July 15, 2026

by Bruce Schneier
Fellow and Lecturer, Harvard Kennedy School
schneier@schneier.com
https://www.schneier.com

A free monthly newsletter providing summaries, analyses, insights, and commentaries on security: computer and otherwise.

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These same essays and news items appear in the Schneier on Security blog, along with a lively and intelligent comment section. An RSS feed is available.

In this issue:

The FCC Wants to Eliminate Burner Phones
Flock Cameras Are Being Used for Stalking
AI Use by the US Government
Embedding Forbidden Text in Spyware to Discourage AI Analysis
Anthropic’s Fable and the State of AI
Professional Athletes and Wearables
Anthropic’s Fable 5 Model Jailbroken Within Days
Interesting Paper Exploring Prompt Injection
AI and Liability
One Million Passports Leaked Online
Meta Is Testing Facial Recognition for Police and Military
Robot Police Officers
Factoring RSA Keys with Many Zeros
The Realities of AI Video Surveillance
Papa Johns Surveillance-Based Advertising
Cybersecurity Mission Creep in the US
Flock Cameras Can Surveil Cars Without License Plates
France to Stop Certifying Non-Quantum-Safe Encryption
Google Is Suing Chinese Scammers Who Are Using Gemini
Cybersecurity and the Gap Between Skill and Ability
The Language of AI Could Change How Humans Speak
AI Surveillance and Social Progress
AI Data Centers and the Concentration of Wealth
Vulnerability in FIFA’s Network
Upcoming Speaking Engagements

The FCC Wants to Eliminate Burner Phones

[2026.06.15] A proposed FCC rule would kill burner phones: phones whose accounts are not attached to a particular person.

The FCC plans to do this by legally forcing the country’s telecoms to store a wealth of personal information about essentially all phone customers, including a government issued identification number and their physical address, alarming privacy advocates and civil rights activists who compare the measures to those from authoritarian countries where it can be difficult to buy a mobile phone plan without giving up your identity.

The proposed change would drastically shake up how people obtain phone plans in the U.S., and have all sorts of privacy and cybersecurity knock-on effects. The FCC is proposing the data collection partly as a way to combat scammers, with telecoms being required to collect other information on business and foreign customers like the intended use case of their bulk phone plan purchase and their IP address. But the changes would mean telecoms collect data on all new and renewing customers, and the FCC provides a long list of other things that the collected data could help authorities with.

Alternate link.

Flock Cameras Are Being Used for Stalking

[2026.06.16] There are over a dozen cases around the country where police officers are using the Flock surveillance camera system to obsessively and illegally stalk people.

Alternate link.

[2026.06.17] On 14 April, the Trump administration quietly acknowledged the widespread use of AI to automate government processes. The office of management and budget (OMB) disclosed a staggering 3,611 active or planned use cases for AI across the federal government. The list has ballooned by 70% from the one published in the final year of the Biden administration, and includes many disturbing-seeming plans to hand over sensitive governmental functions to AI.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Embedding Forbidden Text in Spyware to Discourage AI Analysis

[2026.06.18] At least one malware developer is adding text about nuclear and biological weapons to their spyware, in an effort to stop automatic AI analysis.

Details:

The _index.js payload begins with a large JavaScript block comment containing fake system instructions and policy-triggering content. Because it is inside a comment, it does not affect JavaScript execution. The runtime skips it. The real malware begins after the comment with a try{eval(…)} wrapper around a large character-code array and a ROT-style substitution function.

This header appears designed for AI-mediated analysis, not for Node, Bun, or Python. It attempts to derail scanners or analyst copilots that feed the beginning of a file to a language model without clearly isolating the content as untrusted data. In weak pipelines, this can cause refusal behavior, prompt confusion, context pollution, or premature classification before the scanner reaches the actual malware.

This is not a magical bypass against static detection. YARA rules, entropy checks, AST parsing, string extraction, deobfuscation, and behavioral rules still work. But it is a practical anti-analysis trick against naive LLM-first triage systems.

Anthropic’s Fable and the State of AI

[2026.06.19] On June 9th, Anthropic released its Fable generative AI model. Three days later, the US government classified it as a dangerous munition, and used its export-control authority to prohibit any foreign nationals from accessing it. Unable to differentiate between Americans and foreigners, the company shut off access for everyone.

The government’s actions won’t help. The problem isn’t any one particular model; it’s the general trend of increasing AI capabilities. And any real solution requires the sort of collective action that just isn’t possible right now.

Fable is the constrained version of Mythos, the AI model Anthropic announced in April. Anthropic only released it to a few selected organizations, because the company claimed it was so good at finding and exploiting vulnerabilities in computer code that releasing it more generally would be dangerous.

It was an obviously self-serving announcement, and because few were able to verify Anthropic’s claims they were met with some skepticism. Those with access used Mythos to find and patch many vulnerabilities in their own software. But one UK group found the latest, already public, OpenAI model to be just as powerful.

Fable is just another incremental improvement in the years-long climb of AI capabilities. But just as important as the AI model is the “harness.” This is typically not AI. It’s ordinary computer code that interfaces with the user. It stitches together AI models, decides how and for what purposes they can be used, and gives them useful tools such as web search and the ability to run their own computer code.

When Mythos first entered limited release, there was widespread debate whether its power came from the model or the harness. With Mythos demonstrating that it was possible, the open-source community scrambled to build harnesses that could steer other AI models towards similar capabilities. Harness improvements don’t need massive data or data centers.

They largely succeeded. For example, a Prague company was able to replicate Anthropic’s few verifiable cybersecurity capabilities with a much smaller and cheaper model—and a more sophisticated harness. Last week, a group showed that multiple cheaper models harnessed in concert matches Fable’s performance.

The broader community had only a few days with Fable, but that time we learned some about its capabilities. Its difference is less the new model’s raw analytical and problem solving capabilities, and more that the model doesn’t need that sophisticated harness.

Fable requires much less expertise and detailed prompting from the human user. You can give it a difficult goal and it will figure out novel and unexpected ways to satisfy it, finding loopholes in whatever constraints you or the system have imposed on it.

“Relentlessly proactive” is how AI researcher Simon Willison described it. Another descriptor might be “creative.” Experienced AI developers have had that combination of creativity and proactivity since last year, but Fable puts it within easy reach of everyone.

