Take our quiz on the year in health and biotechnology

In just a couple of weeks, we’ll be bidding farewell to 2025. And what a year it has been! Artificial intelligence is being incorporated into more aspects of our lives, weight-loss drugs have expanded in scope, and there have been some real “omg” biotech stories from the fields of gene therapy, IVF, neurotech, and more.   

As always, the team at MIT Technology Review has been putting together our 2026 list of breakthrough technologies. That will be published in the new year (watch this space). In the meantime, my colleague Antonio Regalado has compiled his traditional list of the year’s worst technologies.

I’m inviting you to put your own memory to the test. Just how closely have you been paying attention to the Checkup emails that have been landing in your inbox this year?!

This article first appeared in The Checkup, MIT Technology Review’s weekly biotech newsletter. To receive it in your inbox every Thursday, and read articles like this first, sign up here.

China figured out how to sell EVs. Now it has to bury their batteries.

In August 2025, Wang Lei decided it was finally time to say goodbye to his electric vehicle.

Wang, who is 39, had bought the car in 2016, when EVs still felt experimental in Beijing. It was a compact Chinese brand. The subsidies were good, and the salesman talked about “supporting domestic innovation.” At the time, only a few people around him were driving on batteries. He liked being early.

But now, the car’s range had started to shrink as the battery’s health declined. He could have replaced the battery, but the warranty had expired; the cost and trouble no longer felt worth it. He also wanted an upgrade, so selling became the obvious choice.

His vague plans turned into action after he started seeing ads on Douyin from local battery recyclers. He asked around at a few recycling places, and the highest offer came from a smaller shop on the outskirts of town. He added the contact on WeChat, and the next day someone drove over to pick up his car. He got paid 8,000 yuan. With the additional automobile scrappage subsidy offered by the Chinese government, Wang ultimately pocketed about 28,000 yuan.

Wang is part of a much larger trend. In the past decade, China has seen an EV boom, thanks in part to government support. Buying an electric car has gone from a novel decision to a routine one; by late 2025, nearly 60% of new cars sold were electric or plug-in hybrids.

But as the batteries in China’s first wave of EVs reach the end of their useful life, early owners are starting to retire their cars, and the country is now under pressure to figure out what to do with those aging components.

The issue is putting strain on China’s still-developing battery recycling industry and has given rise to a gray market that often cuts corners on safety and environmental standards. National regulators and commercial players are also stepping in, building out formal recycling networks and take-back programs, but so far these efforts have struggled to keep pace with the flood of batteries coming off the road.

Like the batteries in our phones and laptops, those in EVs today are mostly lithium-ion packs. Their capacity drops a little every year, making the car slower to charge, shorter in range, and more prone to safety issues. Three professionals who work in EV retail and battery recycling told MIT Technology Review that a battery is often considered to be ready to retire from a car after its capacity has degraded to under 80%. The research institution EVtank estimates that the year’s total volume of retired EV batteries in China will come in at 820,000 tons, with annual totals climbing toward 1 million tons by 2030. 

In China, this growing pile of aging batteries is starting to test a recycling ecosystem that is still far from fully built out but is rapidly growing. By the end of November 2025, China had close to 180,000 enterprises involved in battery recycling, and more than 30,000 of them had been registered since January 2025. Over 60% of the firms were founded within the past three years. This does not even include the unregulated gray market of small workshops.

Typically, one of two things happens when an EV’s battery is retired. One is called cascade utilization, in which usable battery packs are tested and repurposed for slower applications like energy storage or low-speed vehicles. The other is full recycling: Cells are dismantled and processed to recover metals such as lithium, nickel, cobalt, and manganese, which are then reused to manufacture new batteries. Both these processes, if done properly, take significant upfront investment that is often not available to small players. 

But smaller, illicit battery recycling centers can offer higher prices to consumers because they ignore costs that formal recyclers can’t avoid, like environmental protection, fire safety, wastewater treatment, compliance, and taxes, according to the three battery recycling professionals MIT Technology Review spoke to.

“They [workers] crack them open, rearrange the cells into new packs, and repackage them to sell,” says Gary Lin, a battery recycling worker who worked in several unlicensed shops from 2022 to 2024. Sometimes, the refurbished batteries are even sold as “new” to buyers, he says. When the batteries are too old or damaged, workers simply crush them and sell them by weight to rare-metal extractors. “It’s all done in a very brute-force way. The wastewater used to soak the batteries is often just dumped straight into the sewer,” he says. 

This poorly managed battery waste can release toxic substances, contaminate water and soil, and create risks of fire and explosion. That is why the Chinese government has been trying to steer batteries into certified facilities. Since 2018, China’s Ministry of Industry and Information Technology has issued five “white lists” of approved power-battery recyclers, now totaling 156 companies. Despite this, formal recycling rates remain low compared with the rapidly growing volume of waste batteries.

China is not only the world’s largest EV market; it has also become the main global manufacturing hub for EVs and the batteries that power them. In 2024, the country accounted for more than 70% of global electric-car production and more than half of global EV sales, and firms like CATL and BYD together control close to half of global EV battery output, according to a report by the International Energy Agency. These companies are stepping in to offer solutions to customers wishing to offload their old batteries. Through their dealers and 4S stores, many carmakers now offer take-back schemes or opportunities to trade in old batteries for discount when owners scrap a vehicle or buy a new one. 

BYD runs its own recycling operations that process thousands of end-of-life packs a year and has launched dedicated programs with specialist recyclers to recover materials from its batteries. Geely has built a “circular manufacturing” system that combines disassembly of scrapped vehicles, cascade use of power batteries, and high recovery rates for metals and other materials.

CATL, China’s biggest EV maker, has created one of the industry’s most developed recycling systems through its subsidiary Brunp, with more than 240 collection depots, an annual disposal capacity of about 270,000 tons of waste batteries, and metal recovery rates above 99% for nickel, cobalt, and manganese. 

“No one is better equipped to handle these batteries than the companies that make them,” says Alex Li, a battery engineer based in Shanghai. That’s because they already understand the chemistry, the supply chain, and the uses the recovered materials can be put to next. Carmakers and battery makers “need to create a closed loop eventually,” he says.

But not every consumer can receive that support from the maker of their EV, because many of those manufacturers have ceased to exist. In the past five years, over 400 smaller EV brands and startups have gone bankrupt as the price war made it hard to stay afloat, leaving only 100 active brands today. 

Analysts expect many more used batteries to hit the market in the coming years, as the first big wave of EVs bought under generous subsidies reach retirement age. Li says, “China is going to need to move much faster toward a comprehensive end-of-life system for EV batteries—one that can trace, reuse and recycle them at scale, instead of leaving so many to disappear into the gray market.”

This Nobel Prize–winning chemist dreams of making water from thin air

Omar Yaghi was a quiet child, diligent, unlikely to roughhouse with his nine siblings. So when he was old enough, his parents tasked him with one of the family’s most vital chores: fetching water. Like most homes in his Palestinian neighborhood in Amman, Jordan, the Yaghis’ had no electricity or running water. At least once every two weeks, the city switched on local taps for a few hours so residents could fill their tanks. Young Omar helped top up the family supply. Decades later, he says he can’t remember once showing up late. The fear of leaving his parents, seven brothers, and two sisters parched kept him punctual.

Yaghi proved so dependable that his father put him in charge of monitoring how much the cattle destined for the family butcher shop ate and drank. The best-­quality cuts came from well-fed, hydrated animals—a challenge given that they were raised in arid desert.

Specially designed materials called metal-organic frameworks can pull water from the air like a sponge—and then give it back.

But at 10 years old, Yaghi learned of a different occupation. Hoping to avoid a rambunctious crowd at recess, he found the library doors in his school unbolted and sneaked in. Thumbing through a chemistry textbook, he saw an image he didn’t understand: little balls connected by sticks in fascinating shapes. Molecules. The building blocks of everything.

“I didn’t know what they were, but it captivated my attention,” Yaghi says. “I kept trying to figure out what they might be.”

That’s how he discovered chemistry—or maybe how chemistry discovered him. After coming to the United States and, eventually, a postdoctoral program at Harvard University, Yaghi devoted his career to finding ways to make entirely new and fascinating shapes for those little sticks and balls. In October 2025, he was one of three scientists who won a Nobel Prize in chemistry for identifying metal-­organic frameworks, or MOFs—metal ions tethered to organic molecules that form repeating structural landscapes. Today that work is the basis for a new project that sounds like science fiction, or a miracle: conjuring water out of thin air.

When he first started working with MOFs, Yaghi thought they might be able to absorb climate-damaging carbon dioxide—or maybe hold hydrogen molecules, solving the thorny problem of storing that climate-friendly but hard-to-contain fuel. But then, in 2014, Yaghi’s team of researchers at UC Berkeley had an epiphany. The tiny pores in MOFs could be designed so the material would pull water molecules from the air around them, like a sponge—and then, with just a little heat, give back that water as if squeezed dry. Just one gram of a water-absorbing MOF has an internal surface area of roughly 7,000 square meters.

Yaghi wasn’t the first to try to pull potable water from the atmosphere. But his method could do it at lower levels of humidity than rivals—potentially shaking up a tiny, nascent industry that could be critical to humanity in the thirsty decades to come. Now the company he founded, called Atoco, is racing to demonstrate a pair of machines that Yaghi believes could produce clean, fresh, drinkable water virtually anywhere on Earth, without even hooking up to an energy supply.

That’s the goal Yaghi has been working toward for more than a decade now, with the rigid determination that he learned while doing chores in his father’s butcher shop.

“It was in that shop where I learned how to perfect things, how to have a work ethic,” he says. “I learned that a job is not done until it is well done. Don’t start a job unless you can finish it.”


Most of Earth is covered in water, but just 3% of it is fresh, with no salt—the kind of water all terrestrial living things need. Today, desalination plants that take the salt out of seawater provide the bulk of potable water in technologically advanced desert nations like Israel and the United Arab Emirates, but at a high cost. Desalination facilities either heat water to distill out the drinkable stuff or filter it with membranes the salt doesn’t pass through; both methods require a lot of energy and leave behind concentrated brine. Typically desal pumps send that brine back into the ocean, with devastating ecological effects.

hand holding a ball and stick model
Heiner Linke, chair of the Nobel Committee for Chemistry, uses a model to explain how metalorganic frameworks (MOFs) can trap smaller molecules inside. In October 2025, Yaghi and two other scientists won the Nobel Prize in chemistry for identifying MOFs.
JONATHAN NACKSTRAND/GETTY IMAGES

I was talking to Atoco executives about carbon dioxide capture earlier this year when they mentioned the possibility of harvesting water from the atmosphere. Of course my mind immediately jumped to Star Wars, and Luke Skywalker working on his family’s moisture farm, using “vaporators” to pull water from the atmosphere of the arid planet Tatooine. (Other sci-fi fans’ minds might go to Dune, and the water-gathering technology of the Fremen.) Could this possibly be real?

It turns out people have been doing it for millennia. Archaeological evidence of water harvesting from fog dates back as far as 5000 BCE. The ancient Greeks harvested dew, and 500 years ago so did the Inca, using mesh nets and buckets under trees.

