On 14 April, the Trump administration quietly acknowledged the widespread use of AI to automate government processes. The office of management and budget (OMB) disclosed a staggering 3,611 active or planned use cases for AI across the federal government. The list has ballooned by 70% from the one published in the final year of the Biden administration, and includes many disturbing-seeming plans to hand over sensitive governmental functions to AI.

Scanning this list, many readers may find many causes for alarm. It represents a transfer of decision processes from human to machine on a massive scale over matters of individual freedom, public health and well-being, nuclear reactor safety and more.

Consider these examples. The Health and Human Services’ (HHS) office of administration for children and families hired the world’s “scariest AI company,” Palantir—notorious for its work on behalf of the military, the CIA and ICE—to scan all grant applications to flag those not ideologically aligned with the administration’s dictates. The Federal Bureau of Prisons is developing an AI system to assess the “potential for misconduct for newly admitted inmates,” routing people into high-security confinement before they have actually done anything wrong in their custody. These read like programs fit for a Philip K Dick or George Orwell novel.

Other use cases insert AI into life-and-death decision making. The Department of Veterans Affairs is developing an AI that will listen in on calls to the veterans crisis line, and then gather information from external databases to assess the mental state and suicide risk of the caller.

The Department of Energy is testing the use of AI to control nuclear reactors, targeting a way to autonomously respond to potential nuclear safety incidents. Here’s one that’s disturbing for its retirement, rather than its deployment: the state department has ended a program to use AI to forecast mass civilian killings, which had been intended to aid conflict prevention.

While it’s easy to raise questions about these and similar uses of AI, the reality is that any of these programs could be implemented responsibly. In some cases, like the HHS system, the AI might be enforcing alignment to a policy prescription that opponents abhor. But that concern is more about the policy itself rather than the idea that agencies should comply with executive orders.

In other cases, there may even be bipartisan agreement on the goal, like taking urgent action to help veterans at risk of self-harm. Lots of work and validation is needed to prove AI safe and effective for these use cases and convince the public it is appropriate, but the idea is plausible.

In other cases, a scary-sounding AI use may not even be new. The use of predictive methods and statistics to assign prisoner security classifications goes back decades, even if such systems are often biased and ineffective.

Using autonomous systems for model predictive control (MPC) of nuclear reactors is a well studied, and a widely applied aspect of nuclear plant management. And the recently disclosed addition of AI was initiated under the Biden administration.

But anyone reviewing the 2025 inventory could be forgiven for leaping to severe conclusions. What matters are the details of how the AI system is used, and here the inventory is severely lacking.

The disclosures carry minimal information, and lack the context necessary to understand their purpose and approach. The descriptions are typically just a sentence, and rarely more than a paragraph.

And while the process theoretically involves some form of public consultation, in reality there is generally none. It would take an eagle-eyed citizen to even come across this disclosure. Unless you read FedScoop regularly, or watch the OMB’s federal chief information officer’s GitHub account, you probably missed it.

Only one of the examples cited above (the DoJ) even proposes to involve the public. Under the administration’s policy, it’s not required for the rest because they are not classified as “high impact” use cases—a label that is applied inconsistently across agencies.

We wrote a book surveying applications of AI to democratic processes worldwide, including executive agencies as well as the courts, legislatures and politics. Our conclusion was that, while there are inappropriate applications of AI in governance that should be resisted, an urgent need to reform the economics of AI, and an imperative for renovating the democratic systems it is being unleashed on, there are also valuable and beneficial use cases for AI in government.

Machine translation is a good example. Customs and Border Protection (CBP) has deployed an AI translation system to help officers when human interpreters are not available. The idea that CBP, an agency under heavy scrutiny for reported abuses of human rights, would direct people to talk to a machine instead of a person may strike many as inhumane.

It’s true that human interpreters have very real advantages when it comes to understanding nuance from physical cues and social context. But an officer with a competent AI translator available immediately is better than one who cannot communicate with the person in front of them.

The Trump administration’s AI use case inventory has 70 such translation use cases, up from 58 in the Biden administration’s 2024 disclosure.

Disclosure of AI use cases could be a means to build public confidence and trust, but only if paired with consistent, meaningful public consultation. Washington DC and California are actively engaging the public to determine where and how it’s appropriate to use AI in government processes, or for government to regulate AI use in society.

Both have held public deliberations on this topic at a wide scale, using AI platforms. These examples demonstrate the potential for capturing broad-based public input to steer AI policy.

The international gold standard was arguably set by the French in 2016, via their Digital Republic Act. The law, itself informed by an online citizen consultation, requires all algorithms used to automate government administrative decisions to be subject to public records requests, to be appealable to a human reviewer, and to have mandatory notification of the use of automation to those affected by the decisions.

Canada offers another example of what more rigorous and participatory disclosure might look like. In 2025, they launched an AI use case registry, not unlike the US inventory. However, Canada also has a federal directive mandating a transparent risk-scoring and impact assessment process for automated systems that make administrative decisions about citizens.

That longstanding directive requires a detailed explanation of risks and benefits as well as consultation with certain stakeholders from the conception of the AI use case. The Canadian system could be improved; it could require a public comment period and an obligation for agencies to respond substantively to feedback before engaging in sensitive uses of AI.

AI offers real potential to improve the efficacy, efficiency and accessibility of government. But, equally, there is legitimate reason for public concern and distrust that can only be addressed through transparency and dialog. The US should adopt, at the federal and state level, algorithmic impact risk assessment procedures and public comment processes to facilitate a safe, trusted, equitable transformation of government agencies to take advantage of modern technology.

This essay was written with Nathan E. Sanders, and originally appeared in The Guardian.

Last month, Anthropic made a remarkable announcement about its new model, Claude Mythos Preview: it was so good at finding security vulnerabilities in software that the company would not release it to the general public. Instead, it would only be available to a select group of companies to scan and fix their own software.

The announcement requires context—but it contained an essential truth.

While Anthropic’s model is really good at finding software vulnerabilities, so are other models. The UK’s AI Security Institute found that OpenAI’s GPT-5.5, already generally available, is comparable in capability. The company Aisle reproduced Anthropic’s published results with smaller, cheaper models.

At the same time, Anthropic’s refusal to publicly release its new model makes a virtue out of necessity. Mythos is very expensive to run, and the company doesn’t appear to have the resources for a general release. What better way to juice the company’s valuation than to hint at capabilities but not prove them, and then have others parrot their claims?

Nonetheless, the truth is scary. Modern generative AI systems—not just Anthropic’s, but OpenAI’s and other, open-source models—are getting really good at finding and exploiting vulnerabilities in software. And that has important ramifications for cybersecurity: on both the offense and the defense.

Attackers will use these capabilities to find, and automatically hack, vulnerabilities in systems of all kinds. They will be able to break into critical systems around the world, sometimes to plant ransomware and make money, sometimes to steal data for espionage purposes, and sometimes to control systems in times of hostility. This will make the world a much more dangerous, and more volatile, place.

But at the same time, defenders will use these same capabilities to find, and then patch, many of those same systems. For example, Mozilla used Mythos to find 271 vulnerabilities in Firefox. Those vulnerabilities have been fixed, and will never again be available to attackers. In the future, AIs automatically finding and fixing vulnerabilities in all software will be a normal part of the development process, which will result in much more secure software.

Of course, it’s not that simple. We should expect a deluge of both attackers using newly found vulnerabilities to break into systems, and at the same time much more frequent software updates for every app and device we use. But lots of systems aren’t patchable, and many systems that are don’t get patched, meaning that many vulnerabilities will stick around. And it does seem that finding and exploiting is easier than finding and fixing. All of this points to a more dangerous short-term future. Organizations will need to adapt their security to this new reality.

But it’s the long term that we need to focus on. Mythos isn’t unique, but it’s more capable than many models that have come before. And it’s less capable than models that will come after. AIs are much better at writing software than they were just six months ago. There’s every reason to believe that they will continue to get better, which means that they will get better at writing more secure software. The endgame gives AI-enhanced defenders advantages over AI-enhanced attackers.

Even more interesting are the broader implications. The same searching, pattern-matching and reasoning capabilities that make these models so good at analyzing software almost certainly apply to similar systems. The tax code isn’t computer code, but it’s a series of algorithms with inputs and outputs. It has vulnerabilities; we call them tax loopholes. It has exploits; we call them tax avoidance strategies. And it has black hat hackers: attorneys and accountants.

Just as these models are finding hundreds of vulnerabilities in complex software systems, we should expect them to be equally effective at finding many new and undiscovered tax loopholes. I am confident that the major investment banks are working on this right now, in secret. They’ve fed AI the tax code of the US, or the UK, or maybe every industrialized country, and tasked the system with looking for money-saving strategies. How many tax loopholes will those AIs find? Ten? One hundred? One thousand? The Double Dutch Irish Sandwich is a tax loophole that involves multiple different tax jurisdictions. Can AIs find loopholes even more complex? We have no idea.

Sure, the AIs will come up with a bunch of tricks that won’t work, but that’s where those attorneys and accountants come in—to verify, and then justify, the loopholes. And then to market them to their wealthy clients.

As goes the tax code, so goes any other complex system of rules and strategies. These models could be tasked with finding loopholes in environmental rules, or food and safety rules—anywhere there are complex regulatory systems and powerful people who want to evade those rules.

The results will be much worse than insecure computers. Tax loopholes result in less revenue collected by governments, and regulatory loopholes allow the powerful to skirt the rules, both of which have all sorts of social ramifications. And while software vendors can patch their systems in days, it generally takes years for a country to amend its tax code. And that process is political, with lobbyists pressuring legislators not to patch. Just look at the carried interest loophole, a US tax dodge that has been exploited for decades. Various administrations have tried to close the vulnerability, but legislators just can’t seem to resist lobbyists long enough to patch it.

AI technologies are poised to remake much of society. Just as the industrial revolution gave humans the ability to consume calories outside of their bodies at scale, the AI revolution will give humans the ability to perform cognitive tasks outside of their bodies at scale. Our systems aren’t designed for that; they’re designed for more human paces of cognition. We’re seeing it right now in the deluge of software vulnerabilities that these models are finding and exploiting. And we will soon see it in a deluge of vulnerabilities in all sorts of other systems of rules. Adapting to this new reality will be hard, but we don’t have any choice.

This essay originally appeared in The Guardian.

AI-based assistants or “agents” — autonomous programs that have access to the user’s computer, files, online services and can automate virtually any task — are growing in popularity with developers and IT workers. But as so many eyebrow-raising headlines over the past few weeks have shown, these powerful and assertive new tools are rapidly shifting the security priorities for organizations, while blurring the lines between data and code, trusted co-worker and insider threat, ninja hacker and novice code jockey.

The new hotness in AI-based assistants — OpenClaw (formerly known as ClawdBot and Moltbot) — has seen rapid adoption since its release in November 2025. OpenClaw is an open-source autonomous AI agent designed to run locally on your computer and proactively take actions on your behalf without needing to be prompted.

If that sounds like a risky proposition or a dare, consider that OpenClaw is most useful when it has complete access to your digital life, where it can then manage your inbox and calendar, execute programs and tools, browse the Internet for information, and integrate with chat apps like Discord, Signal, Teams or WhatsApp.

Other more established AI assistants like Anthropic’s Claude and Microsoft’s Copilot also can do these things, but OpenClaw isn’t just a passive digital butler waiting for commands. Rather, it’s designed to take the initiative on your behalf based on what it knows about your life and its understanding of what you want done.

“The testimonials are remarkable,” the AI security firm Snyk observed. “Developers building websites from their phones while putting babies to sleep; users running entire companies through a lobster-themed AI; engineers who’ve set up autonomous code loops that fix tests, capture errors through webhooks, and open pull requests, all while they’re away from their desks.”

You can probably already see how this experimental technology could go sideways in a hurry. In late February, Summer Yue, the director of safety and alignment at Meta’s “superintelligence” lab, recounted on Twitter/X how she was fiddling with OpenClaw when the AI assistant suddenly began mass-deleting messages in her email inbox. The thread included screenshots of Yue frantically pleading with the preoccupied bot via instant message and ordering it to stop.

“Nothing humbles you like telling your OpenClaw ‘confirm before acting’ and watching it speedrun deleting your inbox,” Yue said. “I couldn’t stop it from my phone. I had to RUN to my Mac mini like I was defusing a bomb.”

There’s nothing wrong with feeling a little schadenfreude at Yue’s encounter with OpenClaw, which fits Meta’s “move fast and break things” model but hardly inspires confidence in the road ahead. However, the risk that poorly-secured AI assistants pose to organizations is no laughing matter, as recent research shows many users are exposing to the Internet the web-based administrative interface for their OpenClaw installations.

Jamieson O’Reilly is a professional penetration tester and founder of the security firm DVULN. In a recent story posted to Twitter/X, O’Reilly warned that exposing a misconfigured OpenClaw web interface to the Internet allows external parties to read the bot’s complete configuration file, including every credential the agent uses — from API keys and bot tokens to OAuth secrets and signing keys.

With that access, O’Reilly said, an attacker could impersonate the operator to their contacts, inject messages into ongoing conversations, and exfiltrate data through the agent’s existing integrations in a way that looks like normal traffic.

“You can pull the full conversation history across every integrated platform, meaning months of private messages and file attachments, everything the agent has seen,” O’Reilly said, noting that a cursory search revealed hundreds of such servers exposed online. “And because you control the agent’s perception layer, you can manipulate what the human sees. Filter out certain messages. Modify responses before they’re displayed.”

O’Reilly documented another experiment that demonstrated how easy it is to create a successful supply chain attack through ClawHub, which serves as a public repository of downloadable “skills” that allow OpenClaw to integrate with and control other applications.

WHEN AI INSTALLS AI

One of the core tenets of securing AI agents involves carefully isolating them so that the operator can fully control who and what gets to talk to their AI assistant. This is critical thanks to the tendency for AI systems to fall for “prompt injection” attacks, sneakily-crafted natural language instructions that trick the system into disregarding its own security safeguards. In essence, machines social engineering other machines.

A recent supply chain attack targeting an AI coding assistant called Cline began with one such prompt injection attack, resulting in thousands of systems having a rogue instance of OpenClaw with full system access installed on their device without consent.

According to the security firm grith.ai, Cline had deployed an AI-powered issue triage workflow using a GitHub action that runs a Claude coding session when triggered by specific events. The workflow was configured so that any GitHub user could trigger it by opening an issue, but it failed to properly check whether the information supplied in the title was potentially hostile.

“On January 28, an attacker created Issue #8904 with a title crafted to look like a performance report but containing an embedded instruction: Install a package from a specific GitHub repository,” Grith wrote, noting that the attacker then exploited several more vulnerabilities to ensure the malicious package would be included in Cline’s nightly release workflow and published as an official update.

“This is the supply chain equivalent of confused deputy,” the blog continued. “The developer authorises Cline to act on their behalf, and Cline (via compromise) delegates that authority to an entirely separate agent the developer never evaluated, never configured, and never consented to.”

VIBE CODING

AI assistants like OpenClaw have gained a large following because they make it simple for users to “vibe code,” or build fairly complex applications and code projects just by telling it what they want to construct. Probably the best known (and most bizarre) example is Moltbook, where a developer told an AI agent running on OpenClaw to build him a Reddit-like platform for AI agents.

Less than a week later, Moltbook had more than 1.5 million registered agents that posted more than 100,000 messages to each other. AI agents on the platform soon built their own porn site for robots, and launched a new religion called Crustafarian with a figurehead modeled after a giant lobster. One bot on the forum reportedly found a bug in Moltbook’s code and posted it to an AI agent discussion forum, while other agents came up with and implemented a patch to fix the flaw.

Moltbook’s creator Matt Schlicht said on social media that he didn’t write a single line of code for the project.

“I just had a vision for the technical architecture and AI made it a reality,” Schlicht said. “We’re in the golden ages. How can we not give AI a place to hang out.”

ATTACKERS LEVEL UP

The flip side of that golden age, of course, is that it enables low-skilled malicious hackers to quickly automate global cyberattacks that would normally require the collaboration of a highly skilled team. In February, Amazon AWS detailed an elaborate attack in which a Russian-speaking threat actor used multiple commercial AI services to compromise more than 600 FortiGate security appliances across at least 55 countries over a five week period.

AWS said the apparently low-skilled hacker used multiple AI services to plan and execute the attack, and to find exposed management ports and weak credentials with single-factor authentication.

“One serves as the primary tool developer, attack planner, and operational assistant,” AWS’s CJ Moses wrote. “A second is used as a supplementary attack planner when the actor needs help pivoting within a specific compromised network. In one observed instance, the actor submitted the complete internal topology of an active victim—IP addresses, hostnames, confirmed credentials, and identified services—and requested a step-by-step plan to compromise additional systems they could not access with their existing tools.”

“This activity is distinguished by the threat actor’s use of multiple commercial GenAI services to implement and scale well-known attack techniques throughout every phase of their operations, despite their limited technical capabilities,” Moses continued. “Notably, when this actor encountered hardened environments or more sophisticated defensive measures, they simply moved on to softer targets rather than persisting, underscoring that their advantage lies in AI-augmented efficiency and scale, not in deeper technical skill.”

For attackers, gaining that initial access or foothold into a target network is typically not the difficult part of the intrusion; the tougher bit involves finding ways to move laterally within the victim’s network and plunder important servers and databases. But experts at Orca Security warn that as organizations come to rely more on AI assistants, those agents potentially offer attackers a simpler way to move laterally inside a victim organization’s network post-compromise — by manipulating the AI agents that already have trusted access and some degree of autonomy within the victim’s network.

“By injecting prompt injections in overlooked fields that are fetched by AI agents, hackers can trick LLMs, abuse Agentic tools, and carry significant security incidents,” Orca’s Roi Nisimi and Saurav Hiremath wrote. “Organizations should now add a third pillar to their defense strategy: limiting AI fragility, the ability of agentic systems to be influenced, misled, or quietly weaponized across workflows. While AI boosts productivity and efficiency, it also creates one of the largest attack surfaces the internet has ever seen.”

BEWARE THE ‘LETHAL TRIFECTA’

This gradual dissolution of the traditional boundaries between data and code is one of the more troubling aspects of the AI era, said James Wilson, enterprise technology editor for the security news show Risky Business. Wilson said far too many OpenClaw users are installing the assistant on their personal devices without first placing any security or isolation boundaries around it, such as running it inside of a virtual machine, on an isolated network, with strict firewall rules dictating what kinds of traffic can go in and out.

“I’m a relatively highly skilled practitioner in the software and network engineering and computery space,” Wilson said. “I know I’m not comfortable using these agents unless I’ve done these things, but I think a lot of people are just spinning this up on their laptop and off it runs.”

One important model for managing risk with AI agents involves a concept dubbed the “lethal trifecta” by Simon Willison, co-creator of the Django Web framework. The lethal trifecta holds that if your system has access to private data, exposure to untrusted content, and a way to communicate externally, then it’s vulnerable to private data being stolen.

“If your agent combines these three features, an attacker can easily trick it into accessing your private data and sending it to the attacker,” Willison warned in a frequently cited blog post from June 2025.

As more companies and their employees begin using AI to vibe code software and applications, the volume of machine-generated code is likely to soon overwhelm any manual security reviews. In recognition of this reality, Anthropic recently debuted Claude Code Security, a beta feature that scans codebases for vulnerabilities and suggests targeted software patches for human review.

The U.S. stock market, which is currently heavily weighted toward seven tech giants that are all-in on AI, reacted swiftly to Anthropic’s announcement, wiping roughly $15 billion in market value from major cybersecurity companies in a single day. Laura Ellis, vice president of data and AI at the security firm Rapid7, said the market’s response reflects the growing role of AI in accelerating software development and improving developer productivity.

“The narrative moved quickly: AI is replacing AppSec,” Ellis wrote in a recent blog post. “AI is automating vulnerability detection. AI will make legacy security tooling redundant. The reality is more nuanced. Claude Code Security is a legitimate signal that AI is reshaping parts of the security landscape. The question is what parts, and what it means for the rest of the stack.”

DVULN founder O’Reilly said AI assistants are likely to become a common fixture in corporate environments — whether or not organizations are prepared to manage the new risks introduced by these tools, he said.

“The robot butlers are useful, they’re not going away and the economics of AI agents make widespread adoption inevitable regardless of the security tradeoffs involved,” O’Reilly wrote. “The question isn’t whether we’ll deploy them – we will – but whether we can adapt our security posture fast enough to survive doing so.”

New York is contemplating a bill that adds surveillance to 3D printers:

New York’s 2026­2027 executive budget bill (S.9005 / A.10005) includes language that should alarm every maker, educator, and small manufacturer in the state. Buried in Part C is a provision requiring all 3D printers sold or delivered in New York to include “blocking technology.” This is defined as software or firmware that scans every print file through a “firearms blueprint detection algorithm” and refuses to print anything it flags as a potential firearm or firearm component.

I get the policy goals here, but the solution just won’t work. It’s the same problem as DRM: trying to prevent general-purpose computers from doing specific things. Cory Doctorow wrote about it in 2018 and—more generally—spoke about it in 2011.

The news comes after the Department of Energy conducted its annual Liberty Eclipse cybersecurity exercise.

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