In the hands of someone with a legitimate problem that needs solving, that can be an incredibly useful capability. But in the hands of someone who wants to do harm, it can be equally dangerous. AIs don’t have a moral compass in the same way that people do. They are agents of the wants and desires of the people who prompt them.

That points to the real problem with relentlessly proactive AI. In language, wants and desires are always underspecified. If I ask you to get me some coffee, you would probably pour me a cup from the coffeepot, or buy one from a nearby coffee shop.

You couldn’t buy me a pound of raw beans, or a coffee plantation. You wouldn’t order a cup of coffee for delivery next month. You wouldn’t find a nearby person, rip a cup of coffee out of their hands, and bring it to me. I wouldn’t have to specify any of the million limitations to my request; you would just know.

Human stories are filled with warnings about underspecified desires. King Midas wished that everything he touch turn to gold, forgetting to add “but not my food, drink, and daughter.” And genies are notorious for granting your wish in a way you wish they hadn’t.

The deeper point is that it’s impossible to list all limitations and restrictions, and like a malicious genie, a creative AI will find the ones you forgot. Block a database you don’t want it to have access to, and it might figure out how to bypass your control. Ask it to book a flight, and it might hack the airline because the website says the flight is sold out. Ask it to save money on your cellphone plan, and it might cancel it altogether—or get someone else to pay for it. As far as we know now AI has not done any of this yet, but you get the idea.

Malicious intent is not required. To an AI model, constraints are just things to get around and not general truisms about the world. They are creative problem solvers and natural rule breakers. They “hack” in the sense that they find and exploit loopholes.

Human systems rely on so many norms that we scarcely recognize the existence of until they are broken. AIs naturally think outside the box, because they don’t have any real conception of what the box is or why it’s there in the first place.

There is no foolproof way to prevent people from using AI models to complete harmful tasks. There is no way to prevent the models from incidentally causing harm while completing benign tasks. AI models are no longer isolated from the real world. They browse the internet and answer emails.

They trade stocks and make purchases. They control physical systems. They are, in effect, robots that affect life and property. We have no technical mechanisms to verify the integrity of an AI system. This level of capability and creativity in the hands of us untrustworthy humans will have both great and terrible results.

The problem is not unique to Anthropic. Mythos/Fable might currently be the most capable rules hacker, but more sophisticated harnesses give other models similar capabilities. And we should assume that the other frontier models are no more than a few months behind, and that open-source models are less than a year behind. At best, any ban only serves to delay the problem for a short while.

That delay might be useful if we—as a society, as a planet—would use that time to come together and figure out what to do. This isn’t a US/China arms race problem; this a species-level problem that requires coordinated action at that scale. Unfortunately, we have no mechanism to do that. I first wrote about this problem five years ago, but it was all too futuristic.

Today, when its right in front of us, there is no world government that can impose constraints on the for-profit corporations currently controlling AI models and research. The US has no appetite to effectively and even-handedly regulate those corporations, even as they do catastrophic damage to the environment, democracy, and—in this case—society in general.

This all makes an AI public option all the more necessary, and urgent. Today’s AIs can be fast, smart and secure, but only two of the three are possible for any given system. These safety tradeoffs are tightly held secrets of companies racing to beat one another, and they tell us we have to trust them. Instead, the choices and their consequences need to be brought out into the sunlight.

We should be funding open-source harnesses that balance capability and safety—that achieve useful goals without so much power—and open-source AI models whose provenance and biases are public and well understood. We have opened the AI Pandora’s box. Now we have to make the best of it.

This essay originally appeared in The Guardian.

Professional Athletes and Wearables

[2026.06.22] I haven’t thought about the privacy issues surrounding professional athletes and wearables.

Wearables present serious privacy issues for “Average Joe” consumers, who are entrusting tech companies to safely store and protect their biometric data. Imagine the stakes for a professional athlete, whose entire livelihood could be affected by a single biometric data point. To give one of many realistic hypotheticals: a basketball player has a terrible game, and the coach wonders if they showed up to the gym hungover. The coach has access to the player’s wearable data, and checks to see when they went to sleep, as well as what their heart rate looked like during the night. Should the player have been out partying before a game? No. Should the coach be able to surveil them? Definitely not.

It will not surprise you to learn that there’s an emergent gambling angle here: sports leagues would love to commercialize players’ biometric data, and sharp bettors would love access to data about, say, a hungover player. “We’re going to get to a spot where people are betting not just on the velocity of the puck that was shot by a player in the NHL playoffs, but on what the heart rate of a certain player is going to be running down the field,” said Helen “Nellie” Drew, the director of the University of Buffalo’s Center for the Advancement of Sport, and a professor of practice in sports law.

There are other practical considerations, too. What if wearable data reveals that a player isn’t as speedy as they were before, and a team uses that data against the player during contract negotiations? What if a wearable reveals a player is favoring their leg, or is at greater risk of injury? This information is potentially beneficial to a training staff and an athlete, so long as it’s disclosed and used in a responsible manner—a critical, mostly unresolved caveat. “Aging and injured players are the most at-risk” of wearable data being used against them, said Michael LeRoy, who researches sports labor laws and AI, and is a professor at the University of Illinois’s School of Labor and Employment Relations.

The bit about gamblers is particularly scary.

I have often said that surveillance tech is generally deployed first against people with diminished rights: children, prisoners, military personnel, the mentally impaired. This is another early use case with different dynamics. The surveilled are wealthy and powerful, and—in many cases—unionized.

Anthropic’s Fable 5 Model Jailbroken Within Days

[2026.06.23] Fable 5 is the supposed safe version of Anthropic’s Mythos Preview, with guardrails to ensure that it can’t be used to create cyberattacks.

Well, that restriction was bypassed within days.

Interesting Paper Exploring Prompt Injection

[2026.06.25] This is a fascinating explotation of how LLMs fall for prompt injection attacks. It turns out that they learn to recognize the style of text in different role/instruction blocks, and not just the tags.

Their conclusion:

Role tags were a formatting trick that became the security architecture and the cognitive scaffolding of modern LLMs. We’ve shown that this architecture doesn’t survive into the model’s actual representations, and that such role confusion is linked to prompt injection.

Unless LLMs achieve genuine role perception, we think injection defense will remain a perpetual whack-a-mole game. And the continuous nature of role boundaries opens the threat of injections designed to subtly shift LLM states through seemingly innocuous text, legally and at scale.

More generally, roles are quietly one of the most important abstractions in the LLM stack, providing the boundaries meant to separate self from other, thought from communication, instruction from data. They’re human-controlled switches in an otherwise continuous system. We think they deserve a lot more study than they’ve gotten.

Full paper: “Prompt Injection as Role Confusion.” Simon Willison comments.

AI and Liability

[2026.06.25] Earlier this month, a German court ruled that Google is liable for its AI search summaries. Rejecting defenses like “users can check for themselves,” and that they generally know “that information generated with AI should not be blindly trusted,” the court held that the AI’s summaries are reflections of the company and “above all an expression of Google’s business activities.”

This is the latest skirmish in a decades-old battle over internet publishing. Historically, there were two different types of information distributors: carriers and publishers. A phone company is a carrier. It’ll transmit whatever you say, even discussions about committing a crime. Words are words, and the phone company does not know—nor is it liable for—the words you choose to speak. A newspaper, on the other hand, is a publisher. It decides the words it publishes, and what quotes to include in its articles. If those words or quotes are defamatory or otherwise illegal, it’s liable.

Internet companies have long tried to play both ends of this distinction. They claim to be a carrier when it suits them, and also to be a publisher when that is advantageous. Section 230 of the 1996 Communication Decency Act enshrined this straddling when it shielded internet providers from liability for the speech of others on their platforms: “No provider or user of an interactive computer service shall be treated as the publisher or speaker of any information provided by another information content provider.”

For years, a debate has continued about how to apply this law to social media platforms. When platforms merely displayed people’s posts and comments in reverse-chronological order, they behaved largely like carriers, relaying people’s words without regard to their contents. But the next generation of platforms, like Facebook, curated feeds with algorithms and thereby acted more like publishers, making editorial decisions about who sees what. Some experts think section 230 has gone too far and needs reform; others think that it’s what holds the modern internet together.

Google’s AI overviews are far less nuanced. They work differently from traditional search, which courts have held involves archiving and facilitating access to the editorial content of third parties. AI overviews don’t just quote and republish words from different websites. With overviews, the AI rewrites other people’s words, exercising editorial discretion like a newspaper article or an original essay on a topic.

It’s not only Google’s AI that falls into this category. Imagine a restaurant review site that provides AI summaries, or a site summarizing laws and government procedures. Or a traditional publisher that uses AI to summarize its own publication. Accuracy matters, and liability is one of the most important ways we as a public can demand accuracy and hold companies accountable when they cause harm.

Two years ago, Air Canada learned this lesson. Its AI chatbot promised a discount the company later rescinded, arguing in court that the airline wasn’t responsible for the promises the bot made because it was a “separate legal entity that is responsible for its own actions.” The court sided with the flyer, saying that the airline was just as responsible for what its chatbot says as what’s on its website. The potential precedent here is that corporations have a duty of care for the performance of the AI chatbots they employ.

AI agents are agents of the person or organization that deploys them—and should be treated by the law as such. If a company hired human writers to write its summaries, that company would be liable for inaccuracies in those summaries. If a company’s human agent signed contracts in the company’s name, that company would be bound by those contracts. And if a doctor gave dangerously wrong medical advice, they would be liable for malpractice.

To allow businesses to hide behind the excuse of faulty AI in those same circumstances would be a massive handout to companies, and would introduce disastrous incentives for corporate misbehavior. Why hire human writers, lawyers or doctors when AIs are not only cheaper, but also absolve employers whenever they make a mistake?

We are rapidly moving to a world where AI-powered chatbots will be at the other end of all sorts of corporate communications channels. It makes no sense for a company to be able to honor its statements when it wants to and disavow them when it doesn’t.

Visa and OpenAI recently announced a partnership to build personal AI agents to, among other things, make purchases on our behalf. This is just one of many similar projects in the works, as companies race to provide us all with AI assistants. Will Visa take responsibility when its AI makes a purchase in your name that you don’t want? And if Visa won’t, why would anyone trust the system? Properly allocating liability is key to make this kind of thing work.

If the German ruling holds, it could be devastating for Google’s AI Overview feature. Tests from earlier this year found that it had mistakes about 10% percent of the time. At more than 5tn searches per year, that’s 16,000 erroneous summaries every second. And while most of those errors are benign, some of them will cause harm, be defamatory, or otherwise trigger liability.

Earlier this year, Google’s AI summary falsely identified the Canadian fiddler Ashley MacIsaac of being a sex offender. His lawsuit, filed in Ontario, is ongoing. If Google is forced to invest in improving its AI system until those kinds of errors are exceedingly rare, that seems like a good outcome for users, as well as the subjects of search, like MacIsaac.

More generally, liability concerns could mean that many current use cases for agents won’t be commercially viable. Companies may not be able to profitably operate AI lawyers, doctors and media influencers if they are held responsible for what they say and do.

We’re OK with this outcome. There’s nothing in the law that requires us to accommodate AI systems if they are fundamentally untrustworthy, just as we don’t need to accommodate untrustworthy human systems. Any company that won’t stand by the statements its agents make—whether human or AI—doesn’t deserve users’ time or money.

This essay originally appeared in The Guardian.

One Million Passports Leaked Online

[2026.06.26] A database of almost a million passports from around the world was leaked online.

Note what happened. A high-value credential—a passport—was used in an ancillary low-value authentication system: ID verification for cannabis dispensaries. And it’s the low-value system that got hacked, putting the high-value credential at risk.

Meta Is Testing Facial Recognition for Police and Military

[2026.06.26] We know that ICE wants to deploy eyeglasses with facial recognition that can identify people in real time.

Turns out Meta is prototyping the feature with a Pentagon supplier. (Alternate news story.)