Today, harvesting water from the air is a business already worth billions of dollars, say industry analysts—and it’s on track to be worth billions more in the next five years. In part that’s because typical sources of fresh water are in crisis. Less snowfall in mountains during hotter winters means less meltwater in the spring, which means less water downstream. Droughts regularly break records. Rising seas seep into underground aquifers, already drained by farming and sprawling cities. Aging septic tanks leach bacteria into water, and cancer-causing “forever chemicals” are creating what the US Government Accountability Office last year said “may be the biggest water problem since lead.” That doesn’t even get to the emerging catastrophe from microplastics.

So lots of places are turning to atmospheric water harvesting. Watergen, an Israel-based company working on the tech, initially planned on deploying in the arid, poorer parts of the world. Instead, buyers in Europe and the United States have approached the company as a way to ensure a clean supply of water. And one of Watergen’s biggest markets is the wealthy United Arab Emirates. “When you say ‘water crisis,’ it’s not just the lack of water—it’s access to good-quality water,” says Anna Chernyavsky, Watergen’s vice president of marketing.

In other words, the technology “has evolved from lab prototypes to robust, field-deployable systems,” says Guihua Yu, a mechanical engineer at the University of Texas at Austin. “There is still room to improve productivity and energy efficiency in the whole-system level, but so much progress has been steady and encouraging.”


MOFs are just the latest approach to the idea. The first generation of commercial tech depended on compressors and refrigerant chemicals—large-scale versions of the machine that keeps food cold and fresh in your kitchen. Both use electricity and a clot of pipes and exchangers to make cold by phase-shifting a chemical from gas to liquid and back; refrigerators try to limit condensation, and water generators basically try to enhance it.

That’s how Watergen’s tech works: using a compressor and a heat exchanger to wring water from air at humidity levels as low as 20%—Death Valley in the spring. “We’re talking about deserts,” Chernyavsky says. “Below 20%, you get nosebleeds.”

children in queue at a blue Watergen dispenser
A Watergen unit provides drinking water to students and staff at St. Joseph’s, a girls’ school in Freetown, Sierra Leone. “When you say ‘water crisis,’ it’s not just the lack of water— it’s access to good-quality water,” says Anna Chernyavsky, Watergen’s vice president of marketing.
COURTESY OF WATERGEN

That still might not be good enough. “Refrigeration works pretty well when you are above a certain relative humidity,” says Sameer Rao, a mechanical engineer at the University of Utah who researches atmospheric water harvesting. “As the environment dries out, you go to lower relative humidities, and it becomes harder and harder. In some cases, it’s impossible for refrigeration-based systems to really work.”

So a second wave of technology has found a market. Companies like Source Global use desiccants—substances that absorb moisture from the air, like the silica packets found in vitamin bottles—to pull in moisture and then release it when heated. In theory, the benefit of desiccant-­based tech is that it could absorb water at lower humidity levels, and it uses less energy on the front end since it isn’t running a condenser system. Source Global claims its off-grid, solar-powered system is deployed in dozens of countries.

But both technologies still require a lot of energy, either to run the heat exchangers or to generate sufficient heat to release water from the desiccants. MOFs, Yaghi hopes, do not. Now Atoco is trying to prove it. Instead of using heat exchangers to bring the air temperature to dew point or desiccants to attract water from the atmosphere, a system can rely on specially designed MOFs to attract water molecules. Atoco’s prototype version uses an MOF that looks like baby powder, stuck to a surface like glass. The pores in the MOF naturally draw in water molecules but remain open, making it theoretically easy to discharge the water with no more heat than what comes from direct sunlight. Atoco’s industrial-scale design uses electricity to speed up the process, but the company is working on a second design that can operate completely off grid, without any energy input.

Yaghi’s Atoco isn’t the only contender seeking to use MOFs for water harvesting. A competitor, AirJoule, has introduced MOF-based atmospheric water generators in Texas and the UAE and is working with researchers at Arizona State University, planning to deploy more units in the coming months. The company started out trying to build more efficient air-­conditioning for electric buses operating on hot, humid city streets. But then founder Matt Jore heard about US government efforts to harvest water from air—and pivoted. The startup’s stock price has been a bit of a roller-­coaster, but Jore says the sheer size of the market should keep him in business. Take Maricopa County, encompassing Phoenix and its environs—it uses 1.2 billion gallons of water from its shrinking aquifer every day, and another 874 million gallons from surface sources like rivers.

“So, a couple of billion gallons a day, right?” Jore tells me. “You know how much influx is in the atmosphere every day? Twenty-five billion gallons.”

My eyebrows go up. “Globally?”

“Just the greater Phoenix area gets influx of about 25 billion gallons of water in the air,” he says. “If you can tap into it, that’s your source. And it’s not going away. It’s all around the world. We view the atmosphere as the world’s free pipeline.”

Besides AirJoule’s head start on Atoco, the companies also differ on where they get their MOFs. AirJoule’s system relies on an off-the-shelf version the company buys from the chemical giant BASF; Atoco aims to use Yaghi’s skill with designing the novel material to create bespoke MOFs for different applications and locations.

“Given the fact that we have the inventor of the whole class of materials, and we leverage the stuff that comes out of his lab at Berkeley—everything else equal, we have a good starting point to engineer maybe the best materials in the world,” says Magnus Bach, Atoco’s VP of business development.

Yaghi envisions a two-pronged product line. Industrial-scale water generators that run on electricity would be capable of producing thousands of liters per day on one end, while units that run on passive systems could operate in remote locations without power, just harnessing energy from the sun and ambient temperatures. In theory, these units could someday replace desalination and even entire municipal water supplies. The next round of field tests is scheduled for early 2026, in the Mojave Desert—one of the hottest, driest places on Earth.

“That’s my dream,” Yaghi says. “To give people water independence, so they’re not reliant on another party for their lives.”

Both Yaghi and Watergen’s Chernyavsky say they’re looking at more decentralized versions that could operate outside municipal utility systems. Home appliances, similar to rooftop solar panels and batteries, could allow households to generate their own water off grid.

That could be tricky, though, without economies of scale to bring down prices. “You have to produce, you have to cool, you have to filter—all in one place,” Chernyavsky says. “So to make it small is very, very challenging.”


Difficult as that may be, Yaghi’s childhood gave him a particular appreciation for the freedom to go off grid, to liberate the basic necessity of water from the whims of systems that dictate when and how people can access it.

“That’s really my dream,” he says. “To give people independence, water independence, so that they’re not reliant on another party for their livelihood or lives.”

Toward the end of one of our conversations, I asked Yaghi what he would tell the younger version of himself if he could. “Jordan is one of the worst countries in terms of the impact of water stress,” he said. “I would say, ‘Continue to be diligent and observant. It doesn’t really matter what you’re pursuing, as long as you’re passionate.’”

I pressed him for something more specific: “What do you think he’d say when you described this technology to him?”

Yaghi smiled: “I think young Omar would think you’re putting him on, that this is all fictitious and you’re trying to take something from him.” This reality, in other words, would be beyond young Omar’s wildest dreams.

Alexander C. Kaufman is a reporter who has covered energy, climate change, pollution, business, and geopolitics for more than a decade.

Why it’s time to reset our expectations for AI

Can I ask you a question: How do you feel about AI right now? Are you still excited? When you hear that OpenAI or Google just dropped a new model, do you still get that buzz? Or has the shine come off it, maybe just a teeny bit? Come on, you can be honest with me.

Truly, I feel kind of stupid even asking the question, like a spoiled brat who has too many toys at Christmas. AI is mind-blowing. It’s one of the most important technologies to have emerged in decades (despite all its many many drawbacks and flaws and, well, issues).

At the same time I can’t help feeling a little bit: Is that it?

If you feel the same way, there’s good reason for it: The hype we have been sold for the past few years has been overwhelming. We were told that AI would solve climate change. That it would reach human-level intelligence. That it would mean we no longer had to work!

Instead we got AI slop, chatbot psychosis, and tools that urgently prompt you to write better email newsletters. Maybe we got what we deserved. Or maybe we need to reevaluate what AI is for.

That’s the reality at the heart of a new series of stories, published today, called Hype Correction. We accept that AI is still the hottest ticket in town, but it’s time to re-set our expectations.

As my colleague Will Douglas Heaven puts it in the package’s intro essay, “You can’t help but wonder: When the wow factor is gone, what’s left? How will we view this technology a year or five from now? Will we think it was worth the colossal costs, both financial and environmental?” 

Elsewhere in the package, James O’Donnell looks at Sam Altman, the ultimate AI hype man, through the medium of his own words. And Alex Heath explains the AI bubble, laying out for us what it all means and what we should look out for.

Michelle Kim analyzes one of the biggest claims in the AI hype cycle: that AI would completely eliminate the need for certain classes of jobs. If ChatGPT can pass the bar, surely that means it will replace lawyers? Well, not yet, and maybe not ever. 

Similarly, Edd Gent tackles the big question around AI coding. Is it as good as it sounds? Turns out the jury is still out. And elsewhere David Rotman looks at the real-world work that needs to be done before AI materials discovery has its breakthrough ChatGPT moment.

Meanwhile, Garrison Lovely spends time with some of the biggest names in the AI safety world and asks: Are the doomers still okay? I mean, now that people are feeling a bit less scared about their impending demise at the hands of superintelligent AI? And Margaret Mitchell reminds us that hype around generative AI can blind us to the AI breakthroughs we should really celebrate.

Let’s remember: AI was here before ChatGPT and it will be here after. This hype cycle has been wild, and we don’t know what its lasting impact will be. But AI isn’t going anywhere. We shouldn’t be so surprised that those dreams we were sold haven’t come true—yet.

The more likely story is that the real winners, the killer apps, are still to come. And a lot of money is being bet on that prospect. So yes: The hype could never sustain itself over the short term. Where we’re at now is maybe the start of a post-hype phase. In an ideal world, this hype correction will reset expectations. 

Let’s all catch our breath, shall we?

This story first appeared in The Algorithm, our weekly free newsletter all about AI. Sign up to read past editions here.

AI coding is now everywhere. But not everyone is convinced.

Depending who you ask, AI-powered coding is either giving software developers an unprecedented productivity boost or churning out masses of poorly designed code that saps their attention and sets software projects up for serious long term-maintenance problems.

The problem is right now, it’s not easy to know which is true.

As tech giants pour billions into large language models (LLMs), coding has been touted as the technology’s killer app. Both Microsoft CEO Satya Nadella and Google CEO Sundar Pichai have claimed that around a quarter of their companies’ code is now AI-generated. And in March, Anthropic’s CEO, Dario Amodei, predicted that within six months 90% of all code would be written by AI. It’s an appealing and obvious use case. Code is a form of language, we need lots of it, and it’s expensive to produce manually. It’s also easy to tell if it works—run a program and it’s immediately evident whether it’s functional.


This story is part of MIT Technology Review’s Hype Correction package, a series that resets expectations about what AI is, what it makes possible, and where we go next.


Executives enamored with the potential to break through human bottlenecks are pushing engineers to lean into an AI-powered future. But after speaking to more than 30 developers, technology executives, analysts, and researchers, MIT Technology Review found that the picture is not as straightforward as it might seem.  

For some developers on the front lines, initial enthusiasm is waning as they bump up against the technology’s limitations. And as a growing body of research suggests that the claimed productivity gains may be illusory, some are questioning whether the emperor is wearing any clothes.

