The first human test of a rejuvenation method will begin “shortly” 

When Elon Musk was at Davos last week, an interviewer asked him if he thought aging could be reversed. Musk said he hasn’t put much time into the problem but suspects it is “very solvable” and that when scientists discover why we age, it’s going to be something “obvious.”

Not long after, the Harvard professor and life-extension evangelist David Sinclair jumped into the conversation on X to strongly agree with the world’s richest man. “Aging has a relatively simple explanation and is apparently reversible,” wrote Sinclair. “Clinical Trials begin shortly.”

“ER-100?” Musk asked.

“Yes” replied Sinclair.

ER-100 turns out to be the code name of a treatment created by Life Biosciences, a small Boston startup that Sinclair cofounded and which he confirmed today has won FDA approval to proceed with the first targeted attempt at age reversal in human volunteers. 

The company plans to try to treat eye disease with a radical rejuvenation concept called “reprogramming” that has recently attracted hundreds of millions in investment for Silicon Valley firms like Altos Labs, New Limit, and Retro Biosciences, backed by many of the biggest names in tech. 

The technique attempts to restore cells to a healthier state by broadly resetting their epigenetic controls—switches on our genes that determine which are turned on and off.  

“Reprogramming is like the AI of the bio world. It’s the thing everyone is funding,” says Karl Pfleger, an investor who backs a smaller UK startup, Shift Bioscience. He says Sinclair’s company has recently been seeking additional funds to keep advancing its treatment.

Reprogramming is so powerful that it sometimes creates risks, even causing cancer in lab animals, but the version of the technique being advanced by Life Biosciences passed initial safety tests in animals.

But it’s still very complex. The trial will initially test the treatment on about a dozen patients with glaucoma, a condition where high pressure inside the eye damages the optic nerve. In the tests, viruses carrying three powerful reprogramming genes will be injected into one eye of each patient, according to a description of the study first posted in December. 

To help make sure the process doesn’t go too far, the reprogramming genes will be under the control of a special genetic switch that turns them on only while the patients take a low dose of the antibiotic doxycycline. Initially, they will take the antibiotic for about two months while the effects are monitored. 

Executives at the company have said for months that a trial could begin this year, sometimes characterizing it as a starting bell for a new era of age reversal. “It’s an incredibly big deal for us as an industry,” Michael Ringel, chief operating officer at Life Biosciences, said at an event this fall. “It’ll be the first time in human history, in the millennia of human history, of looking for something that rejuvenates … So watch this space.”

The technology is based on the Nobel Prize–winning discovery, 20 years ago, that introducing a few potent genes into a cell will cause it to turn back into a stem cell, just like those found in an early embryo that develop into the different specialized cell types. These genes, known as Yamanaka factors, have been likened to a “factory reset” button for cells. 

But they’re dangerous, too. When turned on in a living animal, they can cause an eruption of tumors.

That is what led scientists to a new idea, termed “partial” or “transient” reprogramming. The idea is to limit exposure to the potent genes—or use only a subset of them—in the hope of making cells act younger without giving them complete amnesia about what their role in the body is.

In 2020, Sinclair claimed that such partial reprogramming could restore vision to mice after their optic nerves were smashed, saying there was even evidence that the nerves regrew. His report appeared on the cover of the influential journal Nature alongside the headline “Turning Back Time.”

Not all scientists agree that reprogramming really counts as age reversal. But Sinclair has doubled down. He’s been advancing the theory that the gradual loss of correct epigenetic information in our cells is, in fact, the ultimate cause of aging—just the kind of root cause that Musk was alluding to.

“Elon does seem to be paying attention to the field and [is] seemingly in sync with [my theory],” Sinclair said in an email.

Reprogramming isn’t the first longevity fix championed by Sinclair, who’s written best-selling books and commands stratospheric fees on the longevity lecture circuit. Previously, he touted the longevity benefits of molecules called sirtuins as well as resveratrol, a molecule found in red wine. But some critics say he greatly exaggerates scientific progress, pushback that culminated in a 2024 Wall Street Journal story that dubbed him a “reverse-aging guru” whose companies “have not panned out.” 