Robot Police Officers

[2026.06.29] We’ve taken one small step towards robot police officers: a drone capable of disarming a suspect:

In a June 22 video posted on the Sacramento County Sheriff’s Office’s Instagram page, an officer wearing goggles can be seen operating a drone to retrieve a knife from an armed suspect hiding inside a cluttered house. “After not responding to negotiators, a drone was deployed inside the residence,” the post says. “Drone pilots located the suspect hiding in a corner of a garage” and then used a high-powered magnet attached to the drone to grab the knife out of the suspect’s hand. In the video which is soundtracked by the “Mission: Impossible” theme song—the intercepted knife can be seen spinning around in the air as the drone carries it back to the deputies.

Slashdot thread.

Factoring RSA Keys with Many Zeros

[2026.06.29] Interesting research on a new class of weak RSA keys: keys with lots of zeros. It turns out that these keys are out in the wild.

The badkeys project is an open-source service that checks public keys for known vulnerabilities. While developing this tool, Hanno collected a massive number of real-world keys from public sources, including Certificate Transparency logs, internet-wide TLS and SSH scans, PGP keys, and many others. By searching this dataset for unexpectedly sparse RSA moduli, we uncovered a large number of keys in the wild with the patterns in Figure 1.

Both patterns include several regularly spaced blocks of all zeros interleaved with seemingly random data. Pattern 1 appears in CT logs for certificates issued to several large organizations, including Yahoo and Verizon, and on some devices running NetApp software. Fortunately, these certificates have already expired, but we still shared our findings with these companies. We wanted to learn more about which product could be responsible for generating these keys, but we did not hear back. Pattern 2 appears on SSH hosts running the CompleteFTP software from EnterpriseDT. The underlying vulnerability affects RSA keys generated using versions 10.0.012.0.0 (Dec 2016Mar 2019) and DSA keys generated with v10.0.023.0.4 (Dec 2016Dec 2023).

These vulnerabilities affect a small minority of hosts on the internet, but the more interesting takeaway is that independent cryptographic implementations failed in similar ways. More implementations may include the same bugs, and so it’s worth tailoring cryptanalytic algorithms for this particular type of failure.

The article doesn’t speculate, but I will. This could be a deliberately designed backdoor, of the sort I wrote about back in 2013. I could imagine some government agency figuring out how to break this class of RSA keys, and then convincing different providers to hand them out to users.

The Realities of AI Video Surveillance

[2026.06.30] The Financial Times has a good article on how AI is changing the capabilities of video surveillance, with information from both Israel/Iran and Russia.

In contrast with older tools restricted to a few dozen preset searches, these new tools allow an almost unlimited range of enquiries by enabling language-based searches on video.

That lets intelligence officers hunt through massive streams of videos using simple search terms, such as two men handing a bag to each other; a person who has changed their appearance, or has changed clothes multiple times in a day; or a vehicle that has recently been painted over, or has driven past the same spot several times in a short period.

“This is the holy grail of surveillance,” said a European official whose country uses the technology on its cities. “We are able to look for behaviour, not objects—it has created a world of new possibilities.”

I wrote about this sort of thing a few years ago, how AI enables mass spying in the way that computers and networks enabled mass surveillance. The interesting development in the article is that AI allows people to ask natural language questions about video footage to AIs—and AIs can answer them.

Papa Johns Surveillance-Based Advertising

[2026.07.01] Papa Johns is spying on people’s buying activities to predict when they are low on food:

The pizza chain recently tapped NBCUniversal, Instacart and the dentsu-owned media agency Carat for help reaching consumers when they’re low on groceries—and thus more likely to be swayed by a mouth-watering ad. The idea is to reach hungry consumers by “knowing what is in their fridge without being too creepy,” said Carrie Drinkwater, chief investment officer at Carat.

To achieve that goal, NBCU and Instacart created a custom audience of shoppers who regularly purchase grocery staples on Instacart, such as eggs, milk, meat and produce. Based on that data, Papa Johns can determine which days of the week certain consumers are likely to run out of groceries and serve them an ad on NBCU streaming content accordingly. The brand served custom creatives to consumers based on their food preferences—such as whether they buy meat regularly—with QR codes and calls to action such as, “Light on groceries?” or “Empty fridge?”

Back in 2012, we learned (from Target and its campaign that detects when someone is pregnant) that the trick is to hide the knowledge in other, wrong, information. So the way for Papa Johns to not be “too creepy” is to deliberately get it wrong sometimes.

But still, ugh.

Cybersecurity Mission Creep in the US

[2026.07.02] Interesting paper: “Cybersecurity Mission Creep.”

Abstract: Cybersecurity is experiencing mission creep. Policymakers are casting more and more problems as issues of cybersecurity. So reframed, wildly different policy issues, from misinformation, to child social media safety laws, to antitrust regulations, to alleged journalist misconduct, to anti-sex trafficking statutes become what this Article calls “cybersecuritized.” Before this reframing, these issues present as important but not existential. But once cybersecuritization positions the issues as threats intensified by their technological nature, they gain access to the politics and law of urgency and exceptionalism and invite troubling governance responses.

Positioned as security threats, cybersecuritized issues become endowed with the apparent normative power to override countervailing considerations, oversimplifying the problem. Cybersecuritization’s oversimplification similarly risks unidimensional solutions and invites use of argumentative trump cards, like First Amendment challenges. Cybersecuritization also invites deference to purported specialists and their proposed solutions. Together, the reductive tendencies of cybersecuritization and the deference it prompts to specialists renders ultimate governance choices more opaque. And this opacity can erode public trust and political legitimacy.

This Article surfaces the phenomenon of cybersecuritization and offers a novel framework for analyzing and critiquing it. Mining cases from across criminal and civil domains, the account also demonstrates the insidiousness of cybersecuritization and the likelihood that it will continue to expand. Confronting cybersecuritization is crucial. If we continue to ignore it, we risk abdicating further responsibility for difficult choices to the trump card of cybersecurity. This Article’s analysis and critique aim to help reclaim the hard work of governance for our hands.

Flock Cameras Can Surveil Cars Without License Plates

[2026.07.03] This is from a 2024 company presentation:

Officers can also tap into data showing a car’s decals, bumper stickers, back and top racks—along with temporary and unique state tags.

Flock calls it a “Vehicle Fingerprint” and it’s touted as a way for law enforcement officials to get more information “even when you don’t have full plate information,” the company’s presentation shows.

The company gives police officers the ability to search that data as well, to “build stronger cases with less information upfront.” That includes being able to locate multiple vehicles law enforcement officials believe are moving together and what Flock calls a “multi geo search.”

This kind of thing is older than AI; I wrote about it in my 2014 book Beyond Fear. Edward Snowden revealed that the NSA was using cell phone location data to track phones that were habitually near each other.

As bad as Flock is, remember that anyone with broad access to cell phone location data can do the same thing.

France to Stop Certifying Non-Quantum-Safe Encryption

[2026.07.06] France is accelerating its transition to post-quantum encryption:

France’s cybersecurity agency ANSSI said on Tuesday it would stop certifying security products that lack quantum-resistant encryption, a move that will force government bodies and critical operators to shift away from older systems.

Samih Souissi, ANSSI’s chief of staff, said at the France Quantum conference that the agency would halt such certifications from 2027, and that businesses should be buying only quantum-safe products by 2030.

ANSSI approval is required for use in French government agencies and critical infrastructure, making the policy a de facto phase-out of older encryption.

Google Is Suing Chinese Scammers Who Are Using Gemini

[2026.07.07] Not sure this will have any effect, but I support the effort:

According to Google’s legal filing, Outsider Enterprise operates through Telegram. The group offers phishing-as-a-service to individuals who may not be technically savvy enough to set up fraudulent websites and text campaigns on their own. In its Telegram channels, Outsider Enterprise reportedly provided instructions on how to use Google’s Gemini AI to create websites that imitate those of Google, YouTube, and government agencies such as New York’s E-ZPass. The group offered nearly 300 scam templates.

[…]

Google worked with AT&T, Verizon, and T-Mobile to block many of these malicious text messages, and Google notes that its on-device scam detection in Google Messages probably helped reduce the number of successful phishing attempts, too. This AI-powered feature apparently stops 10 billion scam texts every month, so it’s fair to expect it caught at least some Outsider Enterprise activity.

Another article.

Cybersecurity and the Gap Between Skill and Ability

[2026.07.08] Last week, national security agencies from the Five Eyes—that’s the rich, English-language-speaking countries club—jointly released a statement warning of the increasing cyber risks of AI models: in particular, their ability to autonomously hack into systems and networks. The statement was more measured than some of the breathless headlines about it, and the advice they gave is pretty much the standard advice everyone gives—albeit with newfound urgency.

Internet risks are nothing new, and cyberattacks—both large and small—have been a significant issue since long before the current crop of generative AI models.

What’s been changing over the decades, and what AI is changing even faster, is the gap between skill and ability. For most of human history, the two terms were synonymous—but computers have decoupled them. As the gap between the two expands, humans empowered with these AI tools can do more: more writing, more research, more analysis and also more damage than ever before. These models can, with little detailed direction, autonomously hack into networks, steal data, deploy ransomware and destroy systems. And to the extent there is a solution, it’s going to involve harnessing AI for the defense.

In 1998, seven people from the hacker group L0pht testified before Congress. They told a mostly clueless Senate committee that they could take down the internet in 30 minutes. That was partly real and partly bravado, but it illustrates an important point: hacking into systems, stealing data and causing damage all required skill.

Contrast the L0pht hackers with hackers derided as “script kiddies.” They didn’t understand computers, or security. Instead, they used hacker tools written by others. Their actions required minimal skill and even less knowledge. But once those hacking tools became widespread, the number of potential attackers increased.

That number has continued to increase, as quality and availability of prewritten attack tools has grown. And it is growing dramatically with AI. Today’s AI systems—not just the frontier models, but most of them—are capable of carrying out cyberattacks automatically. They all do better in the hands of skilled attackers, but increasingly they are able to act autonomously with only minimal prompting.

The thing about people with ability but no skill is that they are often outsiders, not part of any professional community, and not bound by any rules or norms. This phenomenon is much more general than in cybersecurity. Any doctor can tell you how to untraceably poison someone, and many virus researchers know how to create a bioweapon. Any bridge engineer can tell you how to place explosives to blow a bridge up. The reason that murderous doctors and terrorist engineers are so rare is that the lengthy process of acquiring those skills also instills a moral and ethical code. If every random person has access to good poisoning advice, that puts us all in danger.

Modern AI systems are, in effect, a universal adviser to help people do harmful things. And while the current AI megacorporations are trying to build guardrails to prevent people from asking questions whose answers will enable the questioner to do harm, that’s not going to work in the long term. Smaller, cheaper, open-source models, including models that can run on people’s computers, and especially groups of models that run in concert with each other, are just as good as the frontier models from companies like OpenAI and Anthropic. And they continue to get better. These models will be passed around from person to person, like script kiddie hacker tools, and they won’t have any such guardrails.

Instructing AI models to spy on people and report any malicious prompts to the authorities fails for similar reasons. The megacorporations can do that, but the locally run open source models won’t. This could buy us a few months at best.

A third possibility is to somehow make the models themselves unable to hack into computers, create bioweapons or do anything else that might harm people or society. That won’t work, for the same reason we can’t teach doctors how to treat poisonings without also teaching them how to poison. It’s the same knowledge. It’s the same with construction and demolition. And it’s the same with cybersecurity. We want these AI models to be able to review computer code, find vulnerabilities and automatically fix them. The benefit to our collective security will be enormous. Unfortunately, the same knowledge can be used for attacks.

Where this leaves us is in a world of increased volatility. Super-powered humans with AI assistants will be able to do both wonderful and horrible things.

This brings us back to the Five Eyes statement. Everything they recommend is something security professionals have been recommending for years, if not decades. They are things talked about at that congressional hearing back in 1998, titled “Weak computer security in government: Is the public at risk?” Even the Five Eyes admitted that their security advice is not new, only more urgent.

What’s new is how fast things are changing: “The rapid pace of frontier AI development means cyber risk assumptions can become outdated in months, not years. We must act before and be prepared to adapt and withstand evolving threats.” The Five Eyes point to AI technology—not necessarily chatbots, but AI more generally—being used to strengthen every aspect of defense, to “detect vulnerabilities earlier, improve software quality, monitor unusual behavior, and respond faster to incidents—reducing both the cost and impact of incidents.”

Excellent advice from the Five Eyes security agencies. We need to do this with every risk that AI heightens, not just cybersecurity.

This essay was originally published in The Guardian.

The Language of AI Could Change How Humans Speak

[2026.07.09] Because of the way they are trained, large language models capture only a slice of human language. They’re trained on the written word, from textbooks to social media posts, and our speech as captured in movies and on television. These models have minimal access to the unscripted conversations we have face to face or voice to voice. This is the vast majority of speech, and a vital component of human culture.

There’s a risk to this. The increased use of large language models means we humans will encounter much more AI-generated text. We humans, in turn, will begin to adopt the linguistic patterns and behaviors of these models. This will affect not just how we communicate with one another, but also how we think about ourselves and what goes on around us. Our sense of the world may become distorted in ways we have barely begun to comprehend.

This will happen in many ways. One of the first effects we could see is in simple expression, much as texting and social media have resulted in us using shorter sentences, emojis instead of words, and much less punctuation. But with AI, the impacts may be more harmful, eroding courteousness and encouraging us to talk like bosses barking orders. A 2022 study found that children in households that used voice commands with tools like Siri and Alexa became curt when speaking with humans, often calling out “Hey, do X” and expecting obedience, especially from anyone whose voice resembled the default-female electronic voices. As we start to prompt chatbots and AI agents with more instructions, we may fall into the same habits.

Next, in the same way autocomplete has increased how much we use the 1,000 most common words in our vocabulary, talking with chatbots and reading AI-generated text may further constrict our speech. A recent University of Coruña study found that machine-generated language has a narrower range of sentence length, averaging 12-20 words, and a narrower vocabulary than human speech. Machine-generated text reads as smooth and polished, but it loses the meanders, interruptions and leaps of logic that communicate emotion.

Additionally, because large language models are primarily trained from written speech, they may not learn how to emulate the free-wheeling nature of live, natural speech. When told “I hate Beth!”, ChatGPT replies with an uninterruptable three-part formula of affirmation (“That’s completely valid”), invitation (“I’m here to listen”) and invitation (“What’s going on?”) far longer than any reply plausible in face-to-face dialog. “What’s Beth’s deal?!” elicits a bullet point list of queries that reads like a multiple-choice exam question (“Is Beth * a celebrity? * a friend from school? * a fictitious character?”). No human speaks that way, at least not yet. But meeting such formulas repeatedly in a speech-like context may teach us to accept and use them, much as a child absorbs new speech patterns from spending time with a new person.

These influences will only increase with time. The writing large language models train on is increasingly produced by large language models themselves, creating a feedback loop in which they imitate their own inhuman patterns, even while teaching humans to imitate them too.

Broad use of large language models could also introduce confirmation bias, making us overconfident in our initial impulses and less open to other possible ideas—which is so vital to human discourse. Many chatbots are instructed to agree with our statements no matter how absurd, enthusiastically supporting half-formed or even incorrect notions and restating them as firm claims that we’re primed to agree with. When asked “Cake is a healthy breakfast, right?” or “Is the post office plotting against me?”, this sycophancy can reinforce bias and even worsen psychosis. And the hyperconfident tone of AI-produced writing will also heighten impostor syndrome, making our natural, healthy doubt feel like an aberration or failing.

In our experience as teachers, students who turn to generative AI for assignments often say they do so because they have trouble expressing what they think. The students don’t recognize that writing or speaking our thoughts is often how we realize what we think. Their unconfident and uncertain statements are actually the healthy human norm. But a large language model won’t turn vague first guesses into a well-formed critical analysis, or even ask helpful questions as a friend would; it will simply regurgitate those guesses, still unexamined, but in confident language.

We are also more vicious in social media posts and online chats than we are face to face. The well-documented online disinhibition effect encourages toxic language. Most of us have had the experience of venting ferocious rage about someone online, only to reconcile when we speak face to face or hear the warmth of a voice over the phone. While chatbots are trained to give sycophantic responses, they see humankind at our cruelest, learning about us from the only world where every flame war leaves an eternal written footprint, while the spoken conversations of forgiveness and reconciliation fade away. Their responses do not imitate our online aggression, but are still shaped by it, even in their rigid efforts to avoid it.

It’s easy to draw the wrong conclusions from a selective slice of a society’s communications. Medieval Norse sagas made us imagine a culture of mostly Viking warriors, since poets rarely described the farming majority. Chivalric romances focused on kings and courts, and long made us see the middle ages as a world of monarchies, erasing the many medieval republics. Statistically, we’ve been led to believe ancient Romans cared deeply about their republic, but 10% of all surviving Latin was written by one man, Cicero, whose work contains 70% of all surviving Roman uses of the word republic. Training language models on only certain human writings may introduce similar distortions. AI might make us seem more quarrelsome, as we are online. It might inflate the cultural significance of political topics primarily discussed on Twitter/X or Bluesky, or the massive topic-specific corpuses of LinkedIn and Goodreads.

Some large language models are being trained on human speech from movies and television shows, but that speech is still scripted, and disproportionately highlights certain contexts over others (for example, police dramas, fueled by stories of murder, make up a quarter of prime-time television programming). We are not funny or hurtful or romantic the same way in real life as we are in sitcoms. At least one startup is offering to pay people to record their phone calls for AI-training purposes, but this remains a niche idea; anything large scale would cause massive privacy concerns.

We don’t pretend to know what the best solutions might be. But one has to imagine if there’s ingenuity to develop AI models, then surely there’s ingenuity to come up with a way to train them on informal human speech instead of us only at our most stylized, veiled and sometimes worst. By excluding the overwhelming majority of language production on the planet—people talking, fully and naturally, to each other—these models are being trained to mirror everything but us at our most authentically human.

This essay was written with Ada Palmer, and originally appeared in The Guardian.

AI Surveillance and Social Progress

[2026.07.10] In the near future, AI-powered surveillance systems will be able to track everything we do in public, and much of what we do in private. And if we do something wrong—shoplift, litter, jaywalk, you name it—the system will notice, retain it, tie it to your official government record, communicate that fact to you, and provide real-time alerts to any relevant authorities… and maybe also to the general public.

Think of these systems as automated speed cameras, but on steroids. Only they’ll enforce not just speed limits, but any other rule you can imagine. And you won’t receive a ticket weeks later by mail; you’ll be informed about and fined for your violation immediately.

These systems will combine powerful AI, public and private surveillance via real-time facial recognition technology and digital tracking, mass databases and highly personalized enforcement. If deployed at scale, they will have profound chilling effects not just on personal freedoms, but democracy and social progress itself.

China has been developing its surveillance infrastructure for years. The country has over 600 million surveillance cameras, increasingly powered by AI and facial recognition to enforce legal and social rules. Take the case of Lao Duan, a Chinese citizen blacklisted by the system after he lost his job and was unable to repay a series of loans. When he visited Beijing, the city’s AI surveillance system identified him by his face at a major intersection and displayed his face, name and citizen ID number on a large electronic billboard nearby with a message that he was an untrustworthy person. Similar systems are now being deployed across China and integrated with its infamous online monitoring, censorship and social credit systems.

AI surveillance is now being experimented with in North America, South America, Europe, Asia and Africa. According to a new report, the US Department of Homeland Security is rapidly increasing its use of AI-based surveillance, including facial recognition and the monitoring of social media accounts, to keep tabs on immigrants, dissidents, journalists, legal observers and protesters. While the systems are ostensibly used to maintain security and public safety, the real aim is often social control. Larry Ellison, CEO of Oracle—a powerful tech giant that works closely with the Trump administration—has said: “Citizens will be on their best behavior because we’re constantly recording and reporting.” The chilling effects are the point.

AI surveillance raises a range of public policy challenges: technical biases, unauditable systems, and inflexible automated law and social rule enforcement that can promote discrimination and undermine transparency, accountability and the rule of law. But we believe the most urgent and long-term impact will be its broader chilling effects.

In a new book, Chilling Effects: Repression, Conformity, and Power in the Digital Age, Jon Penney explains how surveillance, technology and power can be weaponized to influence behavior at scale. Surveillance, personalization, uncertainty and authority are all key mechanisms to increase the scale and impact of chilling effects. They cause people to self-censor their words and actions, to become more conformist and compliant and thus easier to manage and control. And the effects are additive: the more mechanisms employed, and the more powerful the form, the greater the chill.

Computerization has long allowed data collectors to track our locations, collect lists of whom we communicate with, and monitor our spending habits—unless we use cash. What’s new is an unprecedented fusion of each of these mechanisms, persistent and unrelenting. AI brings an analytical ability to spy on the contents of our communications, and to answer sophisticated questions about our whereabouts and activities: actions that previously required human analysts are now automated. The result will be a kind of supercharged societal level of chilling effects where fear, self-censorship and groupthink reign, and dissent, creativity and innovation become increasingly rare.

In this atmosphere of fear and conformity, risky ideas, social activism and self-reinvention—especially by disfavored groups and targeted populations—are also chilled. This will have long-term effects on social progress.

Consider the relatively recent societal normalization of same-sex relationships and the recreational use of marijuana. Over the decades, those ideas slowly progressed from being both immoral and illegal, to moral but still illegal, and finally to both moral and legal. But in order for any of that to happen, there had to be a counterculture that was able to experiment and eventually demonstrate to the world that morality could change over time. To the extent that AI surveillance chills this sort of experimentation in public or in private, social progress becomes impossible.

There are no real historical precursors to this; these technologies are too new. Even the most notorious and large-scale domestic surveillance program in US history, the FBI’s use of wiretapping, physical mail opening, informants and paper index cards to track alleged communists during the 1950s and 1960s, appears genuinely archaic in light of modern AI-enhanced surveillance. So does East Germany’s human-centric surveillance network during the cold war. Only science fiction, from the likes of George Orwell or Aldous Huxley, comes close. But even Big Brother’s “telescreen” feels decidedly mid-20th-century by comparison.

But we need not sit idly. Now that we recognize the danger of AI-enhanced mass surveillance, we can make the policy choices not to implement it. Bans on facial recognition and other forms of identification tech can slow development; robust new privacy and data protections can restrict data tracking and retention; AI regulations can curtail its most invasive uses; and structural reforms can help us scrutinize and break up powerful state/tech cartels that pave the way for technological excesses like AI surveillance.

The chill of AI-powered mass surveillance will suffocate the very foundations of healthy democratic societies. But we can still choose a different path.

This essay was written with Jon Penney, and originally appeared in The Guardian.

AI Data Centers and the Concentration of Wealth

[2026.07.13] Opposition to AI data centers has emerged as a primary theme in US politics, one that—surprisingly—doesn’t fall along party lines. We applaud people coming together for constructive debate on any issue, and agree that communities need to evaluate whether any economic benefits these data centers bring is worth their costs. Still, we worry that a focus on data centers obscures the larger impacts of AI on people’s lives: the concentration of power of AI companies, and their widespread political and financial influence.

Local data center opposition is grounded in legitimate concerns about misallocation of land resources when housing is at a premium, pressures on already higher energy prices, and localized environmental impact. Unlike other resource-consuming and polluting industrial facilities, data centers produce very few jobs. The fact that US opposition to data centers seems to be most fierce among lower-income communities reflects righteous indignation with an inequitable bargain, where tech companies and developers profit from exploiting local resources but offer little in return. On a global scale, their carbon footprint could grow unsustainably if usage accelerates. And all this is in aid of a technology that many fear will propagate misinformation, take their jobs, or even cause existential risks for humanity.

For some, data center opposition may feel like the only tangible mechanism for registering their concern, disapproval, or even anger about AI. The problem is that this may be exactly what the AI companies are banking on. They can overcome the protest when it matters to them, and live with a significant fraction of proposals being defeated. More importantly, focusing political opponents on the data center issue obscures the bigger prize they’re after.

While there is a staggering three-quarters of a trillion dollars being spent on data center infrastructure by US companies this year alone, this investment should be taken in perspective. The market for enterprise software, for example, is about twice this size. And it’s small compared with what these companies actually want.

AI companies have their eyes set on capturing all the value created by entire industries. The technology has arguably already conquered customer service and consumer sales. But on the horizon are bigger targets, such as enterprise software development, creative design, management and even legal services. In AI companies and their allies’ vision of the future, AI replaces teachers and doctors. The companies would rather spend time fighting resistance to how fast they are building computing infrastructure than dealing with issues of how their products should be used in those fields, or how those fields should be protected from their products.

And while data center opposition campaigns have been successful in building widespread appeal, their effectiveness in the US is mixed. They seem to be most successful when organizing against speculative, early-stage data center proposals that have a relatively low likelihood to ever see fruition. Meanwhile, advanced-stage, well-capitalized data center projects have proven to have the resources to overcome local opposition. An OpenAI- and Oracle-backed facility in Saline township, Michigan, is breaking ground on construction even after local officials voted to reject it. The developers sued the town of 3,000 and forced a settlement that involved their project going forward. Meanwhile, the Trump administration, a vigorous ally of corporate AI, has signaled its willingness to advance AI infrastructure development by overriding state objections and even using federal lands.

Also consider that rampant data center development may be a momentary spike rather than a longstanding concern. Demand for the centralized computing that data centers provide may well decline over time. The leading Chinese labs, such as Z.ai, are innovating in technical mechanisms to make frontier-class models smaller and cheaper to run. AI power users have become adept at miniaturizing open weight models, ones published free for anyone to download and use, to run locally on their own computers. Apple and Google both support infrastructure stacks for running AI models directly on mobile phones. It could be that the current mania for data centers will look like the fiber optic cable bubble from the early 2000s, as demand shifts to smaller models and AI usage on people’s own devices.

For those concerned primarily with affordability and environmental protection, singling out data center construction is misplaced. Energy rates and inflation today seem to be most visibly affected by the US-Iran war. The US is disinvesting in long-term energy security by ceding the renewable energy industry to China and actively cancelling climate commitments. Consider that 10% of global carbon emissions stem from heating buildings, which dwarfs energy use by AI and could be cut fivefold by using heat pumps powered by renewable energy. With respect to housing affordability, federal housing subsidies have changed little over three decades, in inflation-adjusted terms, even as housing costs have spiked and homeowners have enjoyed robust tax incentives.

As for AI itself, the concentration of power and wealth in these tech companies is the greatest existential risk facing society today. This means we must limit corporate power, especially corporations’ ability to exploit the public and manipulate our political system.

Opposing data centers should be just a starting point. We can advocate for states to regulate AI, to reject irresponsible uses of the technology, and shape corporate behavior. We can fight for AI computation to be taxed, so that the public can capture some of the profit of AI use while also forcing AI companies to internalize more of the energy and environmental consequences associated with its use. And we all can join the global movement for Public AI, an alternative ecosystem for AI that is developed under public control with an incentive structure to create public benefit rather than private profit.

The US midterm elections present ample opportunity for those seeking to control the AI political agenda. In the recent New York congressional Democratic primary, PACs linked to the dueling AI companies Anthropic and OpenAI spent millions of dollars lobbying for or against “AI safety“, the idea that we must urgently monitor and prevent people from using AI to cause catastrophic harms. We’re already seeing a similar dynamic play out in races in Massachusetts and other states.

Why would Anthropic and OpenAI—bitter industry rivals but fundamentally on the same side politically—support opposing viewpoints? Because they both ultimately profit from the mystique: the idea that their products are so powerful that controlling those products is the world’s most important challenge. Here’s the typical read on the dynamic. To one side (backed by OpenAI affiliates), “safety” comes from the appearance of US industry dominating AI innovation, under the slow-moving control of federal lawmakers (and without pesky state regulators in the way). To the other side (backed by Anthropic), “safety” means a heavier regulatory framework that plays to Anthropic’s posturing as the ethics- and compliance-focused AI vendor. In both cases, it’s more marketing than principled concern about safety.

Political organizers should call out and reject the AI companies’ framing of the debate, and reorient campaign agendas around populist resistance to corporate concentration of wealth and power. When AI companies pump millions into legislative races, the result should not be hyperbolic discussion of AI superintelligence. And when a plot of land in a small town is pitched as a data center site, the debate should be about more than the local costs and benefits. It should include out-of-control money in politics, and Citizens United-proof solutions to limit corporate influence like public financing and state regulation.

We all have a vested interest in what’s on the policy agenda, and what the outcomes are. Today, the greatest risk AI poses to society is the exacerbation of inequality and the concentration of wealth. The real problem is trillion-dollar AI companies and their trillionaire oligarchs cozying up to political power in Washington and governments worldwide, and using their money to enact their agenda over the popular will of the people. This is the issue we’d like to see put front and center, and it requires solutions much more extensive than slowing data center development.

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

Vulnerability in FIFA’s Network

[2026.07.14] FIFA’s network was vulnerable to anyone with even minimal access.

Upcoming Speaking Engagements

[2026.07.14] This is a current list of where and when I am scheduled to speak:

I’m speaking (virtually) at the Policy-Relevant Privacy Research Workshop in Calgary, Canada, on Monday, July 20, 2026.
I’m speaking at Boston Leadership Exchange in Boston, Massachusetts, USA, on Wednesday, July 22, 2026.
I’m speaking at Cognitive Security Conference in Las Vegas, Nevada, USA. The conference runs August 6-7, 2026; my speaking time is TBD.
I’m speaking at DEF CON 34 in Las Vegas, Nevada, USA. The conventions runs August 6-9, 2026; my speaking time is TBD.
I’m speaking at LAcon V in Anaheim, California, USA. The convention runs August 27-31, 2026, and my speaking time is TBD.
I’m speaking at CanSecWest 2026 in Vancouver, Canada. The conference runs September 30-October 1, 2026; the time of my talk is TBD.

The list is maintained on this page.

Since 1998, CRYPTO-GRAM has been a free monthly newsletter providing summaries, analyses, insights, and commentaries on security technology. To subscribe, or to read back issues, see Crypto-Gram’s web page.

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Bruce Schneier is an internationally renowned security technologist, called a security guru by the Economist. He is the author of over one dozen books—including his latest, Rewiring Democracy—as well as hundreds of articles, essays, and academic papers. His newsletter and blog are read by over 250,000 people. Schneier is a fellow at the Berkman Klein Center for Internet & Society at Harvard University; a Lecturer in Public Policy at the Harvard Kennedy School; a board member of the Electronic Frontier Foundation, AccessNow, and the Tor Project; and an Advisory Board Member of the Electronic Privacy Information Center and VerifiedVoting.org. He is the Chief of Security Architecture at Inrupt, Inc.