The pace of progress is complicating the picture, though. A steady drumbeat of new model releases mean these tools’ capabilities and quirks are constantly evolving. And their utility often depends on the tasks they are applied to and the organizational structures built around them. All of this leaves developers navigating confusing gaps between expectation and reality. 

Is it the best of times or the worst of times (to channel Dickens) for AI coding? Maybe both.

A fast-moving field

It’s hard to avoid AI coding tools these days. There are a dizzying array of products available, both from model developers like Anthropic, OpenAI, and Google and from companies like Cursor and Windsurf, which wrap these models in polished code-editing software. And according to Stack Overflow’s 2025 Developer Survey, they’re being adopted rapidly, with 65% of developers now using them at least weekly.

AI coding tools first emerged around 2016 but were supercharged with the arrival of LLMs. Early versions functioned as little more than autocomplete for programmers, suggesting what to type next. Today they can analyze entire code bases, edit across files, fix bugs, and even generate documentation explaining how the code works. All this is guided through natural-language prompts via a chat interface.

“Agents”—autonomous LLM-powered coding tools that can take a high-level plan and build entire programs independently—represent the latest frontier in AI coding. This leap was enabled by the latest reasoning models, which can tackle complex problems step by step and, crucially, access external tools to complete tasks. “This is how the model is able to code, as opposed to just talk about coding,” says Boris Cherny, head of Claude Code, Anthropic’s coding agent.

These agents have made impressive progress on software engineering benchmarks—standardized tests that measure model performance. When OpenAI introduced the SWE-bench Verified benchmark in August 2024, offering a way to evaluate agents’ success at fixing real bugs in open-source repositories, the top model solved just 33% of issues. A year later, leading models consistently score above 70%

In February, Andrej Karpathy, a founding member of OpenAI and former director of AI at Tesla, coined the term “vibe coding”—meaning an approach where people describe software in natural language and let AI write, refine, and debug the code. Social media abounds with developers who have bought into this vision, claiming massive productivity boosts.

But while some developers and companies report such productivity gains, the hard evidence is more mixed. Early studies from GitHub, Google, and Microsoft—all vendors of AI tools—found developers completing tasks 20% to 55% faster. But a September report from the consultancy Bain & Company described real-world savings as “unremarkable.”

Data from the developer analytics firm GitClear shows that most engineers are producing roughly 10% more durable code—code that isn’t deleted or rewritten within weeks—since 2022, likely thanks to AI. But that gain has come with sharp declines in several measures of code quality. Stack Overflow’s survey also found trust and positive sentiment toward AI tools falling significantly for the first time. And most provocatively, a July study by the nonprofit research organization Model Evaluation & Threat Research (METR) showed that while experienced developers believed AI made them 20% faster, objective tests showed they were actually 19% slower.

Growing disillusionment

For Mike Judge, principal developer at the software consultancy Substantial, the METR study struck a nerve. He was an enthusiastic early adopter of AI tools, but over time he grew frustrated with their limitations and the modest boost they brought to his productivity. “I was complaining to people because I was like, ‘It’s helping me but I can’t figure out how to make it really help me a lot,’” he says. “I kept feeling like the AI was really dumb, but maybe I could trick it into being smart if I found the right magic incantation.”

When asked by a friend, Judge had estimated the tools were providing a roughly 25% speedup. So when he saw similar estimates attributed to developers in the METR study he decided to test his own. For six weeks, he guessed how long a task would take, flipped a coin to decide whether to use AI or code manually, and timed himself. To his surprise, AI slowed him down by an median of 21%—mirroring the METR results.

This got Judge crunching the numbers. If these tools were really speeding developers up, he reasoned, you should see a massive boom in new apps, website registrations, video games, and projects on GitHub. He spent hours and several hundred dollars analyzing all the publicly available data and found flat lines everywhere.

“Shouldn’t this be going up and to the right?” says Judge. “Where’s the hockey stick on any of these graphs? I thought everybody was so extraordinarily productive.” The obvious conclusion, he says, is that AI tools provide little productivity boost for most developers. 

Developers interviewed by MIT Technology Review generally agree on where AI tools excel: producing “boilerplate code” (reusable chunks of code repeated in multiple places with little modification), writing tests, fixing bugs, and explaining unfamiliar code to new developers. Several noted that AI helps overcome the “blank page problem” by offering an imperfect first stab to get a developer’s creative juices flowing. It can also let nontechnical colleagues quickly prototype software features, easing the load on already overworked engineers.

These tasks can be tedious, and developers are typically  glad to hand them off. But they represent only a small part of an experienced engineer’s workload. For the more complex problems where engineers really earn their bread, many developers told MIT Technology Review, the tools face significant hurdles.

Perhaps the biggest problem is that LLMs can hold only a limited amount of information in their “context window”—essentially their working memory. This means they struggle to parse large code bases and are prone to forgetting what they’re doing on longer tasks. “It gets really nearsighted—it’ll only look at the thing that’s right in front of it,” says Judge. “And if you tell it to do a dozen things, it’ll do 11 of them and just forget that last one.”

DEREK BRAHNEY

LLMs’ myopia can lead to headaches for human coders. While an LLM-generated response to a problem may work in isolation, software is made up of hundreds of interconnected modules. If these aren’t built with consideration for other parts of the software, it can quickly lead to a tangled, inconsistent code base that’s hard for humans to parse and, more important, to maintain.

Developers have traditionally addressed this by following conventions—loosely defined coding guidelines that differ widely between projects and teams. “AI has this overwhelming tendency to not understand what the existing conventions are within a repository,” says Bill Harding, the CEO of GitClear. “And so it is very likely to come up with its own slightly different version of how to solve a problem.”

The models also just get things wrong. Like all LLMs, coding models are prone to “hallucinating”—it’s an issue built into how they work. But because the code they output looks so polished, errors can be difficult to detect, says James Liu, director of software engineering at the advertising technology company Mediaocean. Put all these flaws together, and using these tools can feel a lot like pulling a lever on a one-armed bandit. “Some projects you get a 20x improvement in terms of speed or efficiency,” says Liu. “On other things, it just falls flat on its face, and you spend all this time trying to coax it into granting you the wish that you wanted and it’s just not going to.”

Judge suspects this is why engineers often overestimate productivity gains. “You remember the jackpots. You don’t remember sitting there plugging tokens into the slot machine for two hours,” he says.

And it can be particularly pernicious if the developer is unfamiliar with the task. Judge remembers getting AI to help set up a Microsoft cloud service called an Azure Functions, which he’d never used before. He thought it would take about two hours, but nine hours later he threw in the towel. “It kept leading me down these rabbit holes and I didn’t know enough about the topic to be able to tell it ‘Hey, this is nonsensical,’” he says.

The debt begins to mount up

Developers constantly make trade-offs between speed of development and the maintainability of their code—creating what’s known as “technical debt,” says Geoffrey G. Parker, professor of engineering innovation at Dartmouth College. Each shortcut adds complexity and makes the code base harder to manage, accruing “interest” that must eventually be repaid by restructuring the code. As this debt piles up, adding new features and maintaining the software becomes slower and more difficult.

Accumulating technical debt is inevitable in most projects, but AI tools make it much easier for time-pressured engineers to cut corners, says GitClear’s Harding. And GitClear’s data suggests this is happening at scale. Since 2020, the company has seen a significant rise in the amount of copy-pasted code—an indicator that developers are reusing more code snippets, most likely based on AI suggestions—and an even bigger decline in the amount of code moved from one place to another, which happens when developers clean up their code base.

And as models improve, the code they produce is becoming increasingly verbose and complex, says Tariq Shaukat, CEO of Sonar, which makes tools for checking code quality. This is driving down the number of obvious bugs and security vulnerabilities, he says, but at the cost of increasing the number of “code smells”—harder-to-pinpoint flaws that lead to maintenance problems and technical debt. 

Recent research by Sonar found that these make up more than 90% of the issues found in code generated by leading AI models. “Issues that are easy to spot are disappearing, and what’s left are much more complex issues that take a while to find,” says Shaukat. “That’s what worries us about this space at the moment. You’re almost being lulled into a false sense of security.”

If AI tools make it increasingly difficult to maintain code, that could have significant security implications, says Jessica Ji, a security researcher at Georgetown University. “The harder it is to update things and fix things, the more likely a code base or any given chunk of code is to become insecure over time,” says Ji.

There are also more specific security concerns, she says. Researchers have discovered a worrying class of hallucinations where models reference nonexistent software packages in their code. Attackers can exploit this by creating packages with those names that harbor vulnerabilities, which the model or developer may then unwittingly incorporate into software. 

LLMs are also vulnerable to “data-poisoning attacks,” where hackers seed the publicly available data sets models train on with data that alters the model’s behavior in undesirable ways, such as generating insecure code when triggered by specific phrases. In October, research by Anthropic found that as few as 250 malicious documents can introduce this kind of back door into an LLM regardless of its size.

The converted

Despite these issues, though, there’s probably no turning back. “Odds are that writing every line of code on a keyboard by hand—those days are quickly slipping behind us,” says Kyle Daigle, chief operating officer at the Microsoft-owned code-hosting platform GitHub, which produces a popular AI-powered tool called Copilot (not to be confused with the Microsoft product of the same name).

The Stack Overflow report found that despite growing distrust in the technology, usage has increased rapidly and consistently over the past three years. Erin Yepis, a senior analyst at Stack Overflow, says this suggests that engineers are taking advantage of the tools with a clear-eyed view of the risks. The report also found that frequent users tend to be more enthusiastic and more than half of developers are not using the latest coding agents, perhaps explaining why many remain underwhelmed by the technology.

Those latest tools can be a revelation. Trevor Dilley, CTO at the software development agency Twenty20 Ideas, says he had found some value in AI editors’ autocomplete functions, but when he tried anything more complex it would “fail catastrophically.” Then in March, while on vacation with his family, he set the newly released Claude Code to work on one of his hobby projects. It completed a four-hour task in two minutes, and the code was better than what he would have written.

“I was like, Whoa,” he says. “That, for me, was the moment, really. There’s no going back from here.” Dilley has since cofounded a startup called DevSwarm, which is creating software that can marshal multiple agents to work in parallel on a piece of software.

The challenge, says Armin Ronacher, a prominent open-source developer, is that the learning curve for these tools is shallow but long. Until March he’d remained unimpressed by AI tools, but after leaving his job at the software company Sentry in April to launch a startup, he started experimenting with agents. “I basically spent a lot of months doing nothing but this,” he says. “Now, 90% of the code that I write is AI-generated.”

Getting to that point involved extensive trial and error, to figure out which problems tend to trip the tools up and which they can handle efficiently. Today’s models can tackle most coding tasks with the right guardrails, says Ronacher, but these can be very task and project specific.

To get the most out of these tools, developers must surrender control over individual lines of code and focus on the overall software architecture, says Nico Westerdale, chief technology officer at the veterinary staffing company IndeVets. He recently built a data science platform 100,000 lines of code long almost exclusively by prompting models rather than writing the code himself.

Westerdale’s process starts with an extended conversation with the modelagent to develop a detailed plan for what to build and how. He then guides it through each step. It rarely gets things right on the first try and needs constant wrangling, but if you force it to stick to well-defined design patterns, the models can produce high-quality, easily maintainable code, says Westerdale. He reviews every line, and the code is as good as anything he’s ever produced, he says: “I’ve just found it absolutely revolutionary,. It’s also frustrating, difficult, a different way of thinking, and we’re only just getting used to it.”

But while individual developers are learning how to use these tools effectively, getting consistent results across a large engineering team is significantly harder. AI tools amplify both the good and bad aspects of your engineering culture, says Ryan J. Salva, senior director of product management at Google. With strong processes, clear coding patterns, and well-defined best practices, these tools can shine. 

DEREK BRAHNEY

But if your development process is disorganized, they’ll only magnify the problems. It’s also essential to codify that institutional knowledge so the models can draw on it effectively. “A lot of work needs to be done to help build up context and get the tribal knowledge out of our heads,” he says.

The cryptocurrency exchange Coinbase has been vocal about its adoption of AI tools. CEO Brian Armstrong made headlines in August when he revealed that the company had fired staff unwilling to adopt AI tools. But Coinbase’s head of platform, Rob Witoff, tells MIT Technology Review that while they’ve seen massive productivity gains in some areas, the impact has been patchy. For simpler tasks like restructuring the code base and writing tests, AI-powered workflows have achieved speedups of up to 90%. But gains are more modest for other tasks, and the disruption caused by overhauling existing processes often counteracts the increased coding speed, says Witoff.

One factor is that AI tools let junior developers produce far more code,. As in almost all engineering teams, this code has to be reviewed by others, normally more senior developers, to catch bugs and ensure it meets quality standards. But the sheer volume of code now being churned out i whichs quickly saturatinges the ability of midlevel staff to review changes. “This is the cycle we’re going through almost every month, where we automate a new thing lower down in the stack, which brings more pressure higher up in the stack,” he says. “Then we’re looking at applying automation to that higher-up piece.”

Developers also spend only 20% to 40% of their time coding, says Jue Wang, a partner at Bain, so even a significant speedup there often translates to more modest overall gains. Developers spend the rest of their time analyzing software problems and dealing with customer feedback, product strategy, and administrative tasks. To get significant efficiency boosts, companies may need to apply generative AI to all these other processes too, says Jue, and that is still in the works.

Rapid evolution

Programming with agents is a dramatic departure from previous working practices, though, so it’s not surprising companies are facing some teething issues. These are also very new products that are changing by the day. “Every couple months the model improves, and there’s a big step change in the model’s coding capabilities and you have to get recalibrated,” says Anthropic’s Cherny.

For example, in June Anthropic introduced a built-in planning mode to Claude; it has since been replicated by other providers. In October, the company also enabled Claude to ask users questions when it needs more context or faces multiple possible solutions, which Cherny says helps it avoid the tendency to simply assume which path is the best way forward.

Most significant, Anthropic has added features that make Claude better at managing its own context. When it nears the limits of its working memory, it summarizes key details and uses them to start a new context window, effectively giving it an “infinite” one, says Cherny. Claude can also invoke sub-agents to work on smaller tasks, so it no longer has to hold all aspects of the project in its own head. The company claims that its latest model, Claude 4.5 Sonnet, can now code autonomously for more than 30 hours without major performance degradation.

Novel approaches to software development could also sidestep coding agents’ other flaws. MIT professor Max Tegmark has introduced something he calls “vericoding,” which could allow agents to produce entirely bug-free code from a natural-language description. It builds on an approach known as “formal verification,” where developers create a mathematical model of their software that can prove incontrovertibly that it functions correctly. This approach is used in high-stakes areas like flight-control systems and cryptographic libraries, but it remains costly and time-consuming, limiting its broader use.

Rapid improvements in LLMs’ mathematical capabilities have opened up the tantalizing possibility of models that produce not only software but the mathematical proof that it’s bug free, says Tegmark. “You just give the specification, and the AI comes back with provably correct code,” he says. “You don’t have to touch the code. You don’t even have to ever look at the code.”

When tested on about 2,000 vericoding problems in Dafny—a language designed for formal verification—the best LLMs solved over 60%, according to non-peer-reviewed research by Tegmark’s group. This was achieved with off-the-shelf LLMs, and Tegmark expects that training specifically for vericoding could improve scores rapidly.

And counterintuitively, Tthe speed at which AI generates code could actuallylso ease maintainability concerns. Alex Worden, principal engineer at the business software giant Intuit, notes that maintenance is often difficult because engineers reuse components across projects, creating a tangle of dependencies where one change triggers cascading effects across the code base. Reusing code used to save developers time, but in a world where AI can produce hundreds of lines of code in seconds, that imperative has gone, says Worden.

Instead, he advocates for “disposable code,” where each component is generated independently by AI without regard for whether it follows design patterns or conventions. They are then connected via APIs—sets of rules that let components request information or services from each other. Each component’s inner workings are not dependent on other parts of the code base, making it possible to rip them out and replace them without wider impact, says Worden. 

“The industry is still concerned about humans maintaining AI-generated code,” he says. “I question how long humans will look at or care about code.”

A narrowing talent pipeline

For the foreseeable future, though, humans will still need to understand and maintain the code that underpins their projects. And one of the most pernicious side effects of AI tools may be a shrinking pool of people capable of doing so. 

Early evidence suggests that fears around the job-destroying effects of AI may be justified. A recent Stanford University study found that employment among software developers aged 22 to 25 fell nearly 20% between 2022 and 2025, coinciding with the rise of AI-powered coding tools.

Experienced developers could face difficulties too. Luciano Nooijen, an engineer at the video-game infrastructure developer Companion Group, used AI tools heavily in his day job, where they were provided for free. But when he began a side project without access to those tools, he found himself struggling with tasks that previously came naturally. “I was feeling so stupid because things that used to be instinct became manual, sometimes even cumbersome,” says Nooijen.

Just as athletes still perform basic drills, he thinks the only way to maintain an instinct for coding is to regularly practice the grunt work. That’s why he’s largely abandoned AI tools, though he admits that deeper motivations are also at play. 

Part of the reason Nooijen and other developers MIT Technology Review spoke to are pushing back against AI tools is a sense that they are hollowing out the parts of their jobs that they love. “I got into software engineering because I like working with computers. I like making machines do things that I want,” Nooijen says. “It’s just not fun sitting there with my work being done for me.”

A brief history of Sam Altman’s hype

Each time you’ve heard a borderline outlandish idea of what AI will be capable of, it often turns out that Sam Altman was, if not the first to articulate it, at least the most persuasive and influential voice behind it. 

For more than a decade he has been known in Silicon Valley as a world-class fundraiser and persuader. OpenAI’s early releases around 2020 set the stage for a mania around large language models, and the launch of ChatGPT in November 2022 granted Altman a world stage on which to present his new thesis: that these models mirror human intelligence and could swing the doors open to a healthier and wealthier techno-utopia.


This story is part of MIT Technology Review’s Hype Correction package, a series that resets expectations about what AI is, what it makes possible, and where we go next.


Throughout, Altman’s words have set the agenda. He has framed a prospective superintelligent AI as either humanistic or catastrophic, depending on what effect he was hoping to create, what he was raising money for, or which tech giant seemed like his most formidable competitor at the moment. 

Examining Altman’s statements over the years reveals just how much his outlook has powered today’s AI boom. Even among Silicon Valley’s many hypesters, he’s been especially willing to speak about open questions—whether large language models contain the ingredients of human thought, whether language can also produce intelligence—as if they were already answered. 

What he says about AI is rarely provable when he says it, but it persuades us of one thing: This road we’re on with AI can go somewhere either great or terrifying, and OpenAI will need epic sums to steer it toward the right destination. In this sense, he is the ultimate hype man.

To understand how his voice has shaped our understanding of what AI can do, we read almost everything he’s ever said about the technology (we requested an interview with Altman, but he was not made available). 

His own words trace how we arrived here.

In conclusion … 

Altman didn’t dupe the world. OpenAI has ushered in a genuine tech revolution, with increasingly impressive language models that have attracted millions of users. Even skeptics would concede that LLMs’ conversational ability is astonishing.

But Altman’s hype has always hinged less on today’s capabilities than on a philosophical tomorrow—an outlook that quite handily doubles as a case for more capital and friendlier regulation. Long before large language models existed, he was imagining an AI powerful enough to require wealth redistribution, just as he imagined humanity colonizing other planets. Again and again, promises of a destination—abundance, superintelligence, a healthier and wealthier world—have come first, and the evidence second. 

Even if LLMs eventually hit a wall, there’s little reason to think his faith in a techno-utopian future will falter. The vision was never really about the particulars of the current model anyway. 

The AI doomers feel undeterred

It’s a weird time to be an AI doomer.

This small but influential community of researchers, scientists, and policy experts believes, in the simplest terms, that AI could get so good it could be bad—very, very bad—for humanity. Though many of these people would be more likely to describe themselves as advocates for AI safety than as literal doomsayers, they warn that AI poses an existential risk to humanity. They argue that absent more regulation, the industry could hurtle toward systems it can’t control. They commonly expect such systems to follow the creation of artificial general intelligence (AGI), a slippery concept generally understood as technology that can do whatever humans can do, and better. 


This story is part of MIT Technology Review’s Hype Correction package, a series that resets expectations about what AI is, what it makes possible, and where we go next.


Though this is far from a universally shared perspective in the AI field, the doomer crowd has had some notable success over the past several years: helping shape AI policy coming from the Biden administration, organizing prominent calls for international “red lines” to prevent AI risks, and getting a bigger (and more influential) megaphone as some of its adherents win science’s most prestigious awards.

But a number of developments over the past six months have put them on the back foot. Talk of an AI bubble has overwhelmed the discourse as tech companies continue to invest in multiple Manhattan Projects’ worth of data centers without any certainty that future demand will match what they’re building. 

And then there was the August release of OpenAI’s latest foundation model, GPT-5, which proved something of a letdown. Maybe that was inevitable, since it was the most hyped AI release of all time; OpenAI CEO Sam Altman had boasted that GPT-5 felt “like a PhD-level expert” in every topic and told the podcaster Theo Von that the model was so good, it had made him feel “useless relative to the AI.” 

Many expected GPT-5 to be a big step toward AGI, but whatever progress the model may have made was overshadowed by a string of technical bugs and the company’s mystifying, quickly reversed decision to shut off access to every old OpenAI model without warning. And while the new model achieved state-of-the-art benchmark scores, many people felt, perhaps unfairly, that in day-to-day use GPT-5 was a step backward

All this would seem to threaten some of the very foundations of the doomers’ case. In turn, a competing camp of AI accelerationists, who fear AI is actually not moving fast enough and that the industry is constantly at risk of being smothered by overregulation, is seeing a fresh chance to change how we approach AI safety (or, maybe more accurately, how we don’t). 

This is particularly true of the industry types who’ve decamped to Washington: “The Doomer narratives were wrong,” declared David Sacks, the longtime venture capitalist turned Trump administration AI czar. “This notion of imminent AGI has been a distraction and harmful and now effectively proven wrong,” echoed the White House’s senior policy advisor for AI and tech investor Sriram Krishnan. (Sacks and Krishnan did not reply to requests for comment.) 

(There is, of course, another camp in the AI safety debate: the group of researchers and advocates commonly associated with the label “AI ethics.” Though they also favor regulation, they tend to think the speed of AI progress has been overstated and have often written off AGI as a sci-fi story or a scam that distracts us from the technology’s immediate threats. But any potential doomer demise wouldn’t exactly give them the same opening the accelerationists are seeing.)

So where does this leave the doomers? As part of our Hype Correction package, we decided to ask some of the movement’s biggest names to see if the recent setbacks and general vibe shift had altered their views. Are they angry that policymakers no longer seem to heed their threats? Are they quietly adjusting their timelines for the apocalypse? 

Recent interviews with 20 people who study or advocate AI safety and governance—including Nobel Prize winner Geoffrey Hinton, Turing Prize winner Yoshua Bengio, and high-profile experts like former OpenAI board member Helen Toner—reveal that rather than feeling chastened or lost in the wilderness, they’re still deeply committed to their cause, believing that AGI remains not just possible but incredibly dangerous.

At the same time, they seem to be grappling with a near contradiction. While they’re somewhat relieved that recent developments suggest AGI is further out than they previously thought (“Thank God we have more time,” says AI researcher Jeffrey Ladish), they also feel frustrated that some people in power are pushing policy against their cause (Daniel Kokotajlo, lead author of a cautionary forecast called “AI 2027,” says “AI policy seems to be getting worse” and calls the Sacks and Krishnan tweets “deranged and/or dishonest.”)

Broadly speaking, these experts see the talk of an AI bubble as no more than a speed bump, and disappointment in GPT-5 as more distracting than illuminating. They still generally favor more robust regulation and worry that progress on policy—the implementation of the EU AI Act; the passage of the first major American AI safety bill, California’s SB 53; and new interest in AGI risk from some members of Congress—has become vulnerable as Washington overreacts to what doomers see as short-term failures to live up to the hype. 

Some were also eager to correct what they see as the most persistent misconceptions about the doomer world. Though their critics routinely mock them for predicting that AGI is right around the corner, they claim that’s never been an essential part of their case: It “isn’t about imminence,” says Berkeley professor Stuart Russell, the author of Human Compatible: Artificial Intelligence and the Problem of Control. Most people I spoke with say their timelines to dangerous systems have actually lengthened slightly in the last year—an important change given how quickly the policy and technical landscapes can shift. 

“If someone said there’s a four-mile-diameter asteroid that’s going to hit the Earth in 2067, we wouldn’t say, ‘Remind me in 2066 and we’ll think about it.’”

Many of them, in fact, emphasize the importance of changing timelines. And even if they are just a tad longer now, Toner tells me that one big-picture story of the ChatGPT era is the dramatic compression of these estimates across the AI world. For a long while, she says, AGI was expected in many decades. Now, for the most part, the predicted arrival is sometime in the next few years to 20 years. So even if we have a little bit more time, she (and many of her peers) continue to see AI safety as incredibly, vitally urgent. She tells me that if AGI were possible anytime in even the next 30 years, “It’s a huge fucking deal. We should have a lot of people working on this.”

So despite the precarious moment doomers find themselves in, their bottom line remains that no matter when AGI is coming (and, again, they say it’s very likely coming), the world is far from ready. 

Maybe you agree. Or maybe you may think this future is far from guaranteed. Or that it’s the stuff of science fiction. You may even think AGI is a great big conspiracy theory. You’re not alone, of course—this topic is polarizing. But whatever you think about the doomer mindset, there’s no getting around the fact that certain people in this world have a lot of influence. So here are some of the most prominent people in the space, reflecting on this moment in their own words. 

Interviews have been edited and condensed for length and clarity. 


The Nobel laureate who’s not sure what’s coming

Geoffrey Hinton, winner of the Turing Award and the Nobel Prize in physics for pioneering deep learning

The biggest change in the last few years is that there are people who are hard to dismiss who are saying this stuff is dangerous. Like, [former Google CEO] Eric Schmidt, for example, really recognized this stuff could be really dangerous. He and I were in China recently talking to someone on the Politburo, the party secretary of Shanghai, to make sure he really understood—and he did. I think in China, the leadership understands AI and its dangers much better because many of them are engineers.

I’ve been focused on the longer-term threat: When AIs get more intelligent than us, can we really expect that humans will remain in control or even relevant? But I don’t think anything is inevitable. There’s huge uncertainty on everything. We’ve never been here before. Anybody who’s confident they know what’s going to happen seems silly to me. I think this is very unlikely but maybe it’ll turn out that all the people saying AI is way overhyped are correct. Maybe it’ll turn out that we can’t get much further than the current chatbots—we hit a wall due to limited data. I don’t believe that. I think that’s unlikely, but it’s possible. 

I also don’t believe people like Eliezer Yudkowsky, who say if anybody builds it, we’re all going to die. We don’t know that. 

But if you go on the balance of the evidence, I think it’s fair to say that most experts who know a lot about AI believe it’s very probable that we’ll have superintelligence within the next 20 years. [Google DeepMind CEO] Demis Hassabis says maybe 10 years. Even [prominent AI skeptic] Gary Marcus would probably say, “Well, if you guys make a hybrid system with good old-fashioned symbolic logic … maybe that’ll be superintelligent.” [Editor’s note: In September, Marcus predicted AGI would arrive between 2033 and 2040.]

And I don’t think anybody believes progress will stall at AGI. I think more or less everybody believes a few years after AGI, we’ll have superintelligence, because the AGI will be better than us at building AI.

So while I think it’s clear that the winds are getting more difficult, simultaneously, people are putting in many more resources [into developing advanced AI]. I think progress will continue just because there’s many more resources going in.

The deep learning pioneer who wishes he’d seen the risks sooner

Yoshua Bengio, winner of the Turing Award, chair of the International AI Safety Report, and founder of LawZero

Some people thought that GPT-5 meant we had hit a wall, but that isn’t quite what you see in the scientific data and trends.

There have been people overselling the idea that AGI is tomorrow morning, which commercially could make sense. But if you look at the various benchmarks, GPT-5 is just where you would expect the models at that point in time to be. By the way, it’s not just GPT-5, it’s Claude and Google models, too. In some areas where AI systems weren’t very good, like Humanity’s Last Exam or FrontierMath, they’re getting much better scores now than they were at the beginning of the year.

At the same time, the overall landscape for AI governance and safety is not good. There’s a strong force pushing against regulation. It’s like climate change. We can put our head in the sand and hope it’s going to be fine, but it doesn’t really deal with the issue.

The biggest disconnect with policymakers is a misunderstanding of the scale of change that is likely to happen if the trend of AI progress continues. A lot of people in business and governments simply think of AI as just another technology that’s going to be economically very powerful. They don’t understand how much it might change the world if trends continue, and we approach human-level AI. 

Like many people, I had been blinding myself to the potential risks to some extent. I should have seen it coming much earlier. But it’s human. You’re excited about your work and you want to see the good side of it. That makes us a little bit biased in not really paying attention to the bad things that could happen.

Even a small chance—like 1% or 0.1%—of creating an accident where billions of people die is not acceptable. 

The AI veteran who believes AI is progressing—but not fast enough to prevent the bubble from bursting

Stuart Russell, distinguished professor of computer science, University of California, Berkeley, and author of Human Compatible

I hope the idea that talking about existential risk makes you a “doomer” or is “science fiction” comes to be seen as fringe, given that most leading AI researchers and most leading AI CEOs take it seriously. 

There have been claims that AI could never pass a Turing test, or you could never have a system that uses natural language fluently, or one that could parallel-park a car. All these claims just end up getting disproved by progress.

People are spending trillions of dollars to make superhuman AI happen. I think they need some new ideas, but there’s a significant chance they will come up with them, because many significant new ideas have happened in the last few years. 

My fairly consistent estimate for the last 12 months has been that there’s a 75% chance that those breakthroughs are not going to happen in time to rescue the industry from the bursting of the bubble. Because the investments are consistent with a prediction that we’re going to have much better AI that will deliver much more value to real customers. But if those predictions don’t come true, then there’ll be a lot of blood on the floor in the stock markets.

However, the safety case isn’t about imminence. It’s about the fact that we still don’t have a solution to the control problem. If someone said there’s a four-mile-diameter asteroid that’s going to hit the Earth in 2067, we wouldn’t say, “Remind me in 2066 and we’ll think about it.” We don’t know how long it takes to develop the technology needed to control superintelligent AI.

Looking at precedents, the acceptable level of risk for a nuclear plant melting down is about one in a million per year. Extinction is much worse than that. So maybe set the acceptable risk at one in a billion. But the companies are saying it’s something like one in five. They don’t know how to make it acceptable. And that’s a problem.

The professor trying to set the narrative straight on AI safety

David Krueger, assistant professor in machine learning at the University of Montreal and Yoshua Bengio’s Mila Institute, and founder of Evitable

I think people definitely overcorrected in their response to GPT-5. But there was hype. My recollection was that there were multiple statements from CEOs at various levels of explicitness who basically said that by the end of 2025, we’re going to have an automated drop-in replacement remote worker. But it seems like it’s been underwhelming, with agents just not really being there yet.

I’ve been surprised how much these narratives predicting AGI in 2027 capture the public attention. When 2027 comes around, if things still look pretty normal, I think people are going to feel like the whole worldview has been falsified. And it’s really annoying how often when I’m talking to people about AI safety, they assume that I think we have really short timelines to dangerous systems, or that I think LLMs or deep learning are going to give us AGI. They ascribe all these extra assumptions to me that aren’t necessary to make the case. 

I’d expect we need decades for the international coordination problem. So even if dangerous AI is decades off, it’s already urgent. That point seems really lost on a lot of people. There’s this idea of “Let’s wait until we have a really dangerous system and then start governing it.” Man, that is way too late.

I still think people in the safety community tend to work behind the scenes, with people in power, not really with civil society. It gives ammunition to people who say it’s all just a scam or insider lobbying. That’s not to say that there’s no truth to these narratives, but the underlying risk is still real. We need more public awareness and a broad base of support to have an effective response.

If you actually believe there’s a 10% chance of doom in the next 10 years—which I think a reasonable person should, if they take a close look—then the first thing you think is: “Why are we doing this? This is crazy.” That’s just a very reasonable response once you buy the premise.

The governance expert worried about AI safety’s credibility

Helen Toner, acting executive director of Georgetown University’s Center for Security and Emerging Technology and former OpenAI board member

When I got into the space, AI safety was more of a set of philosophical ideas. Today, it’s a thriving set of subfields of machine learning, filling in the gulf between some of the more “out there” concerns about AI scheming, deception, or power-seeking and real concrete systems we can test and play with. 

“I worry that some aggressive AGI timeline estimates from some AI safety people are setting them up for a boy-who-cried-wolf moment.”

AI governance is improving slowly. If we have lots of time to adapt and governance can keep improving slowly, I feel not bad. If we don’t have much time, then we’re probably moving too slow.

I think GPT-5 is generally seen as a disappointment in DC. There’s a pretty polarized conversation around: Are we going to have AGI and superintelligence in the next few years? Or is AI actually just totally all hype and useless and a bubble? The pendulum had maybe swung too far toward “We’re going to have super-capable systems very, very soon.” And so now it’s swinging back toward “It’s all hype.”

I worry that some aggressive AGI timeline estimates from some AI safety people are setting them up for a boy-who-cried-wolf moment. When the predictions about AGI coming in 2027 don’t come true, people will say, “Look at all these people who made fools of themselves. You should never listen to them again.” That’s not the intellectually honest response, if maybe they later changed their mind, or their take was that they only thought it was 20 percent likely and they thought that was still worth paying attention to. I think that shouldn’t be disqualifying for people to listen to you later, but I do worry it will be a big credibility hit. And that’s applying to people who are very concerned about AI safety and never said anything about very short timelines.

