cryptonews

Interesting article on the variety of LinkedIn job scams around the world:

In India, tech jobs are used as bait because the industry employs millions of people and offers high-paying roles. In Kenya, the recruitment industry is largely unorganized, so scamsters leverage fake personal referrals. In Mexico, bad actors capitalize on the informal nature of the job economy by advertising fake formal roles that carry a promise of security. In Nigeria, scamsters often manage to get LinkedIn users to share their login credentials with the lure of paid work, preying on their desperation amid an especially acute unemployment crisis.

These are scams involving fraudulent employers convincing prospective employees to send them money for various fees. There is an entirely different set of scams involving fraudulent employees getting hired for remote jobs.

Scammers are generating images of broken merchandise in order to apply for refunds.

Artificial Intelligence (AI) overlords are a common trope in science-fiction dystopias, but the reality looks much more prosaic. The technologies of artificial intelligence are already pervading many aspects of democratic government, affecting our lives in ways both large and small. This has occurred largely without our notice or consent. The result is a government incrementally transformed by AI rather than the singular technological overlord of the big screen.

Let us begin with the executive branch. One of the most important functions of this branch of government is to administer the law, including the human services on which so many Americans rely. Many of these programs have long been operated by a mix of humans and machines, even if not previously using modern AI tools such as Large Language Models.

A salient example is healthcare, where private insurers make widespread use of algorithms to review, approve, and deny coverage, even for recipients of public benefits like Medicare. While Biden-era guidance from the Centers for Medicare and Medicaid Services (CMS) largely blesses this use of AI by Medicare Advantage operators, the practice of overriding the medical care recommendations made by physicians raises profound ethical questions, with life and death implications for about thirty million Americans today.

This April, the Trump administration reversed many administrative guardrails on AI, relieving Medicare Advantage plans from the obligation to avoid AI-enabled patient discrimination. This month, the Trump administration took a step further. CMS rolled out an aggressive new program that financially rewards vendors that leverage AI to reject rapidly prior authorization for "wasteful" physician or provider-requested medical services. The same month, the Trump administration also issued an executive order limiting the abilities of states to put consumer and patient protections around the use of AI.

This shows both growing confidence in AI’s efficiency and a deliberate choice to benefit from it without restricting its possible harms. Critics of the CMS program have characterized it as effectively establishing a bounty on denying care; AI—in this case—is being used to serve a ministerial function in applying that policy. But AI could equally be used to automate a different policy objective, such as minimizing the time required to approve pre-authorizations for necessary services or to minimize the effort required of providers to achieve authorization.

Next up is the judiciary. Setting aside concerns about activist judges and court overreach, jurists are not supposed to decide what law is. The function of judges and courts is to interpret the law written by others. Just as jurists have long turned to dictionaries and expert witnesses for assistance in their interpretation, AI has already emerged as a tool used by judges to infer legislative intent and decide on cases. In 2023, a Colombian judge was the first publicly to use AI to help make a ruling. The first known American federal example came a year later when United States Circuit Judge Kevin Newsom began using AI in his jurisprudence, to provide second "opinions" on the plain language meaning of words in statute. A District of Columbia Court of Appeals similarly used ChatGPT in 2025 to deliver an interpretation of what common knowledge is. And there are more examples from Latin America, the United Kingdom, India, and beyond.

Given that these examples are likely merely the tip of the iceberg, it is also important to remember that any judge can unilaterally choose to consult an AI while drafting his opinions, just as he may choose to consult other human beings, and a judge may be under no obligation to disclose when he does.

This is not necessarily a bad thing. AI has the ability to replace humans but also to augment human capabilities, which may significantly expand human agency. Whether the results are good or otherwise depends on many factors. These include the application and its situation, the characteristics and performance of the AI model, and the characteristics and performance of the humans it augments or replaces. This general model applies to the use of AI in the judiciary.

Each application of AI legitimately needs to be considered in its own context, but certain principles should apply in all uses of AI in democratic contexts. First and foremost, we argue, AI should be applied in ways that decentralize rather than concentrate power. It should be used to empower individual human actors rather than automating the decision-making of a central authority. We are open to independent judges selecting and leveraging AI models as tools in their own jurisprudence, but we remain concerned about Big Tech companies building and operating a dominant AI product that becomes widely used throughout the judiciary.

This principle brings us to the legislature. Policymakers worldwide are already using AI in many aspects of lawmaking. In 2023, the first law written entirely by AI was passed in Brazil. Within a year, the French government had produced its own AI model tailored to help the Parliament with the consideration of amendments. By the end of that year, the use of AI in legislative offices had become widespread enough that twenty percent of state-level staffers in the United States reported using it, and another forty percent were considering it.

These legislative members and staffers, collectively, face a significant choice: to wield AI in a way that concentrates or distributes power. If legislative offices use AI primarily to encode the policy prescriptions of party leadership or powerful interest groups, then they will effectively cede their own power to those central authorities. AI here serves only as a tool enabling that handover.

On the other hand, if legislative offices use AI to amplify their capacity to express and advocate for the policy positions of their principals—the elected representatives—they can strengthen their role in government. Additionally, AI can help them scale their ability to listen to many voices and synthesize input from their constituents, making it a powerful tool for better realizing democracy. We may prefer a legislator who translates his principles into the technical components and legislative language of bills with the aid of a trustworthy AI tool executing under his exclusive control rather than with the aid of lobbyists executing under the control of a corporate patron.

Examples from around the globe demonstrate how legislatures can use AI as tools for tapping into constituent feedback to drive policymaking. The European civic technology organization Make.org is organizing large-scale digital consultations on topics such as European peace and defense. The Scottish Parliament is funding the development of open civic deliberation tools such as Comhairle to help scale civic participation in policymaking. And Japanese Diet member Takahiro Anno and his party Team Mirai are showing how political innovators can build purpose-fit applications of AI to engage with voters.

AI is a power-enhancing technology. Whether it is used by a judge, a legislator, or a government agency, it enhances an entity’s ability to shape the world. This is both its greatest strength and its biggest danger. In the hands of someone who wants more democracy, AI will help that person. In the hands of a society that wants to distribute power, AI can help to execute that. But, in the hands of another person, or another society, bent on centralization, concentration of power, or authoritarianism, it can also be applied toward those ends.

We are not going to be fully governed by AI anytime soon, but we are already being governed with AI—and more is coming. Our challenge in these years is more a social than a technological one: to ensure that those doing the governing are doing so in the service of democracy.

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

New research:

Abstract: Coleoid cephalopods have the most elaborate camouflage system in the animal kingdom. This enables them to hide from or deceive both predators and prey. Most studies have focused on benthic species of octopus and cuttlefish, while studies on squid focused mainly on the chromatophore system for communication. Camouflage adaptations to the substrate while moving has been recently described in the semi-pelagic oval squid (Sepioteuthis lessoniana). Our current study focuses on the same squid’s complex camouflage to substrate in a stationary, motionless position. We observed disruptive, uniform, and mottled chromatic body patterns, and we identified a threshold of contrast between dark and light chromatic components that simplifies the identification of disruptive chromatic body pattern. We found that arm postural components are related to the squid position in the environment, either sitting directly on the substrate or hovering just few centimeters above the substrate. Several of these context-dependent body patterns have not yet been observed in S. lessoniana species complex or other loliginid squids. The remarkable ability of this squid to display camouflage elements similar to those of benthic octopus and cuttlefish species might have convergently evolved in relation to their native coastal habitat.

As usual, you can also use this squid post to talk about the security stories in the news that I haven’t covered.

Blog moderation policy.

Someone hacked an Italian ferry.

It looks like the malware was installed by someone on the ferry, and not remotely.

This is pretty scary:

Urban VPN Proxy targets conversations across ten AI platforms: ChatGPT, Claude, Gemini, Microsoft Copilot, Perplexity, DeepSeek, Grok (xAI), Meta AI.

For each platform, the extension includes a dedicated “executor” script designed to intercept and capture conversations. The harvesting is enabled by default through hardcoded flags in the extension’s configuration.

There is no user-facing toggle to disable this. The only way to stop the data collection is to uninstall the extension entirely.

[…]

The data collection operates independently of the VPN functionality. Whether the VPN is connected or not, the harvesting runs continuously in the background.

[…]

What gets captured:

• Every prompt you send to the AI
  Every response you receive

• Conversation identifiers and timestamps
• Session metadata
• The specific AI platform and model used

Boing Boing post.

News:

The Danish Defence Intelligence Service (DDIS) announced on Thursday that Moscow was behind a cyber-attack on a Danish water utility in 2024 and a series of distributed denial-of-service (DDoS) attacks on Danish websites in the lead-up to the municipal and regional council elections in November.

The first, it said, was carried out by the pro-Russian group known as Z-Pentest and the second by NoName057(16), which has links to the Russian state.

Slashdot thread.

After twenty-six years, Microsoft is finally upgrading the last remaining instance of the encryption algorithm RC4 in Windows.

of the most visible holdouts in supporting RC4 has been Microsoft. Eventually, Microsoft upgraded Active Directory to support the much more secure AES encryption standard. But by default, Windows servers have continued to respond to RC4-based authentication requests and return an RC4-based response. The RC4 fallback has been a favorite weakness hackers have exploited to compromise enterprise networks. Use of RC4 played a key role in last year’s breach of health giant Ascension. The breach caused life-threatening disruptions at 140 hospitals and put the medical records of 5.6 million patients into the hands of the attackers. US Senator Ron Wyden (D-Ore.) in September called on the Federal Trade Commission to investigate Microsoft for “gross cybersecurity negligence,” citing the continued default support for RC4.

Last week, Microsoft said it was finally deprecating RC4 and cited its susceptibility to Kerberoasting, the form of attack, known since 2014, that was the root cause of the initial intrusion into Ascension’s network.

Fun fact: RC4 was a trade secret until I published the algorithm in the second edition of Applied Cryptography in 1995.

Video from Reddit shows what could go wrong when you try to pet a—looks like a Humboldt—squid.

As usual, you can also use this squid post to talk about the security stories in the news that I haven’t covered.

Blog moderation policy.

At least some of this is coming to light:

Doublespeed, a startup backed by Andreessen Horowitz (a16z) that uses a phone farm to manage at least hundreds of AI-generated social media accounts and promote products has been hacked. The hack reveals what products the AI-generated accounts are promoting, often without the required disclosure that these are advertisements, and allowed the hacker to take control of more than 1,000 smartphones that power the company.

The hacker, who asked for anonymity because he feared retaliation from the company, said he reported the vulnerability to Doublespeed on October 31. At the time of writing, the hacker said he still has access to the company’s backend, including the phone farm itself.

Slashdot thread.

I’m sure there’s a story here:

Sources say the man had tailgated his way through to security screening and passed security, meaning he was not detected carrying any banned items.

The man deceived the BA check-in agent by posing as a family member who had their passports and boarding passes inspected in the usual way.

For two days in September, Afghanistan had no internet. No satellite failed; no cable was cut. This was a deliberate outage, mandated by the Taliban government. It followed a more localized shutdown two weeks prior, reportedly instituted “to prevent immoral activities.” No additional explanation was given. The timing couldn’t have been worse: communities still reeling from a major earthquake lost emergency communications, flights were grounded, and banking was interrupted. Afghanistan’s blackout is part of a wider pattern. Just since the end of September, there were also major nationwide internet shutdowns in Tanzania and Cameroon, and significant regional shutdowns in Pakistan and Nigeria. In all cases but one, authorities offered no official justification or acknowledgment, leaving millions unable to access information, contact loved ones, or express themselves through moments of crisis, elections, and protests.

The frequency of deliberate internet shutdowns has skyrocketed since the first notable example in Egypt in 2011. Together with our colleagues at the digital rights organisation Access Now and the #KeepItOn coalition, we’ve tracked 296 deliberate internet shutdowns in 54 countries in 2024, and at least 244 more in 2025 so far.

This is more than an inconvenience. The internet has become an essential piece of infrastructure, affecting how we live, work, and get our information. It’s also a major enabler of human rights, and turning off the internet can worsen or conceal a spectrum of abuses. These shutdowns silence societies, and they’re getting more and more common.

Shutdowns can be local or national, partial or total. In total blackouts, like Afghanistan or Tanzania, nothing works. But shutdowns are often targeted more granularly. Cellphone internet could be blocked, but not broadband. Specific news sites, social media platforms, and messaging systems could be blocked, leaving overall network access unaffected—as when Brazil shut off X (formerly Twitter) in 2024. Sometimes bandwidth is just throttled, making everything slower and unreliable.

Sometimes, internet shutdowns are used in political or military operations. In recent years, Russia and Ukraine have shut off parts of each other’s internet, and Israel has repeatedly shut off Palestinians’ internet in Gaza. Shutdowns of this type happened 25 times in 2024, affecting people in 13 countries.

Reasons for the shutdowns are as varied as the countries that perpetrate them. General information control is just one. Shutdowns often come in response to political unrest, as governments try to prevent people from organizing and getting information; Panama had a regional shutdown this summer in response to protests. Or during elections, as opposition parties utilize the internet to mobilize supporters and communicate strategy. Belarusian president Alyaksandr Lukashenko, who has ruled since 1994, reportedly disabled the internet during elections earlier this year, following a similar move in 2020. But they can also be more banal. Access Now documented countries disabling parts of the internet during student exam periods at least 16 times in 2024, including Algeria, Iraq, Jordan, Kenya, and India.

Iran’s shutdowns in 2022 and June of this year are good examples of a highly sophisticated effort, with layers of shutdowns that end up forcing people off the global internet and onto Iran’s surveilled, censored national intranet. India, meanwhile, has been the world shutdown leader for many years, with 855 distinct incidents. Myanmar is second with 149, followed by Pakistan and then Iran. All of this information is available on Access Now’s digital dashboard, where you can see breakdowns by region, country, type, geographic extent, and time.

There was a slight decline in shutdowns during the early years of the pandemic, but they have increased sharply since then. The reasons are varied, but a lot can be attributed to the rise in protest movements related to economic hardship and corruption, and general democratic backsliding and instability. In many countries today, shutdowns are a knee-jerk response to any form of unrest or protest, no matter how small.

A country’s ability to shut down the internet depends a lot on its infrastructure. In the US, for example, shutdowns would be hard to enforce. As we saw when discussions about a potential TikTok ban ramped up two years ago, the complex and multifaceted nature of our internet makes it very difficult to achieve. However, as we’ve seen with total nationwide shutdowns around the world, the ripple effects in all aspects of life are immense. (Remember the effects of just a small outage—CrowdStrike in 2024—which crippled 8.5 million computers and cancelled 2,200 flights in the US alone?)

The more centralized the internet infrastructure, the easier it is to implement a shutdown. If a country has just one cellphone provider, or only two fiber optic cables connecting the nation to the rest of the world, shutting them down is easy.

Shutdowns are not only more common, but they’ve also become more harmful. Unlike in years past, when the internet was a nice option to have, or perhaps when internet penetration rates were significantly lower across the Global South, today the internet is an essential piece of societal infrastructure for the majority of the world’s population.

Access Now has long maintained that denying people access to the internet is a human rights violation, and has collected harrowing stories from places like Tigray in Ethiopia, Uganda, Annobon in Equatorial Guinea, and Iran. The internet is an essential tool for a spectrum of rights, including freedom of expression and assembly. Shutdowns make documenting ongoing human rights abuses and atrocities more difficult or impossible. They are also impactful on people’s daily lives, business, healthcare, education, finances, security, and safety, depending on the context. Shutdowns in conflict zones are particularly damaging, as they impact the ability of humanitarian actors to deliver aid and make it harder for people to find safe evacuation routes and civilian corridors.

Defenses on the ground are slim. Depending on the country and the type of shutdown, there can be workarounds. Everything, from VPNs to mesh networks to Starlink terminals to foreign SIM cards near borders, has been used with varying degrees of success. The tech-savvy sometimes have other options. But for most everyone in society, no internet means no internet—and all the effects of that loss.

The international community plays an important role in shaping how internet shutdowns are understood and addressed. World bodies have recognized that reliable internet access is an essential service, and could put more pressure on governments to keep the internet on in conflict-affected areas. But while international condemnation has worked in some cases (Mauritius and South Sudan are two recent examples), countries seem to be learning from each other, resulting in both more shutdowns and new countries perpetrating them.

There’s still time to reverse the trend, if that’s what we want to do. Ultimately, the question comes down to whether or not governments will enshrine both a right to access information and freedom of expression in law and in practice. Keeping the internet on is a norm, but the trajectory from a single internet shutdown in 2011 to 2,000 blackouts 15 years later demonstrates how embedded the practice has become. The implications of that shift are still unfolding, but they reach far beyond the moment the screen goes dark.

This essay was written with Zach Rosson, and originally appeared in Gizmodo.

New report: “The Party’s AI: How China’s New AI Systems are Reshaping Human Rights.” From a summary article:

China is already the world’s largest exporter of AI powered surveillance technology; new surveillance technologies and platforms developed in China are also not likely to simply stay there. By exposing the full scope of China’s AI driven control apparatus, this report presents clear, evidence based insights for policymakers, civil society, the media and technology companies seeking to counter the rise of AI enabled repression and human rights violations, and China’s growing efforts to project that repression beyond its borders.

The report focuses on four areas where the CCP has expanded its use of advanced AI systems most rapidly between 2023 and 2025: multimodal censorship of politically sensitive images; AI’s integration into the criminal justice pipeline; the industrialisation of online information control; and the use of AI enabled platforms by Chinese companies operating abroad. Examined together, those cases show how new AI capabilities are being embedded across domains that strengthen the CCP’s ability to shape information, behaviour and economic outcomes at home and overseas.

Because China’s AI ecosystem is evolving rapidly and unevenly across sectors, we have focused on domains where significant changes took place between 2023 and 2025, where new evidence became available, or where human rights risks accelerated. Those areas do not represent the full range of AI applications in China but are the most revealing of how the CCP is integrating AI technologies into its political control apparatus.

News article.

Cast your mind back to May of this year: Congress was in the throes of debate over the massive budget bill. Amidst the many seismic provisions, Senator Ted Cruz dropped a ticking time bomb of tech policy: a ten-year moratorium on the ability of states to regulate artificial intelligence. To many, this was catastrophic. The few massive AI companies seem to be swallowing our economy whole: their energy demands are overriding household needs, their data demands are overriding creators’ copyright, and their products are triggering mass unemployment as well as new types of clinical psychoses. In a moment where Congress is seemingly unable to act to pass any meaningful consumer protections or market regulations, why would we hamstring the one entity evidently capable of doing so—the states? States that have already enacted consumer protections and other AI regulations, like California, and those actively debating them, like Massachusetts, were alarmed. Seventeen Republican governors wrote a letter decrying the idea, and it was ultimately killed in a rare vote of bipartisan near-unanimity.

The idea is back. Before Thanksgiving, a House Republican leader suggested they might slip it into the annual defense spending bill. Then, a draft document leaked outlining the Trump administration’s intent to enforce the state regulatory ban through executive powers. An outpouring of opposition (including from some Republican state leaders) beat back that notion for a few weeks, but on Monday, Trump posted on social media that the promised Executive Order is indeed coming soon. That would put a growing cohort of states, including California and New York, as well as Republican strongholds like Utah and Texas, in jeopardy.

The constellation of motivations behind this proposal is clear: conservative ideology, cash, and China.

The intellectual argument in favor of the moratorium is that “freedom“-killing state regulation on AI would create a patchwork that would be difficult for AI companies to comply with, which would slow the pace of innovation needed to win an AI arms race with China. AI companies and their investors have been aggressively peddling this narrative for years now, and are increasingly backing it with exorbitant lobbying dollars. It’s a handy argument, useful not only to kill regulatory constraints, but also—companies hope—to win federal bailouts and energy subsidies.

Citizens should parse that argument from their own point of view, not Big Tech’s. Preventing states from regulating AI means that those companies get to tell Washington what they want, but your state representatives are powerless to represent your own interests. Which freedom is more important to you: the freedom for a few near-monopolies to profit from AI, or the freedom for you and your neighbors to demand protections from its abuses?

There is an element of this that is more partisan than ideological. Vice President J.D. Vance argued that federal preemption is needed to prevent “progressive” states from controlling AI’s future. This is an indicator of creeping polarization, where Democrats decry the monopolism, bias, and harms attendant to corporate AI and Republicans reflexively take the opposite side. It doesn’t help that some in the parties also have direct financial interests in the AI supply chain.

But this does not need to be a partisan wedge issue: both Democrats and Republicans have strong reasons to support state-level AI legislation. Everyone shares an interest in protecting consumers from harm created by Big Tech companies. In leading the charge to kill Cruz’s initial AI moratorium proposal, Republican Senator Masha Blackburn explained that “This provision could allow Big Tech to continue to exploit kids, creators, and conservatives? we can’t block states from making laws that protect their citizens.” More recently, Florida Governor Ron DeSantis wants to regulate AI in his state.

The often-heard complaint that it is hard to comply with a patchwork of state regulations rings hollow. Pretty much every other consumer-facing industry has managed to deal with local regulation—automobiles, children’s toys, food, and drugs—and those regulations have been effective consumer protections. The AI industry includes some of the most valuable companies globally and has demonstrated the ability to comply with differing regulations around the world, including the EU’s AI and data privacy regulations, substantially more onerous than those so far adopted by US states. If we can’t leverage state regulatory power to shape the AI industry, to what industry could it possibly apply?

The regulatory superpower that states have here is not size and force, but rather speed and locality. We need the “laboratories of democracy” to experiment with different types of regulation that fit the specific needs and interests of their constituents and evolve responsively to the concerns they raise, especially in such a consequential and rapidly changing area such as AI.

We should embrace the ability of regulation to be a driver—not a limiter—of innovation. Regulations don’t restrict companies from building better products or making more profit; they help channel that innovation in specific ways that protect the public interest. Drug safety regulations don’t prevent pharma companies from inventing drugs; they force them to invent drugs that are safe and efficacious. States can direct private innovation to serve the public.

But, most importantly, regulations are needed to prevent the most dangerous impact of AI today: the concentration of power associated with trillion-dollar AI companies and the power-amplifying technologies they are producing. We outline the specific ways that the use of AI in governance can disrupt existing balances of power, and how to steer those applications towards more equitable balances, in our new book, Rewiring Democracy. In the nearly complete absence of Congressional action on AI over the years, it has swept the world’s attention; it has become clear that states are the only effective policy levers we have against that concentration of power.

Instead of impeding states from regulating AI, the federal government should support them to drive AI innovation. If proponents of a moratorium worry that the private sector won’t deliver what they think is needed to compete in the new global economy, then we should engage government to help generate AI innovations that serve the public and solve the problems most important to people. Following the lead of countries like Switzerland, France, and Singapore, the US could invest in developing and deploying AI models designed as public goods: transparent, open, and useful for tasks in public administration and governance.

Maybe you don’t trust the federal government to build or operate an AI tool that acts in the public interest? We don’t either. States are a much better place for this innovation to happen because they are closer to the people, they are charged with delivering most government services, they are better aligned with local political sentiments, and they have achieved greater trust. They’re where we can test, iterate, compare, and contrast regulatory approaches that could inform eventual and better federal policy. And, while the costs of training and operating performance AI tools like large language models have declined precipitously, the federal government can play a valuable role here in funding cash-strapped states to lead this kind of innovation.

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

EDITED TO ADD: Trump signed an executive order banning state-level AI regulations hours after this was published. This is not going to be the last word on the subject.

This is a current list of where and when I am scheduled to speak:

• I’m speaking and signing books at the Chicago Public Library in Chicago, Illinois, USA, at 6:00 PM CT on February 5, 2026. Details to come.
• I’m speaking at Capricon 44 in Chicago, Illinois, USA. The convention runs February 5-8, 2026. My speaking time is TBD.
• I’m speaking at the Munich Cybersecurity Conference in Munich, Germany on February 12, 2026.
• I’m speaking at Tech Live: Cybersecurity in New York City, USA on March 11, 2026.
• I’m giving the Ross Anderson Lecture at the University of Cambridge’s Churchill College on March 19, 2026.
• I’m speaking at RSAC 2026 in San Francisco, California, USA on March 25, 2026.

The list is maintained on this page.

I have no context for this video—it’s from Reddit—but one of the commenters adds some context:

Hey everyone, squid biologist here! Wanted to add some stuff you might find interesting.

With so many people carrying around cameras, we’re getting more videos of giant squid at the surface than in previous decades. We’re also starting to notice a pattern, that around this time of year (peaking in January) we see a bunch of giant squid around Japan. We don’t know why this is happening. Maybe they gather around there to mate or something? who knows! but since so many people have cameras, those one-off monster-story encounters are now caught on video, like this one (which, btw, rips. This squid looks so healthy, it’s awesome).

When we see big (giant or colossal) healthy squid like this, it’s often because a fisher caught something else (either another squid or sometimes an antarctic toothfish). The squid is attracted to whatever was caught and they hop on the hook and go along for the ride when the target species is reeled in. There are a few colossal squid sightings similar to this from the southern ocean (but fewer people are down there, so fewer cameras, fewer videos). On the original instagram video, a bunch of people are like “Put it back! Release him!” etc, but he’s just enjoying dinner (obviously as the squid swims away at the end).

As usual, you can also use this squid post to talk about the security stories in the news that I haven’t covered.

Blog moderation policy.

The promise of personal AI assistants rests on a dangerous assumption: that we can trust systems we haven’t made trustworthy. We can’t. And today’s versions are failing us in predictable ways: pushing us to do things against our own best interests, gaslighting us with doubt about things we are or that we know, and being unable to distinguish between who we are and who we have been. They struggle with incomplete, inaccurate, and partial context: with no standard way to move toward accuracy, no mechanism to correct sources of error, and no accountability when wrong information leads to bad decisions.

These aren’t edge cases. They’re the result of building AI systems without basic integrity controls. We’re in the third leg of data security—the old CIA triad. We’re good at availability and working on confidentiality, but we’ve never properly solved integrity. Now AI personalization has exposed the gap by accelerating the harms.

The scope of the problem is large. A good AI assistant will need to be trained on everything we do and will need access to our most intimate personal interactions. This means an intimacy greater than your relationship with your email provider, your social media account, your cloud storage, or your phone. It requires an AI system that is both discreet and trustworthy when provided with that data. The system needs to be accurate and complete, but it also needs to be able to keep data private: to selectively disclose pieces of it when required, and to keep it secret otherwise. No current AI system is even close to meeting this.

To further development along these lines, I and others have proposed separating users’ personal data stores from the AI systems that will use them. It makes sense; the engineering expertise that designs and develops AI systems is completely orthogonal to the security expertise that ensures the confidentiality and integrity of data. And by separating them, advances in security can proceed independently from advances in AI.

What would this sort of personal data store look like? Confidentiality without integrity gives you access to wrong data. Availability without integrity gives you reliable access to corrupted data. Integrity enables the other two to be meaningful. Here are six requirements. They emerge from treating integrity as the organizing principle of security to make AI trustworthy.

First, it would be broadly accessible as a data repository. We each want this data to include personal data about ourselves, as well as transaction data from our interactions. It would include data we create when interacting with others—emails, texts, social media posts—and revealed preference data as inferred by other systems. Some of it would be raw data, and some of it would be processed data: revealed preferences, conclusions inferred by other systems, maybe even raw weights in a personal LLM.

Second, it would be broadly accessible as a source of data. This data would need to be made accessible to different LLM systems. This can’t be tied to a single AI model. Our AI future will include many different models—some of them chosen by us for particular tasks, and some thrust upon us by others. We would want the ability for any of those models to use our data.

Third, it would need to be able to prove the accuracy of data. Imagine one of these systems being used to negotiate a bank loan, or participate in a first-round job interview with an AI recruiter. In these instances, the other party will want both relevant data and some sort of proof that the data are complete and accurate.

Fourth, it would be under the user’s fine-grained control and audit. This is a deeply detailed personal dossier, and the user would need to have the final say in who could access it, what portions they could access, and under what circumstances. Users would need to be able to grant and revoke this access quickly and easily, and be able to go back in time and see who has accessed it.

Fifth, it would be secure. The attacks against this system are numerous. There are the obvious read attacks, where an adversary attempts to learn a person’s data. And there are also write attacks, where adversaries add to or change a user’s data. Defending against both is critical; this all implies a complex and robust authentication system.

Sixth, and finally, it must be easy to use. If we’re envisioning digital personal assistants for everybody, it can’t require specialized security training to use properly.

I’m not the first to suggest something like this. Researchers have proposed a “Human Context Protocol” (https://papers.ssrn.com/sol3/ papers.cfm?abstract_id=5403981) that would serve as a neutral interface for personal data of this type. And in my capacity at a company called Inrupt, Inc., I have been working on an extension of Tim Berners-Lee’s Solid protocol for distributed data ownership.

The engineering expertise to build AI systems is orthogonal to the security expertise needed to protect personal data. AI companies optimize for model performance, but data security requires cryptographic verification, access control, and auditable systems. Separating the two makes sense; you can’t ignore one or the other.

Fortunately, decoupling personal data stores from AI systems means security can advance independently from performance (https:// ieeexplore.ieee.org/document/ 10352412). When you own and control your data store with high integrity, AI can’t easily manipulate you because you see what data it’s using and can correct it. It can’t easily gaslight you because you control the authoritative record of your context. And you determine which historical data are relevant or obsolete. Making this all work is a challenge, but it’s the only way we can have trustworthy AI assistants.

This essay was originally published in IEEE Security & Privacy.

I have long maintained that smart contracts are a dumb idea: that a human process is actually a security feature.

Here’s some interesting research on training AIs to automatically exploit smart contracts:

AI models are increasingly good at cyber tasks, as we’ve written about before. But what is the economic impact of these capabilities? In a recent MATS and Anthropic Fellows project, our scholars investigated this question by evaluating AI agents’ ability to exploit smart contracts on Smart CONtracts Exploitation benchmark (SCONE-bench)­a new benchmark they built comprising 405 contracts that were actually exploited between 2020 and 2025. On contracts exploited after the latest knowledge cutoffs (June 2025 for Opus 4.5 and March 2025 for other models), Claude Opus 4.5, Claude Sonnet 4.5, and GPT-5 developed exploits collectively worth $4.6 million, establishing a concrete lower bound for the economic harm these capabilities could enable. Going beyond retrospective analysis, we evaluated both Sonnet 4.5 and GPT-5 in simulation against 2,849 recently deployed contracts without any known vulnerabilities. Both agents uncovered two novel zero-day vulnerabilities and produced exploits worth $3,694, with GPT-5 doing so at an API cost of $3,476. This demonstrates as a proof-of-concept that profitable, real-world autonomous exploitation is technically feasible, a finding that underscores the need for proactive adoption of AI for defense.

The FBI is warning of AI-assisted fake kidnapping scams:

Criminal actors typically will contact their victims through text message claiming they have kidnapped their loved one and demand a ransom be paid for their release. Oftentimes, the criminal actor will express significant claims of violence towards the loved one if the ransom is not paid immediately. The criminal actor will then send what appears to be a genuine photo or video of the victim’s loved one, which upon close inspection often reveals inaccuracies when compared to confirmed photos of the loved one. Examples of these inaccuracies include missing tattoos or scars and inaccurate body proportions. Criminal actors will sometimes purposefully send these photos using timed message features to limit the amount of time victims have to analyze the images.

Images, videos, audio: It can all be faked with AI. My guess is that this scam has a low probability of success, so criminals will be figuring out how to automate it.

Two competing arguments are making the rounds. The first is by a neurosurgeon in the New York Times. In an op-ed that honestly sounds like it was paid for by Waymo, the author calls driverless cars a “public health breakthrough”:

In medical research, there’s a practice of ending a study early when the results are too striking to ignore. We stop when there is unexpected harm. We also stop for overwhelming benefit, when a treatment is working so well that it would be unethical to continue giving anyone a placebo. When an intervention works this clearly, you change what you do.

There’s a public health imperative to quickly expand the adoption of autonomous vehicles. More than 39,000 Americans died in motor vehicle crashes last year, more than homicide, plane crashes and natural disasters combined. Crashes are the No. 2 cause of death for children and young adults. But death is only part of the story. These crashes are also the leading cause of spinal cord injury. We surgeons see the aftermath of the 10,000 crash victims who come to emergency rooms every day.

The other is a soon-to-be-published book: Driving Intelligence: The Green Book. The authors, a computer scientist and a management consultant with experience in the industry, make the opposite argument. Here’s one of the authors:

There is something very disturbing going on around trials with autonomous vehicles worldwide, where, sadly, there have now been many deaths and injuries both to other road users and pedestrians. Although I am well aware that there is not, senso stricto, a legal and functional parallel between a “drug trial” and “AV testing,” it seems odd to me that if a trial of a new drug had resulted in so many deaths, it would surely have been halted and major forensic investigations carried out and yet, AV manufacturers continue to test their products on public roads unabated.

I am not convinced that it is good enough to argue from statistics that, to a greater or lesser degree, fatalities and injuries would have occurred anyway had the AVs had been replaced by human-driven cars: a pharmaceutical company, following death or injury, cannot simply sidestep regulations around the trial of, say, a new cancer drug, by arguing that, whilst the trial is underway, people would die from cancer anyway….

Both arguments are compelling, and it’s going to be hard to figure out what public policy should be.

This paper, from 2016, argues that we’re going to need other metrics than side-by-side comparisons: Driving to safety: How many miles of driving would it take to demonstrate autonomous vehicle reliability?“:

Abstract: How safe are autonomous vehicles? The answer is critical for determining how autonomous vehicles may shape motor vehicle safety and public health, and for developing sound policies to govern their deployment. One proposed way to assess safety is to test drive autonomous vehicles in real traffic, observe their performance, and make statistical comparisons to human driver performance. This approach is logical, but it is practical? In this paper, we calculate the number of miles of driving that would be needed to provide clear statistical evidence of autonomous vehicle safety. Given that current traffic fatalities and injuries are rare events compared to vehicle miles traveled, we show that fully autonomous vehicles would have to be driven hundreds of millions of miles and sometimes hundreds of billions of miles to demonstrate their reliability in terms of fatalities and injuries. Under even aggressive testing assumptions, existing fleets would take tens and sometimes hundreds of years to drive these miles—­an impossible proposition if the aim is to demonstrate their performance prior to releasing them on the roads for consumer use. These findings demonstrate that developers of this technology and third-party testers cannot simply drive their way to safety. Instead, they will need to develop innovative methods of demonstrating safety and reliability. And yet, the possibility remains that it will not be possible to establish with certainty the safety of autonomous vehicles. Uncertainty will remain. Therefore, it is imperative that autonomous vehicle regulations are adaptive­—designed from the outset to evolve with the technology so that society can better harness the benefits and manage the risks of these rapidly evolving and potentially transformative technologies.

One problem, of course, is that we treat death by human driver differently than we do death by autonomous computer driver. This is likely to change as we get more experience with AI accidents—and AI-caused deaths.

Here’s a fun paper: “The Naibbe cipher: a substitution cipher that encrypts Latin and Italian as Voynich Manuscript-like ciphertext“:

Abstract: In this article, I investigate the hypothesis that the Voynich Manuscript (MS 408, Yale University Beinecke Library) is compatible with being a ciphertext by attempting to develop a historically plausible cipher that can replicate the manuscript’s unusual properties. The resulting cipher­a verbose homophonic substitution cipher I call the Naibbe cipher­can be done entirely by hand with 15th-century materials, and when it encrypts a wide range of Latin and Italian plaintexts, the resulting ciphertexts remain fully decipherable and also reliably reproduce many key statistical properties of the Voynich Manuscript at once. My results suggest that the so-called “ciphertext hypothesis” for the Voynich Manuscript remains viable, while also placing constraints on plausible substitution cipher structures.

The vampire squid (Vampyroteuthis infernalis) has the largest cephalopod genome ever sequenced: more than 11 billion base pairs. That’s more than twice as large as the biggest squid genomes.

It’s technically not a squid: “The vampire squid is a fascinating twig tenaciously hanging onto the cephalopod family tree. It’s neither a squid nor an octopus (nor a vampire), but rather the last, lone remnant of an ancient lineage whose other members have long since vanished.”

As usual, you can also use this squid post to talk about the security stories in the news that I haven’t covered.

Blog moderation policy.

A new anonymous phone service allows you to sign up with just a zip code.

In his 2020 book, “Future Politics,” British barrister Jamie Susskind wrote that the dominant question of the 20th century was “How much of our collective life should be determined by the state, and what should be left to the market and civil society?” But in the early decades of this century, Susskind suggested that we face a different question: “To what extent should our lives be directed and controlled by powerful digital systems—and on what terms?”

Artificial intelligence (AI) forces us to confront this question. It is a technology that in theory amplifies the power of its users: A manager, marketer, political campaigner, or opinionated internet user can utter a single instruction, and see their message—whatever it is—instantly written, personalized, and propagated via email, text, social, or other channels to thousands of people within their organization, or millions around the world. It also allows us to individualize solicitations for political donations, elaborate a grievance into a well-articulated policy position, or tailor a persuasive argument to an identity group, or even a single person.

But even as it offers endless potential, AI is a technology that—like the state—gives others new powers to control our lives and experiences.

We’ve seen this out play before. Social media companies made the same sorts of promises 20 years ago: instant communication enabling individual connection at massive scale. Fast-forward to today, and the technology that was supposed to give individuals power and influence ended up controlling us. Today social media dominates our time and attention, assaults our mental health, and—together with its Big Tech parent companies—captures an unfathomable fraction of our economy, even as it poses risks to our democracy.

The novelty and potential of social media was as present then as it is for AI now, which should make us wary of its potential harmful consequences for society and democracy. We legitimately fear artificial voices and manufactured reality drowning out real people on the internet: on social media, in chat rooms, everywhere we might try to connect with others.

It doesn’t have to be that way. Alongside these evident risks, AI has legitimate potential to transform both everyday life and democratic governance in positive ways. In our new book, “Rewiring Democracy,” we chronicle examples from around the globe of democracies using AI to make regulatory enforcement more efficient, catch tax cheats, speed up judicial processes, synthesize input from constituents to legislatures, and much more. Because democracies distribute power across institutions and individuals, making the right choices about how to shape AI and its uses requires both clarity and alignment across society.

To that end, we spotlight four pivotal choices facing private and public actors. These choices are similar to those we faced during the advent of social media, and in retrospect we can see that we made the wrong decisions back then. Our collective choices in 2025—choices made by tech CEOs, politicians, and citizens alike—may dictate whether AI is applied to positive and pro-democratic, or harmful and civically destructive, ends.

A Choice for the Executive and the Judiciary: Playing by the Rules

The Federal Election Commission (FEC) calls it fraud when a candidate hires an actor to impersonate their opponent. More recently, they had to decide whether doing the same thing with an AI deepfake makes it okay. (They concluded it does not.) Although in this case the FEC made the right decision, this is just one example of how AIs could skirt laws that govern people.

Likewise, courts are having to decide if and when it is okay for an AI to reuse creative materials without compensation or attribution, which might constitute plagiarism or copyright infringement if carried out by a human. (The court outcomes so far are mixed.) Courts are also adjudicating whether corporations are responsible for upholding promises made by AI customer service representatives. (In the case of Air Canada, the answer was yes, and insurers have started covering the liability.)

Social media companies faced many of the same hazards decades ago and have largely been shielded by the combination of Section 230 of the Communications Act of 1994 and the safe harbor offered by the Digital Millennium Copyright Act of 1998. Even in the absence of congressional action to strengthen or add rigor to this law, the Federal Communications Commission (FCC) and the Supreme Court could take action to enhance its effects and to clarify which humans are responsible when technology is used, in effect, to bypass existing law.

A Choice for Congress: Privacy

As AI-enabled products increasingly ask Americans to share yet more of their personal information—their “context“—to use digital services like personal assistants, safeguarding the interests of the American consumer should be a bipartisan cause in Congress.

It has been nearly 10 years since Europe adopted comprehensive data privacy regulation. Today, American companies exert massive efforts to limit data collection, acquire consent for use of data, and hold it confidential under significant financial penalties—but only for their customers and users in the EU.

Regardless, a decade later the U.S. has still failed to make progress on any serious attempts at comprehensive federal privacy legislation written for the 21st century, and there are precious few data privacy protections that apply to narrow slices of the economy and population. This inaction comes in spite of scandal after scandal regarding Big Tech corporations’ irresponsible and harmful use of our personal data: Oracle’s data profiling, Facebook and Cambridge Analytica, Google ignoring data privacy opt-out requests, and many more.

Privacy is just one side of the obligations AI companies should have with respect to our data; the other side is portability—that is, the ability for individuals to choose to migrate and share their data between consumer tools and technology systems. To the extent that knowing our personal context really does enable better and more personalized AI services, it’s critical that consumers have the ability to extract and migrate their personal context between AI solutions. Consumers should own their own data, and with that ownership should come explicit control over who and what platforms it is shared with, as well as withheld from. Regulators could mandate this interoperability. Otherwise, users are locked in and lack freedom of choice between competing AI solutions—much like the time invested to build a following on a social network has locked many users to those platforms.

A Choice for States: Taxing AI Companies

It has become increasingly clear that social media is not a town square in the utopian sense of an open and protected public forum where political ideas are distributed and debated in good faith. If anything, social media has coarsened and degraded our public discourse. Meanwhile, the sole act of Congress designed to substantially reign in the social and political effects of social media platforms—the TikTok ban, which aimed to protect the American public from Chinese influence and data collection, citing it as a national security threat—is one it seems to no longer even acknowledge.

While Congress has waffled, regulation in the U.S. is happening at the state level. Several states have limited children’s and teens’ access to social media. With Congress having rejected—for now—a threatened federal moratorium on state-level regulation of AI, California passed a new slate of AI regulations after mollifying a lobbying onslaught from industry opponents. Perhaps most interesting, Maryland has recently become the first in the nation to levy taxes on digital advertising platform companies.

States now face a choice of whether to apply a similar reparative tax to AI companies to recapture a fraction of the costs they externalize on the public to fund affected public services. State legislators concerned with the potential loss of jobs, cheating in schools, and harm to those with mental health concerns caused by AI have options to combat it. They could extract the funding needed to mitigate these harms to support public services—strengthening job training programs and public employment, public schools, public health services, even public media and technology.

A Choice for All of Us: What Products Do We Use, and How?

A pivotal moment in the social media timeline occurred in 2006, when Facebook opened its service to the public after years of catering to students of select universities. Millions quickly signed up for a free service where the only source of monetization was the extraction of their attention and personal data.

Today, about half of Americans are daily users of AI, mostly via free products from Facebook’s parent company Meta and a handful of other familiar Big Tech giants and venture-backed tech firms such as Google, Microsoft, OpenAI, and Anthropic—with every incentive to follow the same path as the social platforms.

But now, as then, there are alternatives. Some nonprofit initiatives are building open-source AI tools that have transparent foundations and can be run locally and under users’ control, like AllenAI and EleutherAI. Some governments, like Singapore, Indonesia, and Switzerland, are building public alternatives to corporate AI that don’t suffer from the perverse incentives introduced by the profit motive of private entities.

Just as social media users have faced platform choices with a range of value propositions and ideological valences—as diverse as X, Bluesky, and Mastodon—the same will increasingly be true of AI. Those of us who use AI products in our everyday lives as people, workers, and citizens may not have the same power as judges, lawmakers, and state officials. But we can play a small role in influencing the broader AI ecosystem by demonstrating interest in and usage of these alternatives to Big AI. If you’re a regular user of commercial AI apps, consider trying the free-to-use service for Switzerland’s public Apertus model.

None of these choices are really new. They were all present almost 20 years ago, as social media moved from niche to mainstream. They were all policy debates we did not have, choosing instead to view these technologies through rose-colored glasses. Today, though, we can choose a different path and realize a different future. It is critical that we intentionally navigate a path to a positive future for societal use of AI—before the consolidation of power renders it too late to do so.

This post was written with Nathan E. Sanders, and originally appeared in Lawfare.

This is crazy. Lawmakers in several US states are contemplating banning VPNs, because…think of the children!

As of this writing, Wisconsin lawmakers are escalating their war on privacy by targeting VPNs in the name of “protecting children” in A.B. 105/S.B. 130. It’s an age verification bill that requires all websites distributing material that could conceivably be deemed “sexual content” to both implement an age verification system and also to block the access of users connected via VPN. The bill seeks to broadly expand the definition of materials that are “harmful to minors” beyond the type of speech that states can prohibit minors from accessing­potentially encompassing things like depictions and discussions of human anatomy, sexuality, and reproduction.

The EFF link explains why this is a terrible idea.