet handle security-critical functions: IdRegistry maps Farcaster IDs to Ethereum custody addresses, StorageRegistry tracks storage allocations, and KeyRegistry manages application permissions. The infrastructure is explicitly on-chain, but the user experience has been refined to approach consumer-grade accessibility. Account abstraction and social logins mean new users can start with just an email address, reducing time to first transaction from twenty minutes to under sixty seconds.

The platform's technical architecture reflects deliberate choices about where blockchain visibility matters. Storage costs approximately seven dollars per year for 5,000 posts plus reactions and follows, low enough to be accessible but high enough to discourage spam. The identity layer remains explicitly on-chain, ensuring that users maintain control over their credentials even as the application layer becomes increasingly polished.

The engagement metrics suggest these approaches resonate with users who value explicit blockchain participation. Farcaster's engagement rate of 29 interactions per user monthly compares favourably to Lens's 12, indicating higher-quality community even with smaller absolute numbers. The platform recently achieved a milestone of 100,000 funded wallets, driven partly by USDC deposit matching rewards that incentivise users to connect their financial identity to their social presence.

Yet the scale gap with mainstream platforms remains vast. Bluesky's 38 million users dwarf Farcaster's half million. Twitter's daily active users number in the hundreds of millions. For crypto-native social platforms to represent a meaningful alternative rather than a niche experiment, they must grow by orders of magnitude while preserving the properties that differentiate them. The question is whether those properties are features or bugs in the context of mainstream adoption.

The Stablecoin Standardisation

Stablecoins offer the clearest lens on how the invisibility thesis is playing out in practice. The market has concentrated heavily around two issuers: Tether's USDT holds approximately 60 percent market share with a capitalisation exceeding $183 billion, while Circle's USDC holds roughly 25 percent at $73 billion. Together, these two tokens account for over 80 percent of total stablecoin market capitalisation, though that share has declined slightly as competition intensifies.

Tether dominates trading volume, accounting for over 75 percent of stablecoin activity on centralised exchanges. It remains the primary trading pair in emerging markets and maintains higher velocity on exchanges. But USDC has grown faster in 2025, with its market cap climbing 72 percent compared to USDT's 32 percent growth. Analysts attribute this to USDC's better positioning for regulated markets, particularly after USDT faced delistings in Europe due to lack of MiCA authorisation.

Circle's billion-dollar IPO marked the arrival of stablecoin issuers as mainstream financial institutions. The company's aggressive expansion into regulated markets positions USDC as the stablecoin of choice for banks, payment processors, and fintech platforms seeking compliance clarity. This is crypto becoming infrastructure in the most literal sense: a layer enabling transactions that end users never need to understand or acknowledge.

The overall stablecoin supply hit $314 billion in 2025, with the category now comprising 30 percent of all on-chain crypto transaction volume. August 2025 recorded the highest annual volume to date, reaching over $4 trillion for the year, an 83 percent increase on the same period in 2024. Tether alone saw $10 billion in profit in the first three quarters of the year. These are not metrics of a speculative sideshow but of core financial infrastructure.

The emergence of USD1, the stablecoin issued by World Liberty Financial with Trump family involvement, demonstrates how completely stablecoins have departed from crypto's countercultural origins. The token reached $3 billion in circulating supply within six months of launch, integrated with major exchanges including Binance and Tron. Its largest transaction to date, the $2 billion MGX investment in Binance, involved sovereign wealth funds, presidential family businesses, and what senators have alleged are suspicious ties to sanctioned entities. This is not disruption of financial power structures; it is their reconfiguration under blockchain labels.

The GENIUS Act's passage has accelerated this normalisation. By establishing clear regulatory frameworks, the legislation removes uncertainty that previously discouraged traditional financial institutions from engaging with stablecoins. But it also embeds stablecoins within the surveillance and compliance infrastructure that cryptocurrency was originally designed to escape. Issuers must implement anti-money laundering programmes, verify sanctions lists, and identify customers. The anonymous, permissionless transactions that defined early Bitcoin are not merely discouraged but legally prohibited for regulated stablecoin issuers.

The Tokenisation Transformation

Real-world asset tokenisation extends the invisibility thesis from currency into securities. BlackRock's BUIDL fund demonstrated that tokenised treasury assets could attract institutional capital at scale. By year-end 2025, the tokenised RWA market had grown to approximately $33 billion, with the majority concentrated in private credit and US Treasuries representing nearly 90 percent of tokenised value. The market has grown fivefold in two years, crossing from interesting experiment to systemic relevance.

The projections are staggering. A BCG-Ripple report forecasts the tokenised asset market growing from $0.6 trillion to $18.9 trillion by 2033. Animoca Brands research suggests tokenisation could eventually tap into the $400 trillion traditional finance market. Franklin Templeton, Fidelity, and other major asset managers have moved beyond pilots into production-level tokenisation of treasury products.