The AI security researcher who now believes AGI is further out—and is grateful

Jeffrey Ladish, executive director at Palisade Research

In the last year, two big things updated my AGI timelines. 

First, the lack of high-quality data turned out to be a bigger problem than I expected. 

Second, the first “reasoning” model, OpenAI’s o1 in September 2024, showed reinforcement learning scaling was more effective than I thought it would be. And then months later, you see the o1 to o3 scale-up and you see pretty crazy impressive performance in math and coding and science—domains where it’s easier to sort of verify the results. But while we’re seeing continued progress, it could have been much faster.

All of this bumps up my median estimate to the start of fully automated AI research and development from three years to maybe five or six years. But those are kind of made up numbers. It’s hard. I want to caveat all this with, like, “Man, it’s just really hard to do forecasting here.”

Thank God we have more time. We have a possibly very brief window of opportunity to really try to understand these systems before they are capable and strategic enough to pose a real threat to our ability to control them.

But it’s scary to see people think that we’re not making progress anymore when that’s clearly not true. I just know it’s not true because I use the models. One of the downsides of the way AI is progressing is that how fast it’s moving is becoming less legible to normal people. 

Now, this is not true in some domains—like, look at Sora 2. It is so obvious to anyone who looks at it that Sora 2 is vastly better than what came before. But if you ask GPT-4 and GPT-5 why the sky is blue, they’ll give you basically the same answer. It is the correct answer. It’s already saturated the ability to tell you why the sky is blue. So the people who I expect to most understand AI progress right now are the people who are actually building with AIs or using AIs on very difficult scientific problems.

The AGI forecaster who saw the critics coming

Daniel Kokotajlo, executive director of the AI Futures Project; an OpenAI whistleblower; and lead author of “AI 2027,” a vivid scenario where—starting in 2027—AIs progress from “superhuman coders” to “wildly superintelligent” systems in the span of months

AI policy seems to be getting worse, like the “Pro-AI” super PAC [launched earlier this year by executives from OpenAI and Andreessen Horowitz to lobby for a deregulatory agenda], and the deranged and/or dishonest tweets from Sriram Krishnan and David Sacks. AI safety research is progressing at the usual pace, which is excitingly rapid compared to most fields, but slow compared to how fast it needs to be.

We said on the first page of “AI 2027” that our timelines were somewhat longer than 2027. So even when we launched AI 2027, we expected there to be a bunch of critics in 2028 triumphantly saying we’ve been discredited, like the tweets from Sacks and Krishnan. But we thought, and continue to think, that the intelligence explosion will probably happen sometime in the next five to 10 years, and that when it does, people will remember our scenario and realize it was closer to the truth than anything else available in 2025. 

Predicting the future is hard, but it’s valuable to try; people should aim to communicate their uncertainty about the future in a way that is specific and falsifiable. This is what we’ve done and very few others have done. Our critics mostly haven’t made predictions of their own and often exaggerate and mischaracterize our views. They say our timelines are shorter than they are or ever were, or they say we are more confident than we are or were.

I feel pretty good about having longer timelines to AGI. It feels like I just got a better prognosis from my doctor. The situation is still basically the same, though.

This story has been updated to clarify some of Kokotajlo’s views on AI policy.

Garrison Lovely is a freelance journalist and the author of Obsolete, an online publication and forthcoming book on the discourse, economics, and geopolitics of the race to build machine superintelligence (out spring 2026). His writing on AI has appeared in the New York Times, Nature, Bloomberg, Time, the Guardian, The Verge, and elsewhere.

The great AI hype correction of 2025

Some disillusionment was inevitable. When OpenAI released a free web app called ChatGPT in late 2022, it changed the course of an entire industry—and several world economies. Millions of people started talking to their computers, and their computers started talking back. We were enchanted, and we expected more.

We got it. Technology companies scrambled to stay ahead, putting out rival products that outdid one another with each new release: voice, images, video. With nonstop one-upmanship, AI companies have presented each new product drop as a major breakthrough, reinforcing a widespread faith that this technology would just keep getting better. Boosters told us that progress was exponential. They posted charts plotting how far we’d come since last year’s models: Look how the line goes up! Generative AI could do anything, it seemed.

Well, 2025 has been a year of reckoning. 


This story is part of MIT Technology Review’s Hype Correction package, a series that resets expectations about what AI is, what it makes possible, and where we go next.


For a start, the heads of the top AI companies made promises they couldn’t keep. They told us that generative AI would replace the white-collar workforce, bring about an age of abundance, make scientific discoveries, and help find new cures for disease. FOMO across the world’s economies, at least in the Global North, made CEOs tear up their playbooks and try to get in on the action.

That’s when the shine started to come off. Though the technology may have been billed as a universal multitool that could revamp outdated business processes and cut costs, a number of studies published this year suggest that firms are failing to make the AI pixie dust work its magic. Surveys and trackers from a range of sources, including the US Census Bureau and Stanford University, have found that business uptake of AI tools is stalling. And when the tools do get tried out, many projects stay stuck in the pilot stage. Without broad buy-in across the economy it is not clear how the big AI companies will ever recoup the incredible amounts they’ve already spent in this race. 

At the same time, updates to the core technology are no longer the step changes they once were.

The highest-profile example of this was the botched launch of GPT-5 in August. Here was OpenAI, the firm that had ignited (and to a large extent sustained) the current boom, set to release a brand-new generation of its technology. OpenAI had been hyping GPT-5 for months: “PhD-level expert in anything,” CEO Sam Altman crowed. On another occasion Altman posted, without comment, an image of the Death Star from Star Wars, which OpenAI stans took to be a symbol of ultimate power: Coming soon! Expectations were huge.

And yet, when it landed, GPT-5 seemed to be—more of the same? What followed was the biggest vibe shift since ChatGPT first appeared three years ago. “The era of boundary-breaking advancements is over,” Yannic Kilcher, an AI researcher and popular YouTuber, announced in a video posted two days after GPT-5 came out: “AGI is not coming. It seems very much that we’re in the Samsung Galaxy era of LLMs.”

A lot of people (me included) have made the analogy with phones. For a decade or so, smartphones were the most exciting consumer tech in the world. Today, new products drop from Apple or Samsung with little fanfare. While superfans pore over small upgrades, to most people this year’s iPhone now looks and feels a lot like last year’s iPhone. Is that where we are with generative AI? And is it a problem? Sure, smartphones have become the new normal. But they changed the way the world works, too.

To be clear, the last few years have been filled with genuine “Wow” moments, from the stunning leaps in the quality of video generation models to the problem-solving chops of so-called reasoning models to the world-class competition wins of the latest coding and math models. But this remarkable technology is only a few years old, and in many ways it is still experimental. Its successes come with big caveats.

Perhaps we need to readjust our expectations.

The big reset

Let’s be careful here: The pendulum from hype to anti-hype can swing too far. It would be rash to dismiss this technology just because it has been oversold. The knee-jerk response when AI fails to live up to its hype is to say that progress has hit a wall. But that misunderstands how research and innovation in tech work. Progress has always moved in fits and starts. There are ways over, around, and under walls.

Take a step back from the GPT-5 launch. It came hot on the heels of a series of remarkable models that OpenAI had shipped in the previous months, including o1 and o3 (first-of-their-kind reasoning models that introduced the industry to a whole new paradigm) and Sora 2, which raised the bar for video generation once again. That doesn’t sound like hitting a wall to me.

AI is really good! Look at Nano Banana Pro, the new image generation model from Google DeepMind that can turn a book chapter into an infographic, and much more. It’s just there—for free—on your phone.

And yet you can’t help but wonder: When the wow factor is gone, what’s left? How will we view this technology a year or five from now? Will we think it was worth the colossal costs, both financial and environmental? 

With that in mind, here are four ways to think about the state of AI at the end of 2025: The start of a much-needed hype correction.

01: LLMs are not everything

In some ways, it is the hype around large language models, not AI as a whole, that needs correcting. It has become obvious that LLMs are not the doorway to artificial general intelligence, or AGI, a hypothetical technology that some insist will one day be able to do any (cognitive) task a human can.

Even an AGI evangelist like Ilya Sutskever, chief scientist and cofounder at the AI startup Safe Superintelligence and former chief scientist and cofounder at OpenAI, now highlights the limitations of LLMs, a technology he had a huge hand in creating. LLMs are very good at learning how to do a lot of specific tasks, but they do not seem to learn the principles behind those tasks, Sutskever said in an interview with Dwarkesh Patel in November.

It’s the difference between learning how to solve a thousand different algebra problems and learning how to solve any algebra problem. “The thing which I think is the most fundamental is that these models somehow just generalize dramatically worse than people,” Sutskever said.

It’s easy to imagine that LLMs can do anything because their use of language is so compelling. It is astonishing how well this technology can mimic the way people write and speak. And we are hardwired to see intelligence in things that behave in certain ways—whether it’s there or not. In other words, we have built machines with humanlike behavior and cannot resist seeing a humanlike mind behind them.

That’s understandable. LLMs have been part of mainstream life for only a few years. But in that time, marketers have preyed on our shaky sense of what the technology can really do, pumping up expectations and turbocharging the hype. As we live with this technology and come to understand it better, those expectations should fall back down to earth.  

02: AI is not a quick fix to all your problems

In July, researchers at MIT published a study that became a tentpole talking point in the disillusionment camp. The headline result was that a whopping 95% of businesses that had tried using AI had found zero value in it.  

The general thrust of that claim was echoed by other research, too. In November, a study by researchers at Upwork, a company that runs an online marketplace for freelancers, found that agents powered by top LLMs from OpenAI, Google DeepMind, and Anthropic failed to complete many straightforward workplace tasks by themselves.

This is miles off Altman’s prediction: “We believe that, in 2025, we may see the first AI agents ‘join the workforce’ and materially change the output of companies,” he wrote on his personal blog in January.

But what gets missed in that MIT study is that the researchers’ measure of success was pretty narrow. That 95% failure rate accounts for companies that had tried to implement bespoke AI systems but had not yet scaled them beyond the pilot stage after six months. It shouldn’t be too surprising that a lot of experiments with experimental technology don’t pan out straight away.

That number also does not include the use of LLMs by employees outside of official pilots. The MIT researchers found that around 90% of the companies they surveyed had a kind of AI shadow economy where workers were using personal chatbot accounts. But the value of that shadow economy was not measured.  

When the Upwork study looked at how well agents completed tasks together with people who knew what they were doing, success rates shot up. The takeaway seems to be that a lot of people are figuring out for themselves how AI might help them with their jobs.

That fits with something the AI researcher and influencer (and coiner of the term “vibe coding”) Andrej Karpathy has noted: Chatbots are better than the average human at a lot of different things (think of giving legal advice, fixing bugs, doing high school math), but they are not better than an expert human. Karpathy suggests this may be why chatbots have proved popular with individual consumers, helping non-experts with everyday questions and tasks, but they have not upended the economy, which would require outperforming skilled employees at their jobs.

That may change. For now, don’t be surprised that AI has not (yet) had the impact on jobs that boosters said it would. AI is not a quick fix, and it cannot replace humans. But there’s a lot to play for. The ways in which AI could be integrated into everyday workflows and business pipelines are still being tried out.   

03: Are we in a bubble? (If so, what kind of bubble?)

If AI is a bubble, is it like the subprime mortgage bubble of 2008 or the internet bubble of 2000? Because there’s a big difference.

The subprime bubble wiped out a big part of the economy, because when it burst it left nothing behind except debt and overvalued real estate. The dot-com bubble wiped out a lot of companies, which sent ripples across the world, but it left behind the infant internet—an international network of cables and a handful of startups, like Google and Amazon, that became the tech giants of today.  

Then again, maybe we’re in a bubble unlike either of those. After all, there’s no real business model for LLMs right now. We don’t yet know what the killer app will be, or if there will even be one. 

And many economists are concerned about the unprecedented amounts of money being sunk into the infrastructure required to build capacity and serve the projected demand. But what if that demand doesn’t materialize? Add to that the weird circularity of many of those deals—with Nvidia paying OpenAI to pay Nvidia, and so on—and it’s no surprise everybody’s got a different take on what’s coming. 

Some investors remain sanguine. In an interview with the Technology Business Programming Network podcast in November, Glenn Hutchins, cofounder of Silver Lake Partners, a major international private equity firm, gave a few reasons not to worry. “Every one of these data centers—almost all of them—has a solvent counterparty that is contracted to take all the output they’re built to suit,” he said. In other words, it’s not a case of “Build it and they’ll come”—the customers are already locked in. 

And, he pointed out, one of the biggest of those solvent counterparties is Microsoft. “Microsoft has the world’s best credit rating,” Hutchins said. “If you sign a deal with Microsoft to take the output from your data center, Satya is good for it.”

Many CEOs will be looking back at the dot-com bubble and trying to learn its lessons. Here’s one way to see it: The companies that went bust back then didn’t have the money to last the distance. Those that survived the crash thrived.

With that lesson in mind, AI companies today are trying to pay their way through what may or may not be a bubble. Stay in the race; don’t get left behind. Even so, it’s a desperate gamble.

But there’s another lesson too. Companies that might look like sideshows can turn into unicorns fast. Take Synthesia, which makes avatar generation tools for businesses. Nathan Benaich, cofounder of the VC firm Air Street Capital, admits that when he first heard about the company a few years ago, back when fear of deepfakes was rife, he wasn’t sure what its tech was for and thought there was no market for it.

“We didn’t know who would pay for lip-synching and voice cloning,” he says. “Turns out there’s a lot of people who wanted to pay for it.” Synthesia now has around 55,000 corporate customers and brings in around $150 million a year. In October, the company was valued at $4 billion.

04: ChatGPT was not the beginning, and it won’t be the end

ChatGPT was the culmination of a decade’s worth of progress in deep learning, the technology that underpins all of modern AI. The seeds of deep learning itself were planted in the 1980s. The field as a whole goes back at least to the 1950s. If progress is measured against that backdrop, generative AI has barely got going.

Meanwhile, research is at a fever pitch. There are more high-quality submissions to the world’s major AI conferences than ever before. This year, organizers of some of those conferences resorted to turning down papers that reviewers had already approved, just to manage numbers. (At the same time, preprint servers like arXiv have been flooded with AI-generated research slop.)

“It’s back to the age of research again,” Sutskever said in that Dwarkesh interview, talking about the current bottleneck with LLMs. That’s not a setback; that’s the start of something new.

“There’s always a lot of hype beasts,” says Benaich. But he thinks there’s an upside to that: Hype attracts the money and talent needed to make real progress. “You know, it was only like two or three years ago that the people who built these models were basically research nerds that just happened on something that kind of worked,” he says. “Now everybody who’s good at anything in technology is working on this.”

Where do we go from here?

The relentless hype hasn’t come just from companies drumming up business for their vastly expensive new technologies. There’s a large cohort of people—inside and outside the industry—who want to believe in the promise of machines that can read, write, and think. It’s a wild decades-old dream

But the hype was never sustainable—and that’s a good thing. We now have a chance to reset expectations and see this technology for what it really is—assess its true capabilities, understand its flaws, and take the time to learn how to apply it in valuable (and beneficial) ways. “We’re still trying to figure out how to invoke certain behaviors from this insanely high-dimensional black box of information and skills,” says Benaich.

This hype correction was long overdue. But know that AI isn’t going anywhere. We don’t even fully understand what we’ve built so far, let alone what’s coming next.

AI might not be coming for lawyers’ jobs anytime soon

When the generative AI boom took off in 2022, Rudi Miller and her law school classmates were suddenly gripped with anxiety. “Before graduating, there was discussion about what the job market would look like for us if AI became adopted,” she recalls. 

So when it came time to choose a speciality, Miller—now a junior associate at the law firm Orrick—decided to become a litigator, the kind of lawyer who represents clients in court. She hoped the courtroom would be the last human stage. “Judges haven’t allowed ChatGPT-enabled robots to argue in court yet,” she says.


This story is part of MIT Technology Review’s Hype Correction package, a series that resets expectations about what AI is, what it makes possible, and where we go next.


She had reason to be worried. The artificial-intelligence job apocalypse seemed to be coming for lawyers. In March 2023, researchers reported that GPT-4 had smashed the Uniform Bar Exam. That same month, an industry report predicted that 44% of legal work could be automated. The legal tech industry entered a boom as law firms began adopting generative AI to mine mountains of documents and draft contracts, work ordinarily done by junior associates. Last month, the law firm Clifford Chance axed 10% of its staff in London, citing increased use of AI as a reason.

But for all the hype, LLMs are still far from thinking like lawyers—let alone replacing them. The models continue to hallucinate case citations, struggle to navigate gray areas of the law and reason about novel questions, and stumble when they attempt to synthesize information scattered across statutes, regulations, and court cases. And there are deeper institutional reasons to think the models could struggle to supplant legal jobs. While AI is reshaping the grunt work of the profession, the end of lawyers may not be arriving anytime soon.

The big experiment

The legal industry has long been defined by long hours and grueling workloads, so the promise of superhuman efficiency is appealing. Law firms are experimenting with general-purpose tools like ChatGPT and Microsoft Copilot and specialized legal tools like Harvey and Thomson Reuters’ CoCounsel, with some building their own in-house tools on top of frontier models. They’re rolling out AI boot camps and letting associates bill hundreds of hours to AI experimentation. As of 2024, 47.8% of attorneys at law firms employing 500 or more lawyers used AI, according to the American Bar Association. 

But lawyers say that LLMs are a long way from reasoning well enough to replace them. Lucas Hale, a junior associate at McDermott Will & Schulte, has been embracing AI for many routine chores. He uses Relativity to sift through long documents and Microsoft Copilot for drafting legal citations. But when he turns to ChatGPT with a complex legal question, he finds the chatbot spewing hallucinations, rambling off topic, or drawing a blank.

“In the case where we have a very narrow question or a question of first impression for the court,” he says, referring to a novel legal question that a court has never decided before, “that’s the kind of thinking that the tool can’t do.”

Much of Lucas’s work involves creatively applying the law to new fact patterns. “Right now, I don’t think very much of the work that litigators do, at least not the work that I do, can be outsourced to an AI utility,” he says.

Allison Douglis, a senior associate at Jenner & Block, uses an LLM to kick off her legal research. But the tools only take her so far. “When it comes to actually fleshing out and developing an argument as a litigator, I don’t think they’re there,” she says. She has watched the models hallucinate case citations and fumble through ambiguous areas of the law.

“Right now, I would much rather work with a junior associate than an AI tool,” she says. “Unless they get extraordinarily good very quickly, I can’t imagine that changing in the near future.”

Beyond the bar

The legal industry has seemed ripe for an AI takeover ever since ChatGPT’s triumph on the bar exam. But passing a standardized test isn’t the same as practicing law. The exam tests whether people can memorize legal rules and apply them to hypothetical situations—not whether they can exercise strategic judgment in complicated realities or craft arguments in uncharted legal territory. And models can be trained to ace benchmarks without genuinely improving their reasoning.

But new benchmarks are aiming to better measure the models’ ability to do legal work in the real world. The Professional Reasoning Benchmark, published by ScaleAI in November, evaluated leading LLMs on legal and financial tasks designed by professionals in the field. The study found that the models have critical gaps in their reliability for professional adoption, with the best-performing model scoring only 37% on the most difficult legal problems, meaning it met just over a third of possible points on the evaluation criteria. The models frequently made inaccurate legal judgments, and if they did reach correct conclusions, they did so through incomplete or opaque reasoning processes. 

“The tools actually are not there to basically substitute [for] your lawyer,” says Afra Feyza Akyurek, the lead author of the paper. “Even though a lot of people think that LLMs have a good grasp of the law, it’s still lagging behind.” 

The paper builds on other benchmarks measuring the models’ performance on economically valuable work. The AI Productivity Index, published by the data firm Mercor in September and updated in December, found that the models have “substantial limitations” in performing legal work. The best-performing model scored 77.9% on legal tasks, meaning it satisfied roughly four out of five evaluation criteria. A model with such a score might generate substantial economic value in some industries, but in fields where errors are costly, it may not be useful at all, the early version of the study noted.  

Professional benchmarks are a big step forward in evaluating the LLMs’ real-world capabilities, but they may still not capture what lawyers actually do. “These questions, although more challenging than those in past benchmarks, still don’t fully reflect the kinds of subjective, extremely challenging questions lawyers tackle in real life,” says Jon Choi, a law professor at the University of Washington School of Law, who coauthored a study on legal benchmarks in 2023. 

Unlike math or coding, in which LLMs have made significant progress, legal reasoning may be challenging for the models to learn. The law deals with messy real-world problems, riddled with ambiguity and subjectivity, that often have no right answer, says Choi. Making matters worse, a lot of legal work isn’t recorded in ways that can be used to train the models, he says. When it is, documents can span hundreds of pages, scattered across statutes, regulations, and court cases that exist in a complex hierarchy.  

But a more fundamental limitation might be that LLMs are simply not trained to think like lawyers. “The reasoning models still don’t fully reason about problems like we humans do,” says Julian Nyarko, a law professor at Stanford Law School. The models may lack a mental model of the world—the ability to simulate a scenario and predict what will happen—and that capability could be at the heart of complex legal reasoning, he says. It’s possible that the current paradigm of LLMs trained on next-word prediction gets us only so far.  

The jobs remain

Despite early signs that AI is beginning to affect entry-level workers, labor statistics have yet to show that lawyers are being displaced. 93.4% of law school graduates in 2024 were employed within 10 months of graduation—the highest rate on record—according to the National Association for Law Placement. The number of graduates working in law firms rose by 13% from 2023 to 2024. 

For now, law firms are slow to shrink their ranks. “We’re not reducing headcounts at this point,” said Amy Ross, the chief of attorney talent at the law firm Ropes & Gray. 

Even looking ahead, the effects could be incremental. “I will expect some impact on the legal profession’s labor market, but not major,” says Mert Demirer, an economist at MIT. “AI is going to be very useful in terms of information discovery and summary,” he says, but for complex legal tasks, “the law’s low risk tolerance, plus the current capabilities of AI, are going to make that case less automatable at this point.” Capabilities may evolve over time, but that’s a big unknown.

It’s not just that the models themselves are not ready to replace junior lawyers. Institutional barriers may also shape how AI is deployed. Higher productivity reduces billable hours, challenging the dominant business model of law firms. Liability looms large for lawyers, and clients may still want a human on the hook. Regulations could also constrain how lawyers use the technology.

Still, as AI takes on some associate work, law firms may need to reinvent their training system. “When junior work dries up, you have to have a more formal way of teaching than hoping that an apprenticeship works,” says Ethan Mollick, a management professor at the Wharton School of the University of Pennsylvania.

Zach Couger, a junior associate at McDermott Will & Schulte, leans on ChatGPT to comb through piles of contracts he once slogged through by hand. He can’t imagine going back to doing the job himself, but he wonders what he’s missing. 

“I’m worried that I’m not getting the same reps that senior attorneys got,” he says, referring to the repetitive training that has long defined the early experiences of lawyers. “On the other hand, it is very nice to have a semi–knowledge expert to just ask questions to that’s not a partner who’s also very busy.” 

Even though an AI job apocalypse looks distant, the uncertainty sticks with him. Lately, Couger finds himself staying up late, wondering if he could be part of the last class of associates at big law firms: “I may be the last plane out.”

What even is the AI bubble?

MIT Technology Review Explains: Let our writers untangle the complex, messy world of technology to help you understand what’s coming next. You can read more from the series here.

In July, a widely cited MIT study claimed that 95% of organizations that invested in generative AI were getting “zero return.” Tech stocks briefly plunged. While the study itself was more nuanced than the headlines, for many it still felt like the first hard data point confirming what skeptics had muttered for months: Hype around AI might be outpacing reality.

Then, in August, OpenAI CEO Sam Altman said what everyone in Silicon Valley had been whispering. “Are we in a phase where investors as a whole are overexcited about AI?” he said during a press dinner I attended. “My opinion is yes.” 


This story is part of MIT Technology Review’s Hype Correction package, a series that resets expectations about what AI is, what it makes possible, and where we go next.


He compared the current moment to the dot-com bubble. “When bubbles happen, smart people get overexcited about a kernel of truth,” he explained. “Tech was really important. The internet was a really big deal. People got overexcited.” 

With those comments, it was off to the races. The next day’s stock market dip was attributed to the sentiment he shared. The question “Are we in an AI bubble?” became inescapable.

Who thinks it is a bubble? 

The short answer: Lots of people. But not everyone agrees on who or what is overinflated. Tech leaders are using this moment of fear to take shots at their rivals and position themselves as clear winners on the other side. How they describe the bubble depends on where their company sits.

When I asked Meta CEO Mark Zuckerberg about the AI bubble in September, he ran through the historical analogies of past bubbles—railroads, fiber for the internet, the dot-com boom—and noted that in each case, “the infrastructure gets built out, people take on too much debt, and then you hit some blip … and then a lot of the companies end up going out of business.”

But Zuckerberg’s prescription wasn’t for Meta to pump the brakes. It was to keep spending: “If we end up misspending a couple of hundred billion dollars, I think that that is going to be very unfortunate, obviously. But I’d say the risk is higher on the other side.”

Bret Taylor, the chairman of OpenAI and CEO of the AI startup Sierra, uses a mental model from the late ’90s to help navigate this AI bubble. “I think the closest analogue to this AI wave is the dot-com boom or bubble, depending on your level of pessimism,” he recently told me. Back then, he explained, everyone knew e-commerce was going to be big, but there was a massive difference between Buy.com and Amazon. Taylor and others have been trying to position themselves as today’s Amazon.

Still others are arguing that the pain will be widespread. Google CEO Sundar Pichai told the BBC this month that there’s “some irrationality” in the current boom. Asked whether Google would be immune to a bubble bursting, he warned, “I think no company is going to be immune, including us.”

What’s inflating the bubble?

Companies are raising enormous sums of money and seeing unprecedented valuations. Much of that money, in turn, is going toward the buildout of massive data centers—on which both private companies like OpenAI and Elon Musk’s xAI and public ones such as Meta and Google are spending heavily. OpenAI has pledged that it will spend $500 billion to build AI data centers, more than 15 times what was spent on the Manhattan Project.

This eye-popping spending on AI data centers isn’t entirely detached from reality. The leaders of the top AI companies all stress that they’re bottlenecked by their limited access to computing power. You hear it constantly when you talk to them. Startups can’t get the GPU allocations they need. Hyperscalers are rationing compute, saving it for their best customers.

If today’s AI market is as brutally supply-constrained as tech leaders claim, perhaps aggressive infrastructure buildouts are warranted. But some of the numbers are too large to comprehend. Sam Altman has told employees that OpenAI’s moonshot goal is to build 250 gigawatts of computing capacity by 2033, roughly equaling India’s total national electricity demand. Such a plan would cost more than $12 trillion by today’s standards.

“I do think there’s real execution risk,” OpenAI president and cofounder Greg Brockman recently told me about the company’s aggressive infrastructure goals. “Everything we say about the future, we see that it’s a possibility. It is not a certainty, but I don’t think the uncertainty comes from scientific questions. It’s a lot of hard work.”

Who is exposed, and who is to blame?

It depends on who you ask. During the August press dinner, where he made his market-moving comments, Altman was blunt about where he sees the excess. He said it’s “insane” that some AI startups with “three people and an idea” are receiving funding at such high valuations. “That’s not rational behavior,” he said. “Someone’s gonna get burned there, I think.” As Safe Superintelligence cofounder (and former OpenAI chief scientist and cofounder) Ilya Sutskever put it on a recent podcast: Silicon Valley has “more companies than ideas.”

Demis Hassabis, the CEO of Google DeepMind, offered a similar diagnosis when I spoke with him in November. “It feels like there’s obviously a bubble in the private market,” he said. “You look at seed rounds with just nothing being tens of billions of dollars. That seems a little unsustainable.”

Anthropic CEO Dario Amodei also struck at his competition during the New York Times DealBook Summit in early December. He said he feels confident about the technology itself but worries about how others are behaving on the business side: “On the economic side, I have my concerns where, even if the technology fulfills all its promises, I think there are players in the ecosystem who, if they just make a timing error, they just get it off by a little bit, bad things could happen.”

He stopped short of naming Sam Altman and OpenAI, but the implication was clear. “There are some players who are YOLOing,” he said. “Let’s say you’re a person who just kind of constitutionally wants to YOLO things or just likes big numbers. Then you may turn the dial too far.”

Amodei also flagged “circular deals,” or the increasingly common arrangements where chip suppliers like Nvidia invest in AI companies that then turn around and spend those funds on their chips. Anthropic has done some of these, he said, though “not at the same scale as some other players.” (OpenAI is at the center of a number of such deals, as are Nvidia, CoreWeave, and a roster of other players.) 

The danger, he explained, comes when the numbers get too big: “If you start stacking these where they get to huge amounts of money, and you’re saying, ’By 2027 or 2028 I need to make $200 billion a year,’ then yeah, you can overextend yourself.”

Zuckerberg shared a similar message at an internal employee Q&A session after Meta’s last earnings call. He noted that unprofitable startups like OpenAI and Anthropic risk bankruptcy if they misjudge the timing of their investments, but Meta has the advantage of strong cash flow, he reassured staff.

How could a bubble burst?

My conversations with tech executives and investors suggest that the bubble will be most likely to pop if overfunded startups can’t turn a profit or grow into their lofty valuations. This bubble could last longer than than past ones, given that private markets aren’t traded on public markets and therefore move more slowly, but the ripple effects will still be profound when the end comes. 

If companies making grand commitments to data center buildouts no longer have the revenue growth to support them, the headline deals that have propped up the stock market come into question. Anthropic’s Amodei illustrated the problem during his DealBook Summit appearance, where he said the multi-year data center commitments he has to make combine with the company’s rapid, unpredictable revenue growth rate to create a “cone of uncertainty” about how much to spend.

The two most prominent private players in AI, OpenAI and Anthropic, have yet to turn a profit. A recent Deutsche Bank chart put the situation in stark historical context. Amazon burned through $3 billion before becoming profitable. Tesla, around $4 billion. Uber, $30 billion. OpenAI is projected to burn through $140 billion by 2029, while Anthropic is expected to burn $20 billion by 2027.

Consultants at Bain estimate that the wave of AI infrastructure spending will require $2 trillion in annual AI revenue by 2030 just to justify the investment. That’s more than the combined 2024 revenue of Amazon, Apple, Alphabet, Microsoft, Meta, and Nvidia. When I talk to leaders of these large tech companies, they all agree that their sprawling businesses can absorb an expensive miscalculation about the returns from their AI infrastructure buildouts. It’s all the other companies that are either highly leveraged with debt or just unprofitable—even OpenAI and Anthropic—that they worry about. 

Still, given the level of spending on AI, it still needs a viable business model beyond subscriptions, which won’t be able to  drive profits from billions of people’s eyeballs like the ad-driven businesses that have defined the last 20 years of the internet. Even the largest tech companies know they need to ship the world-changing agents they keep hyping: AI that can fully replace coworkers and complete tasks in the real world.

For now, investors are mostly buying into the hype of the powerful AI systems that these data center buildouts will supposedly unlock in the future. At some point the biggest spenders, like OpenAI, will need to show investors that the money spent on the infrastructure buildout was worth it.

There’s also still a lot of uncertainty about the technical direction that AI is heading in. LLMs are expected to remain critical to more advanced AI systems, but industry leaders can’t seem to agree on which additional breakthroughs are needed to achieve artificial general intelligence, or AGI. Some are betting on new kinds of AI that can understand the physical world, while others are focused on training AI to learn in a general way, like a human. In other words, what if all this unprecedented spending turns out to have been backing the wrong horse?

The question now

What makes this moment surreal is the honesty. The same people pouring billions into AI will openly tell you it might all come crashing down. 

Taylor framed it as two truths existing at once. “I think it is both true that AI will transform the economy,” he told me, “and I think we’re also in a bubble, and a lot of people will lose a lot of money. I think both are absolutely true at the same time.”

He compared it to the internet. Webvan failed, but Instacart succeeded years later with essentially the same idea. If you were an Amazon shareholder from its IPO to now, you’re looking pretty good. If you were a Webvan shareholder, you probably feel differently. 

“When the dust settles and you see who the winners are, society benefits from those inventions,” Amazon founder Jeff Bezos said in October. “This is real. The benefit to society from AI is going to be gigantic.”

Goldman Sachs says the AI boom now looks the way tech stocks did in 1997, several years before the dot-com bubble actually burst. The bank flagged five warning signs seen in the late 1990s that investors should watch now: peak investment spending, falling corporate profits, rising corporate debt, Fed rate cuts, and widening credit spreads. We’re probably not at 1999 levels yet. But the imbalances are building fast. Michael Burry, who famously called the 2008 housing bubble collapse (as seen in the film The Big Short), recently compared the AI boom to the 1990s dot-com bubble too.

Maybe AI will save us from our own irrational exuberance. But for now, we’re living in an in-between moment when everyone knows what’s coming but keeps blowing more air into the balloon anyway. As Altman put it that night at dinner: “Someone is going to lose a phenomenal amount of money. We don’t know who.”

Alex Heath is the author of Sources, a newsletter about the AI race, and the cohost of ACCESS, a podcast about the tech industry’s inside conversations. Previously, he was deputy editor at The Verge.