Life Biosciences has been among those struggling companies. Initially formed in 2017, it at first had a strategy of launching subsidiaries, each intended to pursue one aspect of the aging problem. But after these made limited progress, in 2021 it hired a new CEO, Jerry McLaughlin, who has refocused its efforts  on Sinclair’s mouse vision results and the push toward a human trial. 

The company has discussed the possibility of reprogramming other organs, including the brain. And Ringel, like Sinclair, entertains the idea that someday even whole-body rejuvenation might be feasible. But for now, it’s better to think of the study as a proof of concept that’s still far from a fountain of youth. “The optimistic case is this solves some blindness for certain people and catalyzes work in other indications,” says Pfleger, the investor. “It’s not like your doctor will be writing a prescription for a pill that will rejuvenate you.”

Life’s treatment also relies on an antibiotic switching mechanism that, while often used in lab animals, hasn’t been tried in humans before. Since the switch is built from gene components taken from E. coli and the herpes virus, it’s possible that it could cause an immune reaction in humans, scientists say. 

“I was always thinking that for widespread use you might need a different system,” says Noah Davidsohn, who helped Sinclair implement the technique and is now chief scientist at a different company, Rejuvenate Bio. And Life’s choice of reprogramming factors—it’s picked three, which go by the acronym OSK—may also be risky. They are expected to turn on hundreds of other genes, and in some circumstances the combination can cause cells to revert to a very primitive, stem-cell-like state.

Other companies studying reprogramming say their focus is on researching which genes to use, in order to achieve time reversal without unwanted side effects. New Limit, which has been carrying out an extensive search for such genes, says it won’t be ready for a human study for two years. At Shift, experiments on animals are only beginning now.

“Are their factors the best version of rejuvenation? We don’t think they are. I think they are working with what they’ve got,” Daniel Ives, the CEO of Shift, says of Life Biosciences. “But I think they’re way ahead of anybody else in terms of getting into humans. They have found a route forward in the eye, which is a nice self-contained system. If it goes wrong, you’ve still got one left.”

Why chatbots are starting to check your age

This story originally appeared in The Algorithm, our weekly newsletter on AI. To get stories like this in your inbox first, sign up here.

How do tech companies check if their users are kids?

This question has taken on new urgency recently thanks to growing concern about the dangers that can arise when children talk to AI chatbots. For years Big Tech asked for birthdays (that one could make up) to avoid violating child privacy laws, but they weren’t required to moderate content accordingly. Two developments over the last week show how quickly things are changing in the US and how this issue is becoming a new battleground, even among parents and child-safety advocates.

In one corner is the Republican Party, which has supported laws passed in several states that require sites with adult content to verify users’ ages. Critics say this provides cover to block anything deemed “harmful to minors,” which could include sex education. Other states, like California, are coming after AI companies with laws to protect kids who talk to chatbots (by requiring them to verify who’s a kid). Meanwhile, President Trump is attempting to keep AI regulation a national issue rather than allowing states to make their own rules. Support for various bills in Congress is constantly in flux.

So what might happen? The debate is quickly moving away from whether age verification is necessary and toward who will be responsible for it. This responsibility is a hot potato that no company wants to hold.

In a blog post last Tuesday, OpenAI revealed that it plans to roll out automatic age prediction. In short, the company will apply a model that uses factors like the time of day, among others, to predict whether a person chatting is under 18. For those identified as teens or children, ChatGPT will apply filters to “reduce exposure” to content like graphic violence or sexual role-play. YouTube launched something similar last year. 

If you support age verification but are concerned about privacy, this might sound like a win. But there’s a catch. The system is not perfect, of course, so it could classify a child as an adult or vice versa. People who are wrongly labeled under 18 can verify their identity by submitting a selfie or government ID to a company called Persona. 

Selfie verifications have issues: They fail more often for people of color and those with certain disabilities. Sameer Hinduja, who co-directs the Cyberbullying Research Center, says the fact that Persona will need to hold millions of government IDs and masses of biometric data is another weak point. “When those get breached, we’ve exposed massive populations all at once,” he says. 

Hinduja instead advocates for device-level verification, where a parent specifies a child’s age when setting up the child’s phone for the first time. This information is then kept on the device and shared securely with apps and websites. 

That’s more or less what Tim Cook, the CEO of Apple, