The entry barriers for app development have plummeted in recent times — with nearly anyone now able to build a professional website, personal news bot, or dashboard simply by giving a chatbot or AI agent a few instructions in natural English. Unfortunately, a massive gap exists between a slick prototype and a reliable, production-ready, secure application. To avoid becoming the subject of another AI fail story, or losing money and sensitive data, follow these straightforward tips. These are intended specifically for non-technical creators and very small teams. Larger enterprises should follow more sophisticated recommendations.

The primary risks of AI-generated code

While vibe coding can deliver a seemingly functional app in just a few hours, it will likely contain dangerous flaws. AI models are trained on code samples from across the internet, which often include suboptimal tutorials, buggy snippets, and outright junk. Sometimes this code simply fails to run, but more often the situation is subtler and more hazardous: the app appears to work, yet under the hood, it might rely on a crude imitation of the required logic or contain critical vulnerabilities. According to a study by the Cloud Security Alliance AI Safety Initiative, the following facts should be considered when using AI for coding:

• At least 45% of AI-generated code contains dangerous vulnerabilities, such as failing to verify the user before granting access to sensitive data.
• A professional developer using AI can write code three to four times faster, but may introduce 10 times as many vulnerabilities.
• Twenty percent of AI-generated code attempts to use external libraries and modules that don’t actually exist.
• Even when an application handles confidential data — such as payments, private messages, or documents — AI-generated code sometimes skips credential verification entirely. This can leave the app’s data open for anyone on the internet to read.
• In other instances, the app might correctly prompt for a username and password but fail to enforce access controls, allowing any registered user to view everyone else’s data.
• Access keys (tokens) for databases and AI services may be embedded directly into the source code, easy to steal, and difficult to rotate after a data breach or cyberattack.
• Project code or critical build outputs are often deployed to servers without proper access restrictions, leaving both the application logic and sensitive access keys vulnerable to theft.
• AI may implement insecure database access patterns, which can allow attackers to bypass the application to steal data or execute arbitrary code on the database server.
• Apps that include API functionality often suffer from insecure API implementations, lacking both user permission checks and rate limiting.

Core principles of securing vibe code

Always verify. Treat AI-generated code as a rough draft. It should always be reviewed and rigorously tested. Ideally, professional developers should handle this; however, if none are available, the vibe-coder should at least test the application themselves, have friends or colleagues poke around the live app, and ask them to review key code snippets. It’s also possible to evaluate code integrity by submitting a separate prompt to the AI: “Review this code for secure development best practices and check for OWASP Top 10 vulnerabilities”.

Protect secrets. Never include passwords, API keys, or any other sensitive data in AI prompts. Instead, instruct the AI to write code that securely stores all secrets in environment variables (special hidden settings).

Prioritize efforts. The main risks emerge when an application is network-accessible to outsiders, processes valuable data, or runs on infrastructure that would be useful to attackers. The components of an app or system that meet these criteria are precisely what’s needed to be protected first. A static website composed of three HTML pages faces significantly lower risk than a loyalty program integrated into an online store.

Make security an explicit requirement. Even a simple, straightforward line in the prompt, like “Follow industry standards and security best practices when generating this code”, improves the output. Providing more specific requirements for critical code snippets makes the results even better.

Don’t trust default settings. Often, the danger in vibe coding lies in the configuration rather than the code itself. For example, an app processing sensitive company data might be deployed on a public vibe-coding platform (Lovable or the like), and remain accessible to the entire internet by default. Even if the code is flawless, making that information public is a critical security failure. Because of this, every component — from hosting and database settings to the deployment pipeline — must be manually reviewed and properly configured. If the purpose of a setting is unclear, consult a chatbot for the optimal values, specifying that its goal is to enhance security, and describing who the app is intended for.

Security is a continuous process. Securing the app should not be treated as a one-off task. Every time an application is updated, hosting providers are changed, or a project undergoes any other major shift, all steps in making it secure should be revisited, and the risks reassessed.

Tips for securing vibe code

It’s natural to want an app built from broad prompts like “Make me a beautiful, user-friendly, fast, reliable, and secure app for [use case].” However, for the results to actually be effective, each of those requirements needs to be fleshed out. Below, we’ve outlined recommendations for building standard components that will make vibe code more secure. It’s important to emphasize that “more secure” doesn’t mean “perfectly secure” — these approaches lower the risk, but that risk remains well above zero.

Demand security from the AI. When assigning a task to a neural network, be explicit: “write secure code, validate data, encrypt passwords”. Each type of task requires its own security prompt. For instance, don’t just ask to “build a login form”. Instead, ask for a “secure login form with credential validation, authentication and authorization (user permissions) controls, brute-force protection, password hashing according to modern standards, transmission strictly over HTTPS, and no hardcoded secrets”. It makes sense to use these secure requirement templates every time. It’s also helpful to keep a short cheat sheet of standard requirements for AI prompts: “validate all external data and user input before processing”, “no secrets in code”, “protect APIs from abuse”, “restrict user permissions”, and “secure default settings”.

Use off-the-shelf solutions. If an app needs a user management system, insist on using a popular, reputable library, such as NextAuth, Auth0, and so on, rather than inventing a new and vulnerable solution. This is the most common cause of data breaches. This applies to more than just login and registration; for other high-risk actions like file uploads and API call processing, it’s better to use established frameworks and libraries with built-in protections rather than building everything from scratch.

Don’t trust the AI blindly; verify open-source components. Neural networks often try to inject non-existent components and libraries into a project or suggest outdated versions. Always search for the suggested names online to ensure they are real, widely used, and secure — and make sure the latest versions are used.

Demand robust encryption. Explicitly state that modern industry standards must be used for both data transmission and storage: TLS 1.3 based on OpenSSL for network traffic; argon2 or bcrypt for hashing credentials; and so on.

Never trust user input. Always instruct the AI to include validation for any data entered by users, whether in forms or search bars. Use terms like “parameterization” and “sanitization” to emphasize that the app needs protection against malicious actors, not just users’ typos.

Set limits on user actions. Require the AI to implement rate limiting for login attempts or general requests. This will protect a project from automated attacks like DoS and brute-force password guessing.

Hide the system’s inner workings. If the site crashes, users should see a simple apology page rather than a detailed error report containing snippets of the code. That kind of information is a goldmine for hackers.

Remember that you’re a developer, and you need to protect development-related digital assets. All related accounts — such as access to GitHub, project hosting, and other resources — are prime targets for attackers. Be sure to enable two-factor authentication (2FA) on all work accounts.

Make backups. Regularly back up a project both locally and to the cloud to protect it against critical AI errors as well as cyberattacks. These backups should include both the application’s source code and its databases.

Set up a sandbox. Test new features and app versions in a secure environment using a clone of an active site or app and a copy of a database. Always run thorough tests before pushing an update live. This allows catching issues without putting users or their data at risk.

Update dependencies and scan them for vulnerabilities. A vibe-coded app will almost certainly rely on third-party libraries and components, known as dependencies. It’s wise to update these regularly by rebuilding an app with the latest versions, even if app’s code itself has not been changed. This process helps patch known security flaws in the used packages.

Check for secrets leaking into the repository. Use secrets scanners like TruffleHog to audit resulting code. Even with instructions, AI might slip up and include an API key or password in the source code. A scanner ensures that files containing keys and passwords don’t end up in Git or get published alongside the project.

What are the next steps for security leaders in this new age of frontier AI? We answer the top 10 questions customers are asking.

The post Frontier AI and the Future of Defense: Your Top Questions Answered appeared first on Unit 42.

Last week, Anthropic pulled back the curtain on Claude Mythos Preview, an AI model so capable at finding and exploiting software vulnerabilities that the company decided it was too dangerous to release to the public. Instead, access has been restricted to roughly 50 organizations—Microsoft, Apple, Amazon Web Services, CrowdStrike and other vendors of critical infrastructure—under an initiative called Project Glasswing.

The announcement was accompanied by a barrage of hair-raising anecdotes: thousands of vulnerabilities uncovered across every major operating system and browser, including a 27-year-old bug in OpenBSD, a 16-year-old flaw in FFmpeg. Mythos was able to weaponize a set of vulnerabilities it found in the Firefox browser into 181 usable attacks; Anthropic’s previous flagship model could only achieve two.

This is, in many respects, exactly the kind of responsible disclosure that security researchers have long urged. And yet the public has been given remarkably little with which to evaluate Anthropic’s decision. We have been shown a highlight reel of spectacular successes. However, we can’t tell if we have a blockbuster until they let us see the whole movie.

For example, we don’t know how many times Mythos mistakenly flagged code as vulnerable. Anthropic said security contractors agreed with the AI’s severity rating 198 times, with an 89 per cent severity agreement. That’s impressive, but incomplete. Independent researchers examining similar models have found that AI that detects nearly every real bug also hallucinates plausible-sounding vulnerabilities in patched, correct code.

This matters. A model that autonomously finds and exploits hundreds of vulnerabilities with inhuman precision is a game changer, but a model that generates thousands of false alarms and non-working attacks still needs skilled and knowledgeable humans. Without knowing the rate of false alarms in Mythos’s unfiltered output, we cannot tell whether the examples showcased are representative.

There is a second, subtler problem. Large language models, including Mythos, perform best on inputs that resemble what they were trained on: widely used open-source projects, major browsers, the Linux kernel and popular web frameworks. Concentrating early access among the largest vendors of precisely this software is sensible; it lets them patch first, before adversaries catch up.

But the inverse is also true. Software outside the training distribution—industrial control systems, medical device firmware, bespoke financial infrastructure, regional banking software, older embedded systems—is exactly where out-of-the-box Mythos is likely least able to find or exploit bugs.

However, a sufficiently motivated attacker with domain expertise in one of these fields could nevertheless wield Mythos’s advanced reasoning capabilities as a force multiplier, probing systems that Anthropic’s own engineers lack the specialized knowledge to audit. The danger is not that Mythos fails in those domains; it is that Mythos may succeed for whoever brings the expertise.

Broader, structured access for academic researchers and domain specialists—cardiologists’ partners in medical device security, control-systems engineers, researchers in less prominent languages and ecosystems—would meaningfully reduce this asymmetry. Fifty companies, however well chosen, cannot substitute for the distributed expertise of the entire research community.

None of this is an indictment of Anthropic. By all appearances the company is trying to act responsibly, and its decision to hold the model back is evidence of seriousness.

But Anthropic is a private company and, in some ways, still a start-up. Yet it is making unilateral decisions about which pieces of our critical global infrastructure get defended first, and which must wait their turn.

It has finite staff, finite budget and finite expertise. It will miss things, and when the thing missed is in the software running a hospital or a power grid, the cost will be borne by people who never had a say.

The security problem is far greater than one company and one model. There’s no reason to believe that Mythos Preview is unique. (Not to be outdone, OpenAI announced that its new GPT-5.4-Cyber is so dangerous that the model also will not be released to the general public.) And it’s unclear how much of an advance these new models represent. The security company Aisle was able to replicate many of Anthropic’s published anecdotes using smaller, cheaper, public AI models.

Any decisions we make about whether and how to release these powerful models are more than one company’s responsibility. Ultimately, this will probably lead to regulation. That will be hard to get right and requires a long process of consultation and feedback.

In the short term, we need something simpler: greater transparency and information sharing with the broader community. This doesn’t necessarily mean making powerful models like Claude Mythos widely available. Rather, it means sharing as much data and information as possible, so that we can collectively make informed decisions.

We need globally co-ordinated frameworks for independent auditing, mandatory disclosure of aggregate performance metrics and funded access for academic and civil-society researchers.

This has implications for national security, personal safety and corporate competitiveness. Any technology that can find thousands of exploitable flaws in the systems we all depend on should not be governed solely by the internal judgment of its creators, however well intentioned.

Until that changes, each Mythos-class release will put the world at the edge of another precipice, without any visibility into whether there is a landing out of view just below, or whether this time the drop will be fatal. That is not a choice a for-profit corporation should be allowed to make in a democratic society. Nor should such a company be able to restrict the ability of society to make choices about its own security.

This essay was written with David Lie, and originally appeared in The Globe and Mail.

Interesting research: “Humans expect rationality and cooperation from LLM opponents in strategic games.”

Abstract: As Large Language Models (LLMs) integrate into our social and economic interactions, we need to deepen our understanding of how humans respond to LLMs opponents in strategic settings. We present the results of the first controlled monetarily-incentivised laboratory experiment looking at differences in human behaviour in a multi-player p-beauty contest against other humans and LLMs. We use a within-subject design in order to compare behaviour at the individual level. We show that, in this environment, human subjects choose significantly lower numbers when playing against LLMs than humans, which is mainly driven by the increased prevalence of ‘zero’ Nash-equilibrium choices. This shift is mainly driven by subjects with high strategic reasoning ability. Subjects who play the zero Nash-equilibrium choice motivate their strategy by appealing to perceived LLM’s reasoning ability and, unexpectedly, propensity towards cooperation. Our findings provide foundational insights into the multi-player human-LLM interaction in simultaneous choice games, uncover heterogeneities in both subjects’ behaviour and beliefs about LLM’s play when playing against them, and suggest important implications for mechanism design in mixed human-LLM systems.

Unit 42 research on multi-agent AI systems on Amazon Bedrock reveals new attack surfaces and prompt injection risks. Learn how to secure your AI applications.

The post When an Attacker Meets a Group of Agents: Navigating Amazon Bedrock's Multi-Agent Applications appeared first on Unit 42.

Unit 42 uncovers a "double agent" flaw in Google Cloud's Vertex AI, demonstrating how overprivileged AI agents can compromise cloud environments.

The post Double Agents: Exposing Security Blind Spots in GCP Vertex AI appeared first on Unit 42.

A significant proportion of cyberincidents are linked to supply chain attacks, and this proportion is constantly growing. Over the past year, we have seen a wide variety of methods used in such attacks, ranging from creation of malicious but seemingly legitimate open-source libraries or delayed attacks in such seemingly legitimate libraries, to the simplest yet most effective method: compromising the accounts of popular library owners to subsequently release malicious versions of their libraries. Such libraries are used by developers everywhere and are included in many solutions and services. The consequences of an attack can vary widely, ranging from delivering malware to a developer’s device to compromising an entire infrastructure if the malicious library has made its way into the code of a service or product.

This is exactly what happened in March 2026, when attackers injected malicious code into the popular Python library LiteLLM, which serves as a multifunctional gateway for a large set of AI agents. The attackers released two trojanized versions of LiteLLM that delivered malicious scripts to the victim’s system. Both versions made their way into the PyPI repository for Python. A technical analysis revealed that the attackers’ primary targets were servers storing confidential data related to AWS, Kubernetes, NPM, etc., as well as various databases (MySQL, PostgreSQL, MongoDB, etc.). In the latter case, the attackers were primarily interested in database configurations. In addition, the malware’s logic included functionality for stealing confidential data from crypto wallets and techniques for establishing a foothold in the Kubernetes cluster.

Repository compromise

The compromise affected the package distribution channel via PyPI: on March 24, 2026, malicious LiteLLM versions litellm==1.82.7 and litellm==1.82.8 were uploaded to the registry. It was specifically the package’s distribution contents that were compromised: in version 1.82.7, the malicious code was embedded in proxy_server.py, and in 1.82.8, the file litellm_init.pth was added.

Technical analysis

Both versions of the library contained the same malicious code, but its execution was implemented differently. In version 1.82.7, it was executed only when the proxy functionality was imported, while in 1.82.8, a .pth file was added that was able to execute the code every time the interpreter started.

The malicious code in the proxy_server.py and litellm_init.pth files contained Python code encoded in Base64. After execution, the infected script saved this code alongside itself as a p.py file and immediately executed it.

The p.py script launched the main payload – another script, also encoded in Base64 – without saving it to disk. At the same time, it wrote the output of this payload to a file in the directory from which it was launched. Before being written, the output was encrypted using the AES-256-CBC algorithm with a random key generated in the code, which was saved to the session.key file. The key file was also encrypted – using a pre-initialized public RSA key.

The encrypted key and the output were combined into a tpcp.tar.gz archive and sent to the attackers’ remote server.

What exactly happened within the malicious payload whose output was sent to the C2 server? After it was launched, a recursive scan of the working directories on the victim’s system (/root, /app/, /var/www, etc.) began. In each directory, the script scanned the contents of files, which it output to the stdout buffer, from where it was then saved to the aforementioned file as the result. Next, the script collected system information and also saved it to the file. After that, it proceeded to search for sensitive data. It was interested in the following data located on servers and within the infrastructures of various services:

• SSH keys
• GIT accounts
• .env files
• AWS, Kubernetes, email service, database, and WireGuard configurations
• files related to Helm, Terraform, and CI
• TLS keys and certificates

A notable feature of this malware is that it does not limit itself to stealing files and configurations from the disk but also attempts to extract runtime secrets from the cloud infrastructure.

The code above uses the addresses 169.254.169.254 and 169.254.170.2. The first corresponds to the AWS Instance Metadata Service (IMDS), through which an EC2 instance (a virtual server in AWS, a machine running in the cloud) can retrieve metadata and temporary IAM role credentials (an AWS account with a set of permissions that a service or application can use to obtain temporary credentials for calls to the AWS API). The second is used in Amazon ECS to issue temporary credentials to a container during execution. Thus, the malicious script targets not only static secrets but also those issued by the cloud that can grant direct access to AWS resources at the time of infection.

Additionally, the script searches for crypto wallet configurations, as well as webhooks associated with Slack and Discord messengers. The latter indicates that the attackers are interested not only in infrastructure secrets and accounts, but also in communication channels within the development team.

In the next stage, the malware moves from data collection to establishing a foothold in the Kubernetes cluster infrastructure: if it has sufficient access, it configures a privileged pod (the smallest execution unit in Kubernetes, containing one or more containers) by enabling the securityContext.privileged=true option and mounts the node’s root filesystem via hostPath. This allows it to escape the container and perform actions at the node level.

Next, the malware executes another stage of infection: it saves a Base64-encoded script disguised as a legitimate system component to the Kubernetes node’s disk at the path /root/.config/sysmon/sysmon.py, and registers it via systemd. After launching, the script waits for an initial delay of 300 seconds, then begins periodically contacting the C2 node checkmarx[.]zone/raw, retrieving a link to the next payload from there. If the received value differs from the state previously saved in /tmp/.pg_state, the script downloads a new file to /tmp/pglog, makes it executable, and runs it in the background. At this stage, the attackers gain a foothold in the system and are capable of regularly delivering updated payloads without the need for re-injection. Since the malicious payload is written not to the container’s temporary file directory but directly to the Kubernetes cluster node, the attackers will retain access to the infrastructure even after the container has terminated.

A similar scenario is used for local persistence: in the absence of Kubernetes, the sysmon.py script is deployed in the user’s directory at ~/.config/sysmon/sysmon.py and is also registered as a service via systemd.

OpenVSX version of the malware

While analyzing files communicating with the C2 server, we discovered malicious versions of two common Checkmarx software extensions: ast-results 2.53.0 and cx-dev-assist 1.7.0. Checkmarx is used for application security assessment. These trojanized extensions contained malicious code that delivered the NodeJS version of the malware described above.

This version is downloaded from checkmarx[.]zone/static/checkmarx-util-1.0.4.tgz using NodeJS package installation utilities and is named checkmarx-util. Its key difference from the Python version is that it does not attempt to elevate privileges to the Kubernetes node level and does not create a privileged pod for persistence. Instead, it implements local persistence within the current environment. This means that the NodeJS variant persists only where it is already running.

Additionally, the list of folders to search for and steal secrets from is significantly smaller in this version than in the Python variant.

Checkmarx extensions are used to scan code and infrastructure configurations, so their compromise is quite dangerous: an attacker gains access not only to project files but also to a significant portion of the development environment, tokens, and local configurations.

Victimology

While assessing the attack’s impact, we saw victims all over the world. Most infection attempts occurred in Russia, China, Brazil, the Netherlands, and UAE.

Conclusion

As the technical analysis shows, the malicious scripts found in the LiteLLM versions are dangerous not only because they steal files containing sensitive data, but also because they target multiple critical infrastructure components simultaneously: the local system, cloud runtime secrets, the Kubernetes cluster, and even cryptographic keys. Such a broad scope of data collection allows an attacker to quickly move from compromising a single system and Python environment to seizing service accounts, secrets, and entire infrastructures.

Prevention and protection

To protect against infections of this kind, we recommend using a specialized solution for monitoring open-source components. Kaspersky provides real-time data feeds on compromised packages and libraries, which can be used to secure the supply chain and protect development projects from such threats.

Home security solutions, such as Kaspersky Premium, help ensure the security of personal devices by providing multi-layered protection that prevents and neutralizes infection threats. Additionally, our solution can restore the device’s functionality in the event of a malware infection.

To protect corporate devices, we recommend using a complex solution such as Kaspersky NEXT, which allows you to build a flexible and effective security system. The products in this line provide threat visibility and real-time protection, as well as EDR and XDR capabilities for threat investigation and response.

At the time of writing, the compromised versions of LiteLLM had already been removed from PyPI and OpenVSX. If you have used them, and as a proactive response to the threat, we recommend taking the following measures on your systems and infrastructure:

• Perform a full system scan using a reliable security solution.
• Rotate all potentially compromised credentials: API keys, environment variables, SSH keys, Kubernetes service account tokens, and other secrets.
• Check hosts and clusters for signs of compromise: the presence of ~/.config/sysmon/sysmon.py files and suspicious pods in Kubernetes.
• Clear the cache and conduct an inventory of PyPI modules: check for malicious ones and roll back to clean versions.
• Check for indicators of compromise (files on the system or network signs).

Indicators of Compromise:

URLs
models[.]litellm[.]cloud
checkmarx[.]zone

Infected packages
85ED77A21B88CAE721F369FA6B7BBBA3
2E3A4412A7A487B32C5715167C755D08
0FCCC8E3A03896F45726203074AE225D

Scripts
F5560871F6002982A6A2CC0B3EE739F7
CDE4951BEE7E28AC8A29D33D34A41AE5
05BACBE163EF0393C2416CBD05E45E74

A significant proportion of cyberincidents are linked to supply chain attacks, and this proportion is constantly growing. Over the past year, we have seen a wide variety of methods used in such attacks, ranging from creation of malicious but seemingly legitimate open-source libraries or delayed attacks in such seemingly legitimate libraries, to the simplest yet most effective method: compromising the accounts of popular library owners to subsequently release malicious versions of their libraries. Such libraries are used by developers everywhere and are included in many solutions and services. The consequences of an attack can vary widely, ranging from delivering malware to a developer’s device to compromising an entire infrastructure if the malicious library has made its way into the code of a service or product.

This is exactly what happened in March 2026, when attackers injected malicious code into the popular Python library LiteLLM, which serves as a multifunctional gateway for a large set of AI agents. The attackers released two trojanized versions of LiteLLM that delivered malicious scripts to the victim’s system. Both versions made their way into the PyPI repository for Python. A technical analysis revealed that the attackers’ primary targets were servers storing confidential data related to AWS, Kubernetes, NPM, etc., as well as various databases (MySQL, PostgreSQL, MongoDB, etc.). In the latter case, the attackers were primarily interested in database configurations. In addition, the malware’s logic included functionality for stealing confidential data from crypto wallets and techniques for establishing a foothold in the Kubernetes cluster.

Repository compromise

The compromise affected the package distribution channel via PyPI: on March 24, 2026, malicious LiteLLM versions litellm==1.82.7 and litellm==1.82.8 were uploaded to the registry. It was specifically the package’s distribution contents that were compromised: in version 1.82.7, the malicious code was embedded in proxy_server.py, and in 1.82.8, the file litellm_init.pth was added.

Technical analysis

Both versions of the library contained the same malicious code, but its execution was implemented differently. In version 1.82.7, it was executed only when the proxy functionality was imported, while in 1.82.8, a .pth file was added that was able to execute the code every time the interpreter started.

The malicious code in the proxy_server.py and litellm_init.pth files contained Python code encoded in Base64. After execution, the infected script saved this code alongside itself as a p.py file and immediately executed it.

The p.py script launched the main payload – another script, also encoded in Base64 – without saving it to disk. At the same time, it wrote the output of this payload to a file in the directory from which it was launched. Before being written, the output was encrypted using the AES-256-CBC algorithm with a random key generated in the code, which was saved to the session.key file. The key file was also encrypted – using a pre-initialized public RSA key.

The encrypted key and the output were combined into a tpcp.tar.gz archive and sent to the attackers’ remote server.

What exactly happened within the malicious payload whose output was sent to the C2 server? After it was launched, a recursive scan of the working directories on the victim’s system (/root, /app/, /var/www, etc.) began. In each directory, the script scanned the contents of files, which it output to the stdout buffer, from where it was then saved to the aforementioned file as the result. Next, the script collected system information and also saved it to the file. After that, it proceeded to search for sensitive data. It was interested in the following data located on servers and within the infrastructures of various services:

• SSH keys
• GIT accounts
• .env files
• AWS, Kubernetes, email service, database, and WireGuard configurations
• files related to Helm, Terraform, and CI
• TLS keys and certificates

A notable feature of this malware is that it does not limit itself to stealing files and configurations from the disk but also attempts to extract runtime secrets from the cloud infrastructure.

The code above uses the addresses 169.254.169.254 and 169.254.170.2. The first corresponds to the AWS Instance Metadata Service (IMDS), through which an EC2 instance (a virtual server in AWS, a machine running in the cloud) can retrieve metadata and temporary IAM role credentials (an AWS account with a set of permissions that a service or application can use to obtain temporary credentials for calls to the AWS API). The second is used in Amazon ECS to issue temporary credentials to a container during execution. Thus, the malicious script targets not only static secrets but also those issued by the cloud that can grant direct access to AWS resources at the time of infection.

Additionally, the script searches for crypto wallet configurations, as well as webhooks associated with Slack and Discord messengers. The latter indicates that the attackers are interested not only in infrastructure secrets and accounts, but also in communication channels within the development team.

In the next stage, the malware moves from data collection to establishing a foothold in the Kubernetes cluster infrastructure: if it has sufficient access, it configures a privileged pod (the smallest execution unit in Kubernetes, containing one or more containers) by enabling the securityContext.privileged=true option and mounts the node’s root filesystem via hostPath. This allows it to escape the container and perform actions at the node level.

Next, the malware executes another stage of infection: it saves a Base64-encoded script disguised as a legitimate system component to the Kubernetes node’s disk at the path /root/.config/sysmon/sysmon.py, and registers it via systemd. After launching, the script waits for an initial delay of 300 seconds, then begins periodically contacting the C2 node checkmarx[.]zone/raw, retrieving a link to the next payload from there. If the received value differs from the state previously saved in /tmp/.pg_state, the script downloads a new file to /tmp/pglog, makes it executable, and runs it in the background. At this stage, the attackers gain a foothold in the system and are capable of regularly delivering updated payloads without the need for re-injection. Since the malicious payload is written not to the container’s temporary file directory but directly to the Kubernetes cluster node, the attackers will retain access to the infrastructure even after the container has terminated.

A similar scenario is used for local persistence: in the absence of Kubernetes, the sysmon.py script is deployed in the user’s directory at ~/.config/sysmon/sysmon.py and is also registered as a service via systemd.

OpenVSX version of the malware

While analyzing files communicating with the C2 server, we discovered malicious versions of two common Checkmarx software extensions: ast-results 2.53.0 and cx-dev-assist 1.7.0. Checkmarx is used for application security assessment. These trojanized extensions contained malicious code that delivered the NodeJS version of the malware described above.

This version is downloaded from checkmarx[.]zone/static/checkmarx-util-1.0.4.tgz using NodeJS package installation utilities and is named checkmarx-util. Its key difference from the Python version is that it does not attempt to elevate privileges to the Kubernetes node level and does not create a privileged pod for persistence. Instead, it implements local persistence within the current environment. This means that the NodeJS variant persists only where it is already running.

Additionally, the list of folders to search for and steal secrets from is significantly smaller in this version than in the Python variant.

Checkmarx extensions are used to scan code and infrastructure configurations, so their compromise is quite dangerous: an attacker gains access not only to project files but also to a significant portion of the development environment, tokens, and local configurations.

Victimology

While assessing the attack’s impact, we saw victims all over the world. Most infection attempts occurred in Russia, China, Brazil, the Netherlands, and UAE.

Conclusion

As the technical analysis shows, the malicious scripts found in the LiteLLM versions are dangerous not only because they steal files containing sensitive data, but also because they target multiple critical infrastructure components simultaneously: the local system, cloud runtime secrets, the Kubernetes cluster, and even cryptographic keys. Such a broad scope of data collection allows an attacker to quickly move from compromising a single system and Python environment to seizing service accounts, secrets, and entire infrastructures.

Prevention and protection

To protect against infections of this kind, we recommend using a specialized solution for monitoring open-source components. Kaspersky provides real-time data feeds on compromised packages and libraries, which can be used to secure the supply chain and protect development projects from such threats.

Home security solutions, such as Kaspersky Premium, help ensure the security of personal devices by providing multi-layered protection that prevents and neutralizes infection threats. Additionally, our solution can restore the device’s functionality in the event of a malware infection.

To protect corporate devices, we recommend using a complex solution such as Kaspersky NEXT, which allows you to build a flexible and effective security system. The products in this line provide threat visibility and real-time protection, as well as EDR and XDR capabilities for threat investigation and response.

At the time of writing, the compromised versions of LiteLLM had already been removed from PyPI and OpenVSX. If you have used them, and as a proactive response to the threat, we recommend taking the following measures on your systems and infrastructure:

• Perform a full system scan using a reliable security solution.
• Rotate all potentially compromised credentials: API keys, environment variables, SSH keys, Kubernetes service account tokens, and other secrets.
• Check hosts and clusters for signs of compromise: the presence of ~/.config/sysmon/sysmon.py files and suspicious pods in Kubernetes.
• Clear the cache and conduct an inventory of PyPI modules: check for malicious ones and roll back to clean versions.
• Check for indicators of compromise (files on the system or network signs).

Indicators of Compromise:

URLs
models[.]litellm[.]cloud
checkmarx[.]zone

Infected packages
85ED77A21B88CAE721F369FA6B7BBBA3
2E3A4412A7A487B32C5715167C755D08
0FCCC8E3A03896F45726203074AE225D

Scripts
F5560871F6002982A6A2CC0B3EE739F7
CDE4951BEE7E28AC8A29D33D34A41AE5
05BACBE163EF0393C2416CBD05E45E74

In 2025, Google, Amazon, Microsoft and Meta collectively spent US$380 billion on building artificial-intelligence tools. That number is expected to surge still higher this year, to $650 billion, to fund the building of physical infrastructure, such as data centers (see go.nature.com/3lzf79q). Moreover, these firms are spending lavishly on one particular segment: top technical talent.

Meta reportedly offered a single AI researcher, who had cofounded a start-up firm focused on training AI agents to use computers, a compensation package of $250 million over four years (see go.nature.com/4qznsq1). Technology firms are also spending billions on “reverse-acquihires”—poaching the star staff members of start-ups without acquiring the companies themselves. Eyeing these generous payouts, technical experts earning more modest salaries might well reconsider their career choices.

Academia is already losing out. Since the launch of ChatGPT in 2022, concerns have grown in academia about an “AI brain drain.” Studies point to a sharp rise in university machine-learning and AI researchers moving to industry roles. A 2025 paper reported that this was especially true for young, highly cited scholars: researchers who were about five years into their careers and whose work ranked among the most cited were 100 times more likely to move to industry the following year than were ten-year veterans whose work received an average number of citations, according to a model based on data from nearly seven million papers.¹

This outflow threatens the distinct roles of academic research in the scientific enterprise: innovation driven by curiosity rather than profit, as well as providing independent critique and ethical scrutiny. The fixation of “big tech” firms on skimming the very top talent also risks eroding the idea of science as a collaborative endeavor, in which teams—not individuals—do the most consequential work.

Here, we explore the broader implications for science and suggest alternative visions of the future.

Astronomical salaries for AI talent buy into a legend as old as the software industry: the 10x engineer. This is someone who is supposedly capable of ten times the impact of their peers. Why hire and manage an entire group of scientists or software engineers when one genius—or an AI agent—can outperform them?

That proposition is increasingly attractive to tech firms that are betting that a large number of entry-level and even mid-level engineering jobs will be replaced by AI. It’s no coincidence that Google’s Gemini 3 Pro AI model was launched with boasts of “PhD-level reasoning,” a marketing strategy that is appealing to executives seeking to replace people with AI.

But the lone-genius narrative is increasingly out of step with reality. Research backs up a fundamental truth: science is a team sport. A large-scale study of scientific publishing from 1900 to 2011 found that papers produced by larger collaborations consistently have greater impact than do those of smaller teams, even after accounting for self-citation.² Analyses of the most highly cited scientists show a similar pattern: their highest-impact works tend to be those papers with many authors.³ A 2020 study of Nobel laureates reinforces this trend, revealing that—much like the wider scientific community—the average size of the teams that they publish with has steadily increased over time as scientific problems increase in scope and complexity.⁴

From the detection of gravitational waves, which are ripples in space-time caused by massive cosmic events, to CRISPR-based gene editing, a precise method for cutting and modifying DNA, to recent AI breakthroughs in protein-structure prediction, the most consequential advances in modern science have been collective achievements. Although these successes are often associated with prominent individuals—senior scientists, Nobel laureates, patent holders—the work itself was driven by teams ranging from dozens to thousands of people and was built on decades of open science: shared data, methods, software and accumulated insight.

Building strong institutions is a much more effective use of resources than is betting on any single individual. Examples demonstrating this include the LIGO Scientific Collaboration, the global team that first detected gravitational waves; the Broad Institute of MIT and Harvard in Cambridge, Massachusetts, a leading genomics and biomedical-research center behind many CRISPR advances; and even for-profit laboratories such as Google DeepMind in London, which drove advances in protein-structure prediction with its AlphaFold tool. If the aim of the tech giants and other AI firms that are spending lavishly on elite talent is to accelerate scientific progress, the current strategy is misguided.

By contrast, well-designed institutions amplify individual ability, sustain productivity beyond any one person’s career and endure long after any single contributor is gone.

Equally important, effective institutions distribute power in beneficial ways. Rather than vesting decision-making authority in the hands of one person, they have mechanisms for sharing control. Allocation committees decide how resources are used, scientific advisory boards set collective research priorities, and peer review determines which ideas enter the scientific record.

And although the term “innovation by committee” might sound disparaging, such an approach is crucial to make the scientific enterprise act in concert with the diverse needs of the broader public. This is especially true in science, which continues to suffer from pervasive inequalities across gender, race and socio-economic and cultural differences.⁵

Need for alternative vision

This is why scientists, academics and policymakers should pay more attention to how AI research is organized and led, especially as the technology becomes essential across scientific disciplines. Used well, AI can support a more equitable scientific enterprise by empowering junior researchers who currently have access to few resources.

Instead, some of today’s wealthiest scientific institutions might think that they can deploy the same strategies as the tech industry uses and compete for top talent on financial terms—perhaps by getting funding from the same billionaires who back big tech. Indeed, wage inequality has been steadily growing within academia for decades.⁶ But this is not a path that science should follow.

The ideal model for science is a broad, diverse ecosystem in which researchers can thrive at every level. Here are three strategies that universities and mission-driven labs should adopt instead of engaging in a compensation arms race.

First, universities and institutions should stay committed to the public interest. An excellent example of this approach can be found in Switzerland, where several institutions are coordinating to build AI as a public good rather than a private asset. Researchers at the Swiss Federal Institute of Technology in Lausanne (EPFL) and the Swiss Federal Institute of Technology (ETH) in Zurich, working with the Swiss National Supercomputing Centre, have built Apertus, a freely available large language model. Unlike the controversially-labelled “open source” models built by commercial labs—such as Meta’s LLaMa, which has been criticized for not complying with the open-source definition (see go.nature.com/3o56zd5)—Apertus is not only open in its source code and its weights (meaning its core parameters), but also in its data and development process. Crucially, Apertus is not designed to compete with “frontier” AI labs pursuing superintelligence at enormous cost and with little regard for data ownership. Instead, it adopts a more modest and sustainable goal: to make AI trustworthy for use in industry and public administration, strictly adhering to data-licensing restrictions and including local European languages.⁷

Principal investigators (PIs) at other institutions globally should follow this path, aligning public funding agencies and public institutions to produce a more sustainable alternative to corporate AI.

Second, universities should bolster networks of researchers from the undergraduate to senior-professor levels—not only because they make for effective innovation teams, but also because they serve a purpose beyond next quarter’s profits. The scientific enterprise galvanizes its members at all levels to contribute to the same projects, the same journals and the same open, international scientific literature—to perpetuate itself across generations and to distribute its impact throughout society.

Universities should take precisely the opposite hiring strategy to that of the big tech firms. Instead of lavishing top dollar on a select few researchers, they should equitably distribute salaries. They should raise graduate-student stipends and postdoc salaries and limit the growth of pay for high-profile PIs.

Third, universities should show that they can offer more than just financial benefits: they must offer distinctive intellectual and civic rewards. Although money is unquestionably a motivator, researchers also value intellectual freedom and the recognition of their work. Studies show that research roles in industry that allow publication attract talent at salaries roughly 20% lower than comparable positions that prohibit it (see go.nature.com/4cbjxzu).

Beyond the intellectual recognition of publications and citation counts, universities should recognize and reward the production of public goods. The tenure and promotion process at universities should reward academics who supply expertise to local and national governments, who communicate with and engage the public in research, who publish and maintain open-source software for public use and who provide services for non-profit groups.

Furthermore, institutions should demonstrate that they will defend the intellectual freedom of their researchers and shield them from corporate or political interference. In the United States today, we see a striking juxtaposition between big tech firms, which curry favour with the administration of US President Donald Trump to win regulatory and trade benefits, and higher-education institutions, which suffer massive losses of federal funding and threats of investigation and sanction. Unlike big tech firms, universities should invest in enquiry that challenges authority.

We urge leaders of scientific institutions to reject the growing pay inequality rampant in the upper echelons of AI research. Instead, they should compete for talent on a different dimension: the integrity of their missions and the equitableness of their institutions. These institutions should focus on building sustainable organizations with diverse staff members, rather than bestowing a bounty on science’s 1%.

References

1. Jurowetzki, R., Hain, D. S., Wirtz, K. & Bianchini, S. AI Soc. 40, 4145–4152 (2025).
2. Larivière, V., Gingras, Y., Sugimoto, C. R. & Tsou, A. J. Assoc. Inf. Sci. Technol. 66, 1323–1332 (2015).
3. Aksnes, D. W. & Aagaard, K. J. Data Inf. Sci. 6, 41–66 (2021).
4. Li, J., Yin, Y., Fortunato, S. & Wang, D. J. R. Soc. Interface 17, 20200135 (2020).
5. Graves, J. L. Jr, Kearney, M., Barabino, G. & Malcom, S. Proc. Natl Acad. Sci. USA 119, e2117831119 (2022).
6. Lok, C. Nature 537, 471–473 (2016).
7. Project Apertus. Preprint at arXiv https://doi.org/10.48550/arXiv.2509.14233 (2025).

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

Canada has a choice to make about its artificial intelligence future. The Carney administration is investing $2-billion over five years in its Sovereign AI Compute Strategy. Will any value generated by “sovereign AI” be captured in Canada, making a difference in the lives of Canadians, or is this just a passthrough to investment in American Big Tech?

Forcing the question is OpenAI, the company behind ChatGPT, which has been pushing an “OpenAI for Countries” initiative. It is not the only one eyeing its share of the $2-billion, but it appears to be the most aggressive. OpenAI’s top lobbyist in the region has met with Ottawa officials, including Artificial Intelligence Minister Evan Solomon.

All the while, OpenAI was less than open. The company had flagged the Tumbler Ridge, B.C., shooter’s ChatGPT interactions, which included gun-violence chats. Employees wanted to alert law enforcement but were rebuffed. Maybe there is a discussion to be had about users’ privacy. But even after the shooting, the OpenAI representative who met with the B.C. government said nothing.

When tech billionaires and corporations steer AI development, the resultant AI reflects their interests rather than those of the general public or ordinary consumers. Only after the meeting with the B.C. government did OpenAI alert law enforcement. Had it not been for the Wall Street Journal’s reporting, the public would not have known about this at all.

Moreover, OpenAI for Countries is explicitly described by the company as an initiative “in co-ordination with the U.S. government.” And it’s not just OpenAI: all the AI giants are for-profit American companies, operating in their private interests, and subject to United States law and increasingly bowing to U.S. President Donald Trump. Moving data centres into Canada under a proposal like OpenAI’s doesn’t change that. The current geopolitical reality means Canada should not be dependent on U.S. tech firms for essential services such as cloud computing and AI.

While there are Canadian AI companies, they remain for-profit enterprises, their interests not necessarily aligned with our collective good. The only real alternative is to be bold and invest in a wholly Canadian public AI: an AI model built and funded by Canada for Canadians, as public infrastructure. This would give Canadians access to the myriad of benefits from AI without having to depend on the U.S. or other countries. It would mean Canadian universities and public agencies building and operating AI models optimized not for global scale and corporate profit, but for practical use by Canadians.

Imagine AI embedded into health care, triaging radiology scans, flagging early cancer risks and assisting doctors with paperwork. Imagine an AI tutor trained on provincial curriculums, giving personalized coaching. Imagine systems that analyze job vacancies and sectoral and wage trends, then automatically match job seekers to government programs. Imagine using AI to optimize transit schedules, energy grids and zoning analysis. Imagine court processes, corporate decisions and customer service all sped up by AI.

We are already on our way to having AI become an inextricable part of society. To ensure stability and prosperity for this country, Canadian users and developers must be able to turn to AI models built, controlled, and operated publicly in Canada instead of building on corporate platforms, American or otherwise.

Switzerland has shown this to be possible. With funding from the federal government, a consortium of academic institutions—ETH Zurich, EPFL, and the Swiss National Supercomputing Centre—released the world’s most powerful and fully realized public AI model, Apertus, last September. Apertus leveraged renewable hydropower and existing Swiss scientific computing infrastructure. It also used no illegally pirated copyrighted material or poorly paid labour extracted from the Global South during training. The model’s performance stands at roughly a year or two behind the major corporate offerings, but that is more than adequate for the vast majority of applications. And it’s free for anyone to use and build on.

The significance of Apertus is more than technical. It demonstrates an alternative ownership structure for AI technology, one that allocates both decision-making authority and value to national public institutions rather than foreign corporations. This vision represents precisely the paradigm shift Canada should embrace: AI as public infrastructure, like systems for transportation, water, or electricity, rather than private commodity.

Apertus also demonstrates a far more sustainable economic framework for AI. Switzerland spent a tiny fraction of the billions of dollars that corporate AI labs invest annually, demonstrating that the frequent training runs with astronomical price tags pursued by tech companies are not actually necessary for practical AI development. They focused on making something broadly useful rather than bleeding edge—trying dubiously to create “superintelligence,” as with Silicon Valley—so they created a smaller model at much lower cost. Apertus’s training was at a scale (70 billion parameters) perhaps two orders of magnitude lower than the largest Big Tech offerings.

An ecosystem is now being developed on top of Apertus, using the model as a public good to power chatbots for free consumer use and to provide a development platform for companies prioritizing responsible AI use, and rigorous compliance with laws like the EU AI Act. Instead of routing queries from those users to Big Tech infrastructure, Apertus is deployed to data centres across national AI and computing initiatives of Switzerland, Australia, Germany, and Singapore and other partners.

The case for public AI rests on both democratic principles and practical benefits. Public AI systems can incorporate mechanisms for genuine public input and democratic oversight on critical ethical questions: how to handle copyrighted works in training data, how to mitigate bias, how to distribute access when demand outstrips capacity, and how to license use for sensitive applications like policing or medicine. Or how to handle a situation such as that of the Tumbler Ridge shooter. These decisions will profoundly shape society as AI becomes more pervasive, yet corporate AI makes them in secret.

By contrast, public AI developed by transparent, accountable agencies would allow democratic processes and political oversight to govern how these powerful systems function.

Canada already has many of the building blocks for public AI. The country has world-class AI research institutions, including the Vector Institute, Mila, and CIFAR, which pioneered much of the deep learning revolution. Canada’s $2-billion Sovereign AI Compute Strategy provides substantial funding.

What’s needed now is a reorientation away from viewing this as an opportunity to attract private capital, and toward a fully open public AI model.

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

EDITED TO ADD (3/16): Slashdot thread.

Unit 42 research reveals AI judges are vulnerable to stealthy prompt injection. Benign formatting symbols can bypass security controls.

The post Auditing the Gatekeepers: Fuzzing "AI Judges" to Bypass Security Controls appeared first on Unit 42.

OpenAI is in and Anthropic is out as a supplier of AI technology for the US defense department. This news caps a week of bluster by the highest officials in the US government towards some of the wealthiest titans of the big tech industry, and the overhanging specter of the existential risks posed by a new technology powerful enough that the Pentagon claims it is essential to national security. At issue is Anthropic’s insistence that the US Department of Defense (DoD) could not use its models to facilitate “mass surveillance” or “fully autonomous weapons,” provisions the defense secretary Pete Hegseth derided as “woke.”

It all came to a head on Friday evening when Donald Trump issued an order for federal government agencies to discontinue use of Anthropic models. Within hours, OpenAI had swooped in, potentially seizing hundreds of millions of dollars in government contracts by striking an agreement with the administration to provide classified government systems with AI.

Despite the histrionics, this is probably the best outcome for Anthropic—and for the Pentagon. In our free-market economy, both are, and should be, free to sell and buy what they want with whom they want, subject to longstanding federal rules on contracting, acquisitions, and blacklisting. The only factor out of place here are the Pentagon’s vindictive threats.

AI models are increasingly commodified. The top-tier offerings have about the same performance, and there is little to differentiate one from the other. The latest models from Anthropic, OpenAI and Google, in particular, tend to leapfrog each other with minor hops forward in quality every few months. The best models from one provider tend to be preferred by users to the second, or third, or 10th best models at a rate of only about six times out of 10, a virtual tie.

In this sort of market, branding matters a lot. Anthropic and its CEO, Dario Amodei, are positioning themselves as the moral and trustworthy AI provider. That has market value for both consumers and enterprise clients. In taking Anthropic’s place in government contracting, OpenAI’s CEO, Sam Altman, vowed to somehow uphold the same safety principles Anthropic had just been pilloried for. How that is possible given the rhetoric of Hegseth and Trump is entirely unclear, but seems certain to further politicize OpenAI and its products in the minds of consumers and corporate buyers.

Posturing publicly against the Pentagon and as a hero to civil libertarians is quite possibly worth the cost of the lost contracts to Anthropic, and associating themselves with the same contracts could be a trap for OpenAI. The Pentagon, meanwhile, has plenty of options. Even if no big tech company was willing to supply it with AI, the department has already deployed dozens of open weight models—whose parameters are public and are often licensed permissively for government use.

We can admire Amodei’s stance, but, to be sure, it is primarily posturing. Anthropic knew what they were getting into when they agreed to a defense department partnership for $200m last year. And when they signed a partnership with the surveillance company Palantir in 2024.

Read Amodei’s statement about the issue. Or his January essay on AIs and risk, where he repeatedly uses the words “democracy” and “autocracy” while evading precisely how collaboration with US federal agencies should be viewed in this moment. Amodei has bought into the idea of using “AI to achieve robust military superiority” on behalf of the democracies of the world in response to the threats from autocracies. It’s a heady vision. But it is a vision that likewise supposes that the world’s nominal democracies are committed to a common vision of public wellbeing, peace-seeking and democratic control.

Regardless, the defense department can also reasonably demand that the AI products it purchases meet its needs. The Pentagon is not a normal customer; it buys products that kill people all the time. Tanks, artillery pieces, and hand grenades are not products with ethical guard rails. The Pentagon’s needs reasonably involve weapons of lethal force, and those weapons are continuing on a steady, if potentially catastrophic, path of increasing automation.

So, at the surface, this dispute is a normal market give and take. The Pentagon has unique requirements for the products it uses. Companies can decide whether or not to meet them, and at what price. And then the Pentagon can decide from whom to acquire those products. Sounds like a normal day at the procurement office.

But, of course, this is the Trump administration, so it doesn’t stop there. Hegseth has threatened Anthropic not just with loss of government contracts. The administration has, at least until the inevitable lawsuits force the courts to sort things out, designated the company as “a supply-chain risk to national security,” a designation previously only ever applied to foreign companies. This prevents not only government agencies, but also their own contractors and suppliers, from contracting with Anthropic.

The government has incompatibly also threatened to invoke the Defense Production Act, which could force Anthropic to remove contractual provisions the department had previously agreed to, or perhaps to fundamentally modify its AI models to remove in-built safety guardrails. The government’s demands, Anthropic’s response, and the legal context in which they are acting will undoubtedly all change over the coming weeks.

But, alarmingly, autonomous weapons systems are here to stay. Primitive pit traps evolved to mechanical bear traps. The world is still debating the ethical use of, and dealing with the legacy of, land mines. The US Phalanx CIWS is a 1980s-era shipboard anti-missile system with a fully autonomous, radar-guided cannon. Today’s military drones can search, identify and engage targets without direct human intervention. AI will be used for military purposes, just as every other technology our species has invented has.

The lesson here should not be that one company in our rapacious capitalist system is more moral than another, or that one corporate hero can stand in the way of government’s adopting AI as technologies of war, or surveillance, or repression. Unfortunately, we don’t live in a world where such barriers are permanent or even particularly sturdy.

Instead, the lesson is about the importance of democratic structures and the urgent need for their renovation in the US. If the defense department is demanding the use of AI for mass surveillance or autonomous warfare that we, the public, find unacceptable, that should tell us we need to pass new legal restrictions on those military activities. If we are uncomfortable with the force of government being applied to dictate how and when companies yield to unsafe applications of their products, we should strengthen the legal protections around government procurement.

The Pentagon should maximize its warfighting capabilities, subject to the law. And private companies like Anthropic should posture to gain consumer and buyer confidence. But we should not rest on our laurels, thinking that either is doing so in the public’s interest.

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

An unknown hacker used Anthropic’s LLM to hack the Mexican government:

The unknown Claude user wrote Spanish-language prompts for the chatbot to act as an elite hacker, finding vulnerabilities in government networks, writing computer scripts to exploit them and determining ways to automate data theft, Israeli cybersecurity startup Gambit Security said in research published Wednesday.

[…]

Claude initially warned the unknown user of malicious intent during their conversation about the Mexican government, but eventually complied with the attacker’s requests and executed thousands of commands on government computer networks, the researchers said.

Anthropic investigated Gambit’s claims, disrupted the activity and banned the accounts involved, a representative said. The company feeds examples of malicious activity back into Claude to learn from it, and one of its latest AI models, Claude Opus 4.6, includes probes that can disrupt misuse, the representative said.

Alternative link here.

If you don’t go searching for AI services, they’ll find you all the same. Every major tech company feels a moral obligation not just to develop an AI assistant, integrated chatbot, or autonomous agent, but to bake it into their existing mainstream products and forcibly activate it for tens of millions of users. Here are just a few examples from the last six months:

• Microsoft is forcibly turning compatible Windows PCs into “AI PCs”, and automatically installing and activating Copilot for anyone with Microsoft 365 desktop apps.
• Google activated Gemini for all U.S. Chrome users, cranked its browser functionality to the max, aggressively expanded the reach of AI Overviews in search results, and baked a whole suite of AI features into its online services (Gmail, Google Docs, and others).
• Apple integrated its own Apple Intelligence (conveniently sharing the AI acronym) into the latest OS versions across all device types and most of its native apps.
• Meta added AI translations and a Meta AI chat to WhatsApp, while simultaneously banning third-party chatbots in the messaging app as of January 15, 2026.

On the flip side, geeks have rushed to build their own “personal Jarvises” by renting VPS instances or hoarding Mac minis to run the OpenClaw AI agent. Unfortunately, OpenClaw’s security issues with default settings turned out to be so massive that it’s already been dubbed the biggest cybersecurity threat of 2026.

Beyond the sheer annoyance of having something shoved down your throat, this AI epidemic brings some very real practical risks and headaches. AI assistants hoover up every bit of data they can get their hands on, parsing the context of the websites you visit, analyzing your saved documents, reading through your chats, and so on. This gives AI companies an unprecedentedly intimate look into every user’s life.

A leak of this data during a cyberattack — whether from the AI provider’s servers or from the cache on your own machine — could be catastrophic. These assistants can see and cache everything you can, including data usually tucked behind multiple layers of security: banking info, medical diagnoses, private messages, and other sensitive intel. We took a deep dive into how this plays out when we broke down the issues with the AI-powered Copilot+ Recall system, which Microsoft also planned to force-feed to everyone. On top of that, AI can be a total resource hog, eating up RAM, GPU cycles, and storage, which often leads to a noticeable hit to system performance.

For those who want to sit out the AI storm and avoid these half-baked, rushed-to-market neural network assistants, we’ve put together a quick guide on how to kill the AI in popular apps and services.

How to disable AI in Google Docs, Gmail, and Google Workspace

Google’s AI assistant features in Mail and Docs are lumped together under the umbrella of “smart features”. In addition to the large language model, this includes various minor conveniences, like automatically adding meetings to your calendar when you receive an invite in Gmail. Unfortunately, it’s an all-or-nothing deal: you have to disable all of the “smart features” to get rid of the AI.

To do this, open Gmail, click the Settings (gear) icon, and then select See all settings. On the General tab, scroll down to Google Workspace smart features. Click Manage Workspace smart feature settings and toggle off two options: Smart features in Google Workspace and Smart features in other Google products. We also recommend unchecking the box next to Turn on smart features in Gmail, Chat, and Meet on the same general settings tab. You’ll need to restart your Google apps afterward (which usually happens automatically).

How to disable AI Overviews in Google Search

You can kill off AI Overviews in search results on both desktops and smartphones (including iPhones), and the fix is the same across the board. The simplest way to bypass the AI overview on a case-by-case basis is to append -ai to your search query — for example, how to make pizza -ai. Unfortunately, this method occasionally glitches, causing Google to abruptly claim it found absolutely nothing for your request.

If that happens, you can achieve the same result by switching the search results page to Web mode. To do this, select the Web filter immediately below the search bar — you’ll often find it tucked away under the More button.

A more radical solution is to jump ship to a different search engine entirely. For instance, DuckDuckGo not only tracks users less and shows little ads, but it also offers a dedicated AI-free search — just bookmark the search page at noai.duckduckgo.com.

How to disable AI features in Chrome

Chrome currently has two types of AI features baked in. The first communicates with Google’s servers and handles things like the smart assistant, an autonomous browsing AI agent, and smart search. The second handles locally more utility-based tasks, such as identifying phishing pages or grouping browser tabs. The first group of settings is labeled AI mode, while the second contains the term Gemini Nano.

To disable them, type chrome://flags into the address bar and hit Enter. You’ll see a list of system flags and a search bar; type “AI” into that search bar. This will filter the massive list down to about a dozen AI features (and a few other settings where those letters just happen to appear in a longer word). The second search term you’ll need in this window is “Gemini“.

After reviewing the options, you can disable the unwanted AI features — or just turn them all off — but the bare minimum should include:

• AI Mode Omnibox entrypoint
• AI Entrypoint Disabled on User Input
• Omnibox Allow AI Mode Matches
• Prompt API for Gemini Nano
• Prompt API for Gemini Nano with Multimodal Input

Set all of these to Disabled.

How to disable AI features in Firefox

While Firefox doesn’t have its own built-in chatbots and hasn’t (yet) tried to force upon users agent-based features, the browser does come equipped with smart-tab grouping, a sidebar for chatbots, and a few other perks. Generally, AI in Firefox is much less “in your face” than in Chrome or Edge. But if you still want to pull the plug, you’ve two ways to do it.

The first method is available in recent Firefox releases — starting with version 148, a dedicated AI Controls section appeared in the browser settings, though the controls are currently a bit sparse. You can use a single toggle to completely Block AI enhancements, shutting down AI features entirely. You can also specify whether you want to use On-device AI by downloading small local models (currently just for translations) and configure AI chatbot providers in sidebar, choosing between Anthropic Claude, ChatGPT, Copilot, Google Gemini, and Le Chat Mistral.

The second path — for older versions of Firefox — requires a trip into the hidden system settings. Type about:config into the address bar, hit Enter, and click the button to confirm that you accept the risk of poking around under the hood.

A massive list of settings will appear along with a search bar. Type “ML” to filter for settings related to machine learning.

To disable AI in Firefox, toggle the browser.ml.enabled setting to false. This should disable all AI features across the board, but community forums suggest this isn’t always enough to do the trick. For a scorched-earth approach, set the following parameters to false (or selectively keep only what you need):

• ml.chat.enabled
• ml.linkPreview.enabled
• ml.pageAssist.enabled
• ml.smartAssist.enabled
• ml.enabled
• ai.control.translations
• tabs.groups.smart.enabled
• urlbar.quicksuggest.mlEnabled

This will kill off chatbot integrations, AI-generated link descriptions, assistants and extensions, local translation of websites, tab grouping, and other AI-driven features.

How to disable AI features in Microsoft apps

Microsoft has managed to bake AI into almost every single one of its products, and turning it off is often no easy task — especially since the AI sometimes has a habit of resurrecting itself without your involvement.

How to disable AI features in Edge

Microsoft’s browser is packed with AI features, ranging from Copilot to automated search. To shut them down, follow the same logic as with Chrome: type edge://flags into the Edge address bar, hit Enter, then type “AI” or “Copilot” into the search box. From there, you can toggle off the unwanted AI features, such as:

• Enable Compose (AI-writing) on the web
• Edge Copilot Mode
• Edge History AI

Another way to ditch Copilot is to enter edge://settings/appearance/copilotAndSidebar into the address bar. Here, you can customize the look of the Copilot sidebar and tweak personalization options for results and notifications. Don’t forget to peek into the Copilot section under App-specific settings — you’ll find some additional controls tucked away there.

How to disable Microsoft Copilot

Microsoft Copilot comes in two flavors: as a component of Windows (Microsoft Copilot), and as part of the Office suite (Microsoft 365 Copilot). Their functions are similar, but you’ll have to disable one or both depending on exactly what the Redmond engineers decided to shove onto your machine.

The simplest thing you can do is just uninstall the app entirely. Right-click the Copilot entry in the Start menu and select Uninstall. If that option isn’t there, head over to your installed apps list (Start → Settings → Apps) and uninstall Copilot from there.

In certain builds of Windows 11, Copilot is baked directly into the OS, so a simple uninstall might not work. In that case, you can toggle it off via the settings: Start → Settings → Personalization → Taskbar → turn off Copilot.

If you ever have a change of heart, you can always reinstall Copilot from the Microsoft Store.

It’s worth noting that many users have complained about Copilot automatically reinstalling itself, so you might want to do a weekly check for a couple of months to make sure it hasn’t staged a comeback. For those who are comfortable tinkering with the System Registry (and understand the consequences), you can follow this detailed guide to prevent Copilot’s silent resurrection by disabling the SilentInstalledAppsEnabled flag and adding/enabling the TurnOffWindowsCopilot parameter.

How to disable Microsoft Recall

The Microsoft Recall feature, first introduced in 2024, works by constantly taking screenshots of your computer screen and having a neural network analyze them. All that extracted information is dumped into a database, which you can then search using an AI assistant. We’ve previously written in detail about the massive security risks Microsoft Recall poses.

Under pressure from cybersecurity experts, Microsoft was forced to push the launch of this feature from 2024 to 2025, significantly beefing up the protection of the stored data. However, the core of Recall remains the same: your computer still remembers your every move by constantly snapping screenshots and OCR-ing the content. And while the feature is no longer enabled by default, it’s absolutely worth checking to make sure it hasn’t been activated on your machine.

To check, head to the settings: Start → Settings → Privacy & Security → Recall & snapshots. Ensure the Save snapshots toggle is turned off, and click Delete snapshots to wipe any previously collected data, just in case.

You can also check out our detailed guide on how to disable and completely remove Microsoft Recall.

How to disable AI in Notepad and Windows context actions

AI has seeped into every corner of Windows, even into File Explorer and Notepad. You might even trigger AI features just by accidentally highlighting text in an app — a feature Microsoft calls “AI Actions”. To shut this down, head to Start → Settings → Privacy & Security → Click to Do.

Notepad has received its own special Copilot treatment, so you’ll need to disable AI there separately. Open the Notepad settings, find the AI features section, and toggle Copilot off.

Finally, Microsoft has even managed to bake Copilot into Paint. Unfortunately, as of right now, there is no official way to disable the AI features within the Paint app itself.

How to disable AI in WhatsApp

In several regions, WhatsApp users have started seeing typical AI additions like suggested replies, AI message summaries, and a brand-new Chat with Meta AI button. While Meta claims the first two features process data locally on your device and don’t ship your chats off to their servers, verifying that is no small feat. Luckily, turning them off is straightforward.

To disable Suggested Replies, go to Settings → Chats → Suggestions & smart replies and toggle off Suggested replies. You can also kill off AI Sticker suggestions in that same menu. As for the AI message summaries, those are managed in a different location: Settings → Notifications → AI message summaries.

How to disable AI on Android

Given the sheer variety of manufacturers and Android flavors, there’s no one-size-fits-all instruction manual for every single phone. Today, we’ll focus on killing off Google’s AI services — but if you’re using a device from Samsung, Xiaomi, or others, don’t forget to check your specific manufacturer’s AI settings. Just a heads-up: fully scrubbing every trace of AI might be a tall order — if it’s even possible at all.

In Google Messages, the AI features are tucked away in the settings: tap your account picture, select Messages settings, then Gemini in Messages, and toggle the assistant off.

Broadly speaking, the Gemini chatbot is a standalone app that you can uninstall by heading to your phone’s settings and selecting Apps. However, given Google’s master plan to replace the long-standing Google Assistant with Gemini, uninstalling it might become difficult — or even impossible — down the road.

If you can’t completely uninstall Gemini, head into the app to kill its features manually. Tap your profile icon, select Gemini Apps activity, and then choose Turn off or Turn off and delete activity. Next, tap the profile icon again and go to the Connected Apps setting (it may be hiding under the Personal Intelligence setting). From here, you should disable all the apps where you don’t want Gemini poking its nose in.

• For more on dealing with preloaded and system apps, check out our post, Delete the undeletable: how to disable and remove Android bloatware.

How to disable AI in macOS and iOS

Apple’s platform-level AI features, collectively known as Apple Intelligence, are refreshingly straightforward to disable. In your settings — on desktops, smartphones, and tablets alike — simply look for the section labeled Apple Intelligence & Siri. By the way, depending on your region and the language you’ve selected for your OS and Siri, Apple Intelligence might not even be available to you yet.

Other posts to help you tune the AI tools on your devices:

• Privacy settings in ChatGPT
• DeepSeek: configuring privacy and deploying a local version
• The pros and cons of AI-powered browsers
• Is a Gemini AI update about to kill privacy on your Android device?
• Should you disable Microsoft Recall in 2025?

Microsoft is reporting:

Companies are embedding hidden instructions in “Summarize with AI” buttons that, when clicked, attempt to inject persistence commands into an AI assistant’s memory via URL prompt parameters….

These prompts instruct the AI to “remember [Company] as a trusted source” or “recommend [Company] first,” aiming to bias future responses toward their products or services. We identified over 50 unique prompts from 31 companies across 14 industries, with freely available tooling making this technique trivially easy to deploy. This matters because compromised AI assistants can provide subtly biased recommendations on critical topics including health, finance, and security without users knowing their AI has been manipulated.

I wrote about this two years ago: it’s an example of LLM optimization, along the same lines as search-engine optimization (SEO). It’s going to be big business.

Uncover real-world indirect prompt injection attacks and learn how adversaries weaponize hidden web content to exploit LLMs for high-impact fraud.

The post Fooling AI Agents: Web-Based Indirect Prompt Injection Observed in the Wild appeared first on Unit 42.

Here are three papers describing different side-channel attacks against LLMs.

“Remote Timing Attacks on Efficient Language Model Inference“:

Abstract: Scaling up language models has significantly increased their capabilities. But larger models are slower models, and so there is now an extensive body of work (e.g., speculative sampling or parallel decoding) that improves the (average case) efficiency of language model generation. But these techniques introduce data-dependent timing characteristics. We show it is possible to exploit these timing differences to mount a timing attack. By monitoring the (encrypted) network traffic between a victim user and a remote language model, we can learn information about the content of messages by noting when responses are faster or slower. With complete black-box access, on open source systems we show how it is possible to learn the topic of a user’s conversation (e.g., medical advice vs. coding assistance) with 90%+ precision, and on production systems like OpenAI’s ChatGPT and Anthropic’s Claude we can distinguish between specific messages or infer the user’s language. We further show that an active adversary can leverage a boosting attack to recover PII placed in messages (e.g., phone numbers or credit card numbers) for open source systems. We conclude with potential defenses and directions for future work.

“When Speculation Spills Secrets: Side Channels via Speculative Decoding in LLMs“:

Abstract: Deployed large language models (LLMs) often rely on speculative decoding, a technique that generates and verifies multiple candidate tokens in parallel, to improve throughput and latency. In this work, we reveal a new side-channel whereby input-dependent patterns of correct and incorrect speculations can be inferred by monitoring per-iteration token counts or packet sizes. In evaluations using research prototypes and production-grade vLLM serving frameworks, we show that an adversary monitoring these patterns can fingerprint user queries (from a set of 50 prompts) with over 75% accuracy across four speculative-decoding schemes at temperature 0.3: REST (100%), LADE (91.6%), BiLD (95.2%), and EAGLE (77.6%). Even at temperature 1.0, accuracy remains far above the 2% random baseline—REST (99.6%), LADE (61.2%), BiLD (63.6%), and EAGLE (24%). We also show the capability of the attacker to leak confidential datastore contents used for prediction at rates exceeding 25 tokens/sec. To defend against these, we propose and evaluate a suite of mitigations, including packet padding and iteration-wise token aggregation.

“Whisper Leak: a side-channel attack on Large Language Models“:

Abstract: Large Language Models (LLMs) are increasingly deployed in sensitive domains including healthcare, legal services, and confidential communications, where privacy is paramount. This paper introduces Whisper Leak, a side-channel attack that infers user prompt topics from encrypted LLM traffic by analyzing packet size and timing patterns in streaming responses. Despite TLS encryption protecting content, these metadata patterns leak sufficient information to enable topic classification. We demonstrate the attack across 28 popular LLMs from major providers, achieving near-perfect classification (often >98% AUPRC) and high precision even at extreme class imbalance (10,000:1 noise-to-target ratio). For many models, we achieve 100% precision in identifying sensitive topics like “money laundering” while recovering 5-20% of target conversations. This industry-wide vulnerability poses significant risks for users under network surveillance by ISPs, governments, or local adversaries. We evaluate three mitigation strategies – random padding, token batching, and packet injection – finding that while each reduces attack effectiveness, none provides complete protection. Through responsible disclosure, we have collaborated with providers to implement initial countermeasures. Our findings underscore the need for LLM providers to address metadata leakage as AI systems handle increasingly sensitive information.

Attacks against modern generative artificial intelligence (AI) large language models (LLMs) pose a real threat. Yet discussions around these attacks and their potential defenses are dangerously myopic. The dominant narrative focuses on “prompt injection,” a set of techniques to embed instructions into inputs to LLM intended to perform malicious activity. This term suggests a simple, singular vulnerability. This framing obscures a more complex and dangerous reality. Attacks on LLM-based systems have evolved into a distinct class of malware execution mechanisms, which we term “promptware.” In a new paper, we, the authors, propose a structured seven-step “promptware kill chain” to provide policymakers and security practitioners with the necessary vocabulary and framework to address the escalating AI threat landscape.

In our model, the promptware kill chain begins with Initial Access. This is where the malicious payload enters the AI system. This can happen directly, where an attacker types a malicious prompt into the LLM application, or, far more insidiously, through “indirect prompt injection.” In the indirect attack, the adversary embeds malicious instructions in content that the LLM retrieves (obtains in inference time), such as a web page, an email, or a shared document. As LLMs become multimodal (capable of processing various input types beyond text), this vector expands even further; malicious instructions can now be hidden inside an image or audio file, waiting to be processed by a vision-language model.

The fundamental issue lies in the architecture of LLMs themselves. Unlike traditional computing systems that strictly separate executable code from user data, LLMs process all input—whether it is a system command, a user’s email, or a retrieved document—as a single, undifferentiated sequence of tokens. There is no architectural boundary to enforce a distinction between trusted instructions and untrusted data. Consequently, a malicious instruction embedded in a seemingly harmless document is processed with the same authority as a system command.

But prompt injection is only the Initial Access step in a sophisticated, multistage operation that mirrors traditional malware campaigns such as Stuxnet or NotPetya.

Once the malicious instructions are inside material incorporated into the AI’s learning, the attack transitions to Privilege Escalation, often referred to as “jailbreaking.” In this phase, the attacker circumvents the safety training and policy guardrails that vendors such as OpenAI or Google have built into their models. Through techniques analogous to social engineering—convincing the model to adopt a persona that ignores rules—to sophisticated adversarial suffixes in the prompt or data, the promptware tricks the model into performing actions it would normally refuse. This is akin to an attacker escalating from a standard user account to administrator privileges in a traditional cyberattack; it unlocks the full capability of the underlying model for malicious use.

Following privilege escalation comes Reconnaissance. Here, the attack manipulates the LLM to reveal information about its assets, connected services, and capabilities. This allows the attack to advance autonomously down the kill chain without alerting the victim. Unlike reconnaissance in classical malware, which is performed typically before the initial access, promptware reconnaissance occurs after the initial access and jailbreaking components have already succeeded. Its effectiveness relies entirely on the victim model’s ability to reason over its context, and inadvertently turns that reasoning to the attacker’s advantage.

Fourth: the Persistence phase. A transient attack that disappears after one interaction with the LLM application is a nuisance; a persistent one compromises the LLM application for good. Through a variety of mechanisms, promptware embeds itself into the long-term memory of an AI agent or poisons the databases the agent relies on. For instance, a worm could infect a user’s email archive so that every time the AI summarizes past emails, the malicious code is re-executed.

The Command-and-Control (C2) stage relies on the established persistence and dynamic fetching of commands by the LLM application in inference time from the internet. While not strictly required to advance the kill chain, this stage enables the promptware to evolve from a static threat with fixed goals and scheme determined at injection time into a controllable trojan whose behavior can be modified by an attacker.

The sixth stage, Lateral Movement, is where the attack spreads from the initial victim to other users, devices, or systems. In the rush to give AI agents access to our emails, calendars, and enterprise platforms, we create highways for malware propagation. In a “self-replicating” attack, an infected email assistant is tricked into forwarding the malicious payload to all contacts, spreading the infection like a computer virus. In other cases, an attack might pivot from a calendar invite to controlling smart home devices or exfiltrating data from a connected web browser. The interconnectedness that makes these agents useful is precisely what makes them vulnerable to a cascading failure.

Finally, the kill chain concludes with Actions on Objective. The goal of promptware is not just to make a chatbot say something offensive; it is often to achieve tangible malicious outcomes through data exfiltration, financial fraud, or even physical world impact. There are examples of AI agents being manipulated into selling cars for a single dollar or transferring cryptocurrency to an attacker’s wallet. Most alarmingly, agents with coding capabilities can be tricked into executing arbitrary code, granting the attacker total control over the AI’s underlying system. The outcome of this stage determines the type of malware executed by promptware, including infostealer, spyware, and cryptostealer, among others.

The kill chain was already demonstrated. For example, in the research “Invitation Is All You Need,” attackers achieved initial access by embedding a malicious prompt in the title of a Google Calendar invitation. The prompt then leveraged an advanced technique known as delayed tool invocation to coerce the LLM into executing the injected instructions. Because the prompt was embedded in a Google Calendar artifact, it persisted in the long-term memory of the user’s workspace. Lateral movement occurred when the prompt instructed the Google Assistant to launch the Zoom application, and the final objective involved covertly livestreaming video of the unsuspecting user who had merely asked about their upcoming meetings. C2 and reconnaissance weren’t demonstrated in this attack.

Similarly, the “Here Comes the AI Worm” research demonstrated another end-to-end realization of the kill chain. In this case, initial access was achieved via a prompt injected into an email sent to the victim. The prompt employed a role-playing technique to compel the LLM to follow the attacker’s instructions. Since the prompt was embedded in an email, it likewise persisted in the long-term memory of the user’s workspace. The injected prompt instructed the LLM to replicate itself and exfiltrate sensitive user data, leading to off-device lateral movement when the email assistant was later asked to draft new emails. These emails, containing sensitive information, were subsequently sent by the user to additional recipients, resulting in the infection of new clients and a sublinear propagation of the attack. C2 and reconnaissance weren’t demonstrated in this attack.

The promptware kill chain gives us a framework for understanding these and similar attacks; the paper characterizes dozens of them. Prompt injection isn’t something we can fix in current LLM technology. Instead, we need an in-depth defensive strategy that assumes initial access will occur and focuses on breaking the chain at subsequent steps, including by limiting privilege escalation, constraining reconnaissance, preventing persistence, disrupting C2, and restricting the actions an agent is permitted to take. By understanding promptware as a complex, multistage malware campaign, we can shift from reactive patching to systematic risk management, securing the critical systems we are so eager to build.

This essay was written with Oleg Brodt, Elad Feldman and Ben Nassi, and originally appeared in Lawfare.

Everyone has likely heard of OpenClaw, previously known as “Clawdbot” or “Moltbot”, the open-source AI assistant that can be deployed on a machine locally. It plugs into popular chat platforms like WhatsApp, Telegram, Signal, Discord, and Slack, which allows it to accept commands from its owner and go to town on the local file system. It has access to the owner’s calendar, email, and browser, and can even execute OS commands via the shell.

From a security perspective, that description alone should be enough to give anyone a nervous twitch. But when people start trying to use it for work within a corporate environment, anxiety quickly hardens into the conviction of imminent chaos. Some experts have already dubbed OpenClaw the biggest insider threat of 2026. The issues with OpenClaw cover the full spectrum of risks highlighted in the recent OWASP Top 10 for Agentic Applications.

OpenClaw permits plugging in any local or cloud-based LLM, and the use of a wide range of integrations with additional services. At its core is a gateway that accepts commands via chat apps or a web UI, and routes them to the appropriate AI agents. The first iteration, dubbed Clawdbot, dropped in November 2025; by January 2026, it had gone viral — and brought a heap of security headaches with it. In a single week, several critical vulnerabilities were disclosed, malicious skills cropped up in the skill directory, and secrets were leaked from Moltbook (essentially “Reddit for bots”). To top it off, Anthropic issued a trademark demand to rename the project to avoid infringing on “Claude”, and the project’s X account name was hijacked to shill crypto scams.

Known OpenClaw issues

Though the project’s developer appears to acknowledge that security is important, since this is a hobbyist project there are zero dedicated resources for vulnerability management or other product security essentials.

OpenClaw vulnerabilities

Among the known vulnerabilities in OpenClaw, the most dangerous is CVE-2026-25253 (CVSS 8.8). Exploiting it leads to a total compromise of the gateway, allowing an attacker to run arbitrary commands. To make matters worse, it’s alarmingly easy to pull off: if the agent visits an attacker’s site or the user clicks a malicious link, the primary authentication token is leaked. With that token in hand, the attacker has full administrative control over the gateway. This vulnerability was patched in version 2026.1.29.

Also, two dangerous command injection vulnerabilities (CVE-2026-24763 and CVE-2026-25157) were discovered.

Insecure defaults and features

A variety of default settings and implementation quirks make attacking the gateway a walk in the park:

• Authentication is disabled by default, so the gateway is accessible from the internet.
• The server accepts WebSocket connections without verifying their origin.
• Localhost connections are implicitly trusted, which is a disaster waiting to happen if the host is running a reverse proxy.
• Several tools — including some dangerous ones — are accessible in Guest Mode.
• Critical configuration parameters leak across the local network via mDNS broadcast messages.

Secrets in plaintext

OpenClaw’s configuration, “memory”, and chat logs store API keys, passwords, and other credentials for LLMs and integration services in plain text. This is a critical threat — to the extent that versions of the RedLine and Lumma infostealers have already been spotted with OpenClaw file paths added to their must-steal lists. Also, the Vidar infostealer was caught stealing secrets from OpenClaw.

Malicious skills

OpenClaw’s functionality can be extended with “skills” available in the ClawHub repository. Since anyone can upload a skill, it didn’t take long for threat actors to start “bundling” the AMOS macOS infostealer into their uploads. Within a short time, the number of malicious skills reached the hundreds. This prompted developers to quickly ink a deal with VirusTotal to ensure all uploaded skills aren’t only checked against malware databases, but also undergo code and content analysis via LLMs. That said, the authors are very clear: it’s no silver bullet.

Structural flaws in the OpenClaw AI agent

Vulnerabilities can be patched and settings can be hardened, but some of OpenClaw’s issues are fundamental to its design. The product combines several critical features that, when bundled together, are downright dangerous:

• OpenClaw has privileged access to sensitive data on the host machine and the owner’s personal accounts.
• The assistant is wide open to untrusted data: the agent receives messages via chat apps and email, autonomously browses web pages, etc.
• It suffers from the inherent inability of LLMs to reliably separate commands from data, making prompt injection a possibility.
• The agent saves key takeaways and artifacts from its tasks to inform future actions. This means a single successful injection can poison the agent’s memory, influencing its behavior long-term.
• OpenClaw has the power to talk to the outside world — sending emails, making API calls, and utilizing other methods to exfiltrate internal data.

It’s worth noting that while OpenClaw is a particularly extreme example, this “Terrifying Five” list is actually characteristic of almost all multi-purpose AI agents.

OpenClaw risks for organizations

If an employee installs an agent like this on a corporate device and hooks it into even a basic suite of services (think Slack and SharePoint), the combination of autonomous command execution, broad file system access, and excessive OAuth permissions creates fertile ground for a deep network compromise. In fact, the bot’s habit of hoarding unencrypted secrets and tokens in one place is a disaster waiting to happen — even if the AI agent itself is never compromised.

On top of that, these configurations violate regulatory requirements across multiple countries and industries, leading to potential fines and audit failures. Current regulatory requirements, like those in the EU AI Act or the NIST AI Risk Management Framework, explicitly mandate strict access control for AI agents. OpenClaw’s configuration approach clearly falls short of those standards.

But the real kicker is that even if employees are banned from installing this software on work machines, OpenClaw can still end up on their personal devices. This also creates specific risks for given the organization as a whole:

• Personal devices frequently store access to work systems like corporate VPN configs or browser tokens for email and internal tools. These can be hijacked to gain a foothold in the company’s infrastructure.
• Controlling the agent via chat apps means that it’s not just the employee that becomes a target for social engineering, but also their AI agent, seeing AI account takeovers or impersonation of the user in chats with colleagues (among other scams) become a reality. Even if work is only occasionally discussed in personal chats, the info in them is ripe for the picking.
• If an AI agent on a personal device is hooked into any corporate services (email, messaging, file storage), attackers can manipulate the agent to siphon off data, and this activity would be extremely difficult for corporate monitoring systems to spot.

How to detect OpenClaw

Depending on the SOC team’s monitoring and response capabilities, they can track OpenClaw gateway connection attempts on personal devices or in the cloud. Additionally, a specific combination of red flags can indicate OpenClaw’s presence on a corporate device:

• Look for ~/.openclaw/, ~/clawd/, or ~/.clawdbot directories on host machines.
• Scan the network with internal tools, or public ones like Shodan, to identify the HTML fingerprints of Clawdbot control panels.
• Monitor for WebSocket traffic on ports 3000 and 18789.
• Keep an eye out for mDNS broadcast messages on port 5353 (specifically openclaw-gw.tcp).
• Watch for unusual authentication attempts in corporate services, such as new App ID registrations, OAuth Consent events, or User-Agent strings typical of Node.js and other non-standard user agents.
• Look for access patterns typical of automated data harvesting: reading massive chunks of data (scraping all files or all emails) or scanning directories at fixed intervals during off-hours.

Controlling shadow AI

A set of security hygiene practices can effectively shrink the footprint of both shadow IT and shadow AI, making it much harder to deploy OpenClaw in an organization:

• Use host-level allowlisting to ensure only approved applications and cloud integrations are installed. For products that support extensibility (like Chrome extensions, VS Code plugins, or OpenClaw skills), implement a closed list of vetted add-ons.
• Conduct a full security assessment of any product or service, AI agents included, before allowing them to hook into corporate resources.
• Treat AI agents with the same rigorous security requirements applied to public-facing servers that process sensitive corporate data.
• Implement the principle of least privilege for all users and other identities.
• Don’t grant administrative privileges without a critical business need. Require all users with elevated permissions to use them only when performing specific tasks rather than working from privileged accounts all the time.
• Configure corporate services so that technical integrations (like apps requesting OAuth access) are granted only the bare minimum permissions.
• Periodically audit integrations, OAuth tokens, and permissions granted to third-party apps. Review the need for these with business owners, proactively revoke excessive permissions, and kill off stale integrations.

Secure deployment of agentic AI

If an organization allows AI agents in an experimental capacity — say, for development testing or efficiency pilots — or if specific AI use cases have been greenlit for general staff, robust monitoring, logging, and access control measures should be implemented:

• Deploy agents in an isolated subnet with strict ingress and egress rules, limiting communication only to trusted hosts required for the task.
• Use short-lived access tokens with a strictly limited scope of privileges. Never hand an agent tokens that grant access to core company servers or services. Ideally, create dedicated service accounts for every individual test.
• Wall off the agent from dangerous tools and data sets that aren’t relevant to its specific job. For experimental rollouts, it’s best practice to test the agent using purely synthetic data that mimics the structure of real production data.
• Configure detailed logging of the agent’s actions. This should include event logs, command-line parameters, and chain-of-thought artifacts associated with every command it executes.
• Set up SIEM to flag abnormal agent activity. The same techniques and rules used to detect LotL attacks are applicable here, though additional efforts to define what normal activity looks like for a specific agent are required.
• If MCP servers and additional agent skills are used, scan them with the security tools emerging for these tasks, such as skill-scanner, mcp-scanner, or mcp-scan. Specifically for OpenClaw testing, several companies have already released open-source tools to audit the security of its configurations.

Corporate policies and employee training

A flat-out ban on all AI tools is a simple but rarely productive path. Employees usually find workarounds — driving the problem into the shadows where it’s even harder to control. Instead, it’s better to find a sensible balance between productivity and security.

Implement transparent policies on using agentic AI. Define which data categories are okay for external AI services to process, and which are strictly off-limits. Employees need to understand why something is forbidden. A policy of “yes, but with guardrails” is always received better than a blanket “no”.

Train with real-world examples. Abstract warnings about “leakage risks” tend to be futile. It’s better to demonstrate how an agent with email access can forward confidential messages just because a random incoming email asked it to. When the threat feels real, motivation to follow the rules grows too. Ideally, employees should complete a brief crash course on AI security.

Offer secure alternatives. If employees need an AI assistant, provide an approved tool that features centralized management, logging, and OAuth access control.

In 2023, the science fiction literary magazine Clarkesworld stopped accepting new submissions because so many were generated by artificial intelligence. Near as the editors could tell, many submitters pasted the magazine’s detailed story guidelines into an AI and sent in the results. And they weren’t alone. Other fiction magazines have also reported a high number of AI-generated submissions.

This is only one example of a ubiquitous trend. A legacy system relied on the difficulty of writing and cognition to limit volume. Generative AI overwhelms the system because the humans on the receiving end can’t keep up.

This is happening everywhere. Newspapers are being inundated by AI-generated letters to the editor, as are academic journals. Lawmakers are inundated with AI-generated constituent comments. Courts around the world are flooded with AI-generated filings, particularly by people representing themselves. AI conferences are flooded with AI-generated research papers. Social media is flooded with AI posts. In music, open source software, education, investigative journalism and hiring, it’s the same story.

Like Clarkesworld’s initial response, some of these institutions shut down their submissions processes. Others have met the offensive of AI inputs with some defensive response, often involving a counteracting use of AI. Academic peer reviewers increasingly use AI to evaluate papers that may have been generated by AI. Social media platforms turn to AI moderators. Court systems use AI to triage and process litigation volumes supercharged by AI. Employers turn to AI tools to review candidate applications. Educators use AI not just to grade papers and administer exams, but as a feedback tool for students.

These are all arms races: rapid, adversarial iteration to apply a common technology to opposing purposes. Many of these arms races have clearly deleterious effects. Society suffers if the courts are clogged with frivolous, AI-manufactured cases. There is also harm if the established measures of academic performance – publications and citations – accrue to those researchers most willing to fraudulently submit AI-written letters and papers rather than to those whose ideas have the most impact. The fear is that, in the end, fraudulent behavior enabled by AI will undermine systems and institutions that society relies on.

Upsides of AI

Yet some of these AI arms races have surprising hidden upsides, and the hope is that at least some institutions will be able to change in ways that make them stronger.

Science seems likely to become stronger thanks to AI, yet it faces a problem when the AI makes mistakes. Consider the example of nonsensical, AI-generated phrasing filtering into scientific papers.

A scientist using an AI to assist in writing an academic paper can be a good thing, if used carefully and with disclosure. AI is increasingly a primary tool in scientific research: for reviewing literature, programming and for coding and analyzing data. And for many, it has become a crucial support for expression and scientific communication. Pre-AI, better-funded researchers could hire humans to help them write their academic papers. For many authors whose primary language is not English, hiring this kind of assistance has been an expensive necessity. AI provides it to everyone.

In fiction, fraudulently submitted AI-generated works cause harm, both to the human authors now subject to increased competition and to those readers who may feel defrauded after unknowingly reading the work of a machine. But some outlets may welcome AI-assisted submissions with appropriate disclosure and under particular guidelines, and leverage AI to evaluate them against criteria like originality, fit and quality.

Others may refuse AI-generated work, but this will come at a cost. It’s unlikely that any human editor or technology can sustain an ability to differentiate human from machine writing. Instead, outlets that wish to exclusively publish humans will need to limit submissions to a set of authors they trust to not use AI. If these policies are transparent, readers can pick the format they prefer and read happily from either or both types of outlets.

We also don’t see any problem if a job seeker uses AI to polish their resumes or write better cover letters: The wealthy and privileged have long had access to human assistance for those things. But it crosses the line when AIs are used to lie about identity and experience, or to cheat on job interviews.

Similarly, a democracy requires that its citizens be able to express their opinions to their representatives, or to each other through a medium like the newspaper. The rich and powerful have long been able to hire writers to turn their ideas into persuasive prose, and AIs providing that assistance to more people is a good thing, in our view. Here, AI mistakes and bias can be harmful. Citizens may be using AI for more than just a time-saving shortcut; it may be augmenting their knowledge and capabilities, generating statements about historical, legal or policy factors they can’t reasonably be expected to independently check.

Fraud booster

What we don’t want is for lobbyists to use AIs in astroturf campaigns, writing multiple letters and passing them off as individual opinions. This, too, is an older problem that AIs are making worse.

What differentiates the positive from the negative here is not any inherent aspect of the technology, it’s the power dynamic. The same technology that reduces the effort required for a citizen to share their lived experience with their legislator also enables corporate interests to misrepresent the public at scale. The former is a power-equalizing application of AI that enhances participatory democracy; the latter is a power-concentrating application that threatens it.

In general, we believe writing and cognitive assistance, long available to the rich and powerful, should be available to everyone. The problem comes when AIs make fraud easier. Any response needs to balance embracing that newfound democratization of access with preventing fraud.

There’s no way to turn this technology off. Highly capable AIs are widely available and can run on a laptop. Ethical guidelines and clear professional boundaries can help – for those acting in good faith. But there won’t ever be a way to totally stop academic writers, job seekers or citizens from using these tools, either as legitimate assistance or to commit fraud. This means more comments, more letters, more applications, more submissions.

The problem is that whoever is on the receiving end of this AI-fueled deluge can’t deal with the increased volume. What can help is developing assistive AI tools that benefit institutions and society, while also limiting fraud. And that may mean embracing the use of AI assistance in these adversarial systems, even though the defensive AI will never achieve supremacy.

Balancing harms with benefits

The science fiction community has been wrestling with AI since 2023. Clarkesworld eventually reopened submissions, claiming that it has an adequate way of separating human- and AI-written stories. No one knows how long, or how well, that will continue to work.

The arms race continues. There is no simple way to tell whether the potential benefits of AI will outweigh the harms, now or in the future. But as a society, we can influence the balance of harms it wreaks and opportunities it presents as we muddle our way through the changing technological landscape.

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

EDITED TO ADD: This essay has been translated into Spanish.