For institutional investors, the value proposition is efficiency: faster settlement, lower costs, continuous trading availability, fractional ownership. None of these benefits require understanding or caring about blockchain technology. The distributed ledger is simply superior infrastructure for recording ownership and executing transfers. It replaces databases, not ideologies.

This creates an interesting inversion of the original cryptocurrency value proposition. Bitcoin promised to separate money from state control. Tokenisation of real-world assets brings state-sanctioned securities onto blockchain rails, with all their existing regulatory requirements, reporting obligations, and institutional oversight intact. The technology serves traditional finance rather than replacing it.

Major financial institutions including JPMorgan, Goldman Sachs, and BNY Mellon are actively engaging in real-world asset tokenisation. Banks treat blockchain not as novelty but as infrastructure, part of the normal toolkit for financial services. Fintech companies supply connective logic between traditional systems and decentralised networks. Stablecoins, once regarded as a temporary bridge, now operate as permanent fixtures of the financial order.

The Dual Economy

What emerges from this analysis is not a single trajectory but a bifurcation. Two distinct crypto economies now operate in parallel, occasionally intersecting but fundamentally different in their relationship to culture, identity, and visibility.

The institutional economy treats blockchain as infrastructure. Its participants include BlackRock, Fidelity, Stripe, Visa, JPMorgan, and the growing ecosystem of regulated stablecoin issuers and tokenisation platforms. Value accrues through efficiency gains, cost reductions, and access to previously illiquid assets. Users of these products may never know they are interacting with blockchain technology. The culture is that of traditional finance: compliance-focused, institution-mediated, invisible.

The crypto-native economy treats blockchain as culture. Its participants include memecoin traders, decentralised social network users, DeFi power users, and communities organised around specific protocols and tokens. Value accrues through attention, community formation, and speculative conviction. Users of these products explicitly identify with blockchain participation, often displaying on-chain activity as markers of identity and affiliation. The culture is distinctively countercultural: permissionless, community-driven, visible.

DeFi total value locked surged 41 percent in Q3 2025, surpassing $160 billion for the first time since May 2022. Ethereum led growth with TVL jumping from $54 billion in July to $96.5 billion by September. Aave became the largest DeFi lending protocol with over $41 billion in TVL, growing nearly 58 percent since July. Lido ranked second with nearly $39 billion in liquid staking deposits. These are substantial numbers, demonstrating that crypto-native applications retain significant capital commitment even as institutional alternatives proliferate.

The question is whether these economies can coexist indefinitely or whether one will eventually absorb the other. The institutional thesis holds that crypto-native culture is a transitional phenomenon, the early-adopter enthusiasm that accompanies any new technology before it matures into invisible utility. By this view, memecoin speculation and decentralised social experiments are the equivalent of early internet flame wars and personal homepage culture: interesting historical artefacts that give way to professionally operated services as the technology scales.

The counter-thesis holds that crypto-native culture provides irreplaceable competitive advantages. Community formation around tokens creates user loyalty that traditional products cannot match. On-chain identity enables new forms of coordination, reputation, and governance. The transparency of blockchain operations enables trustlessness that opaque corporate structures cannot replicate. By this view, invisible infrastructure misses the point entirely, stripping away the properties that make cryptocurrency distinctive and valuable.

Evaluating Maturation

The debate ultimately hinges on what one considers maturation. If maturation means achieving mainstream adoption, measurable in transaction volumes, market capitalisation, and institutional participation, then the invisibility approach has clearly succeeded. Stablecoins rival Visa in volume. Bitcoin ETFs hold hundreds of billions in assets. Regulated tokenisation platforms are processing institutional-scale transactions. By these metrics, cryptocurrency has grown up.

But maturation can also mean the development of distinctive capabilities rather than assimilation into existing paradigms. By this measure, invisibility represents not maturation but abandonment. The technology that was supposed to disrupt financial intermediation has instead been adopted by intermediaries. The protocol designed to resist censorship integrates with surveillance systems. The culture celebrating individual sovereignty has been absorbed into institutional custody arrangements.

Vitalik Buterin's tests for decentralisation offer a framework for evaluating these competing claims. The walk-away test asks whether users keep their assets if the company behind an application disappears. For BlackRock ETF holders, the answer is clearly no; they hold shares in a fund that custodies assets on their behalf. For self-custody Bitcoin holders, the answer is yes by design. The insider attack test asks how much damage rogue insiders or compromised front-ends can cause. Invisible infrastructure necessarily involves more trusted intermediaries and therefore more potential attack surfaces.

The trusted computing base question asks how many lines of code must be trusted to protect users. Institutional products layer complexity upon complexity: custody arrangements, trading interfaces, fund structures, regulatory compliance systems. Each layer requires trust. The original Bitcoin thesis was that you needed to trust only the protocol itself, verifiable through open-source code and distributed consensus.

Yet crypto-native applications are not immune from these concerns. DeFi protocols have suffered billions in losses through exploits, rug pulls, and governance attacks. Memecoin platforms like Pump.fun face class-action lawsuits alleging manipulation. Decentralised social networks struggle with spam, harassment, and content moderation challenges that their permissionless architecture makes difficult to address. The choice is not between trustless perfection and trusted compromise but between different configurations of trust, risk, and capability.

The Cultural Residue

Perhaps the most honest assessment is that crypto culture will persist as aesthetic residue even as the technology becomes invisible infrastructure. Early-adopter communities will continue to celebrate on-chain participation as identity markers, much as vintage computing enthusiasts celebrate command-line interfaces in an era of graphical operating systems. The technical capability for self-custody and trustless verification will remain available to those who value it, even as the overwhelming majority of users interact through intermediated products that abstract away complexity.

This is not necessarily a tragedy. Other technologies have followed similar trajectories. The internet began as a countercultural space where early adopters celebrated decentralisation and resisted commercialisation. Today, most users access the internet through devices and services controlled by a handful of corporations, but the underlying protocols remain open and the option for direct participation persists for those motivated to exercise it.

The question is whether this residual option matters. If only a tiny fraction of users ever exercise self-custody or participate in decentralised governance, does the theoretical availability of these options provide meaningful protection against centralised control? Or does the concentration of practical usage in institutional channels create the same capture risks that cryptocurrency was designed to prevent?

The $2 billion stablecoin transaction from MGX to Binance suggests an answer that satisfies neither purists nor institutionalists. The technology worked exactly as designed: value transferred across borders instantly and irrevocably, settled on a distributed ledger that neither party needed to understand. But the participants were sovereign wealth funds and exchange conglomerates, the transaction enabled by presidential family connections, and the regulatory framework that of traditional anti-money laundering compliance. This is not what the cypherpunks imagined, but it is what cryptocurrency has become.

Whether that represents maturation or abandonment depends entirely on what one hoped cryptocurrency would achieve. If the goal was efficient global payments infrastructure, the invisible approach has delivered. If the goal was liberation from institutional financial control, the invisible approach has failed precisely by succeeding. The technology escaped the sandbox of speculation and entered the real world, but the real world captured it in return.

The builders who will succeed in this environment are likely those who understand both economies and can navigate between them. Stripe's acquisition of Bridge demonstrates that institutional players recognise the value of crypto infrastructure even when stripped of cultural signifiers. Pump.fun's billion-dollar raise demonstrates that crypto-native culture retains genuine economic value even when disconnected from institutional approval. The most durable projects may be those that maintain optionality: invisible enough to achieve mainstream adoption, crypto-native enough to retain community loyalty, flexible enough to serve users with radically different relationships to the underlying technology.

The original vision has not been abandoned so much as refracted. It persists in self-custody options that most users ignore, in decentralised protocols that institutions build upon, in cultural communities that thrive in parallel with institutional rails. Cryptocurrency did not mature into a single thing. It matured into multiple things simultaneously, serving different purposes for different participants, with different relationships to the values that animated its creation.

Whether the cultural layer remains competitive advantage or becomes mere nostalgia will be determined not by technology but by the choices users make about what they value. If convenience consistently trumps sovereignty, the invisible approach will dominate and crypto culture will become historical curiosity. If enough users continue to prioritise decentralisation, self-custody, and explicit blockchain participation, the cultural layer will persist as more than aesthetic. The technology enables both futures. The question is which one we will choose.


References and Sources

  1. a16z crypto. “State of Crypto 2025: The year crypto went mainstream.” October 2025. https://a16zcrypto.com/posts/article/state-of-crypto-report-2025/

  2. Re7 Capital. “The Future of Crypto is Social.” https://re7.capital/blog/the-future-of-crypto-is-social/

  3. The Block. “Re7 Capital bets on SocialFi with a $10 million fund targeting around 30 startups.” 2025. https://www.theblock.co/post/352562/re7-capital-socialfi-fund-crypto

  4. CNBC. “Stripe closes $1.1 billion Bridge deal, prepares for aggressive stablecoin push.” February 2025. https://www.cnbc.com/2025/02/04/stripe-closes-1point1-billion-bridge-deal-prepares-for-stablecoin-push-.html

  5. Stripe Newsroom. “Introducing Stablecoin Financial Accounts in 101 countries.” 2025. https://stripe.com/blog/introducing-stablecoin-financial-accounts

  6. The White House. “Fact Sheet: President Donald J. Trump Signs GENIUS Act into Law.” July 2025. https://www.whitehouse.gov/fact-sheets/2025/07/fact-sheet-president-donald-j-trump-signs-genius-act-into-law/

  7. Morgan Lewis. “GENIUS Act Passes in US Congress: A Breakdown of the Landmark Stablecoin Law.” July 2025. https://www.morganlewis.com/pubs/2025/07/genius-act-passes-in-us-congress-a-breakdown-of-the-landmark-stablecoin-law

  8. Business Wire. “World Liberty Financial's Stablecoin $USD1 Crosses $3 Billion in Market Capitalization.” December 2025. https://www.businesswire.com/news/home/20251225249806/en/World-Liberty-Financials-Stablecoin-USD1-Crosses-3-Billion-in-Market-Capitalization

  9. CNBC. “Trump's World Liberty Financial jumps into stablecoin game with USD1 reveal.” March 2025. https://www.cnbc.com/2025/03/25/trumps-world-liberty-financial-jumps-into-stablecoin-game-with-usd1-reveal.html

  10. The Block. “BlackRock's bitcoin ETF surpasses 800,000 BTC in assets under management after $4 billion inflow streak.” 2025. https://www.theblock.co/post/373966/blackrock-bitcoin-etf-ibit-800000-btc-aum

  11. CoinDesk. “RWA Tokenization Is Going to Trillions Much Faster Than You Think.” February 2025. https://www.coindesk.com/opinion/2025/02/07/rwa-tokenization-is-going-to-trillions-much-faster-than-you-think

  12. The Block. “Pump.fun surpasses $800 million in lifetime revenue as Solana memecoin launchpad competition heats up.” 2025. https://www.theblock.co/post/367585/pump-fun-surpasses-800-million-in-lifetime-revenue-as-solana-memecoin-launchpad-competition-heats-up

  13. CoinDesk. “Vitalik Buterin: Ethereum at Risk If Decentralization Is Just a Catchphrase.” July 2025. https://www.coindesk.com/tech/2025/07/02/vitalik-buterin-ethereum-at-risk-if-decentralization-is-just-a-catchphrase

  14. CryptoSlate. “10 stories that rewired digital finance in 2025 – the year crypto became infrastructure.” 2025. https://cryptoslate.com/10-stories-that-rewired-digital-finance-in-2025-the-year-crypto-became-infrastructure/

  15. BlockEden. “Farcaster in 2025: The Protocol Paradox.” October 2025. https://blockeden.xyz/blog/2025/10/28/farcaster-in-2025-the-protocol-paradox/

  16. Crystal Intelligence. “USDT vs USDC Q3 2025: Market Share & Dominance Analysis.” 2025. https://crystalintelligence.com/thought-leadership/usdt-maintains-dominance-while-usdc-faces-headwinds/

  17. CoinDesk. “Tether and Circle's Dominance Is Being Put to the Test.” October 2025. https://www.coindesk.com/opinion/2025/10/11/tether-and-circle-s-dominance-is-being-put-to-the-test

  18. The Defiant. “DeFi TVL Surges 41% in Q3 to Three-Year High.” 2025. https://thedefiant.io/news/defi/defi-tvl-surges-41-in-q3-to-three-year-high

  19. PYMNTS. “Making Sense of Meme Coins, Digital Assets and Crypto's Future.” 2025. https://www.pymnts.com/cryptocurrency/2025/making-sense-meme-coins-digital-assets-crypto-future/

  20. D-Central. “Bitcoin and the Cypherpunks – A Journey Towards Decentralisation and Privacy.” https://d-central.tech/bitcoin-and-the-cypherpunks/

  21. World Economic Forum. “How will the GENIUS Act work in the US and impact the world?” July 2025. https://www.weforum.org/stories/2025/07/stablecoin-regulation-genius-act/

  22. Andreessen Horowitz. “What Stripe's Acquisition of Bridge Means for Fintech and Stablecoins.” April 2025. https://a16z.com/newsletter/what-stripes-acquisition-of-bridge-means-for-fintech-and-stablecoins-april-2025-fintech-newsletter/


Tim Green

Tim Green UK-based Systems Theorist & Independent Technology Writer

Tim explores the intersections of artificial intelligence, decentralised cognition, and posthuman ethics. His work, published at smarterarticles.co.uk, challenges dominant narratives of technological progress while proposing interdisciplinary frameworks for collective intelligence and digital stewardship.

His writing has been featured on Ground News and shared by independent researchers across both academic and technological communities.

ORCID: 0009-0002-0156-9795 Email: tim@smarterarticles.co.uk

Discuss...

Enter your email to subscribe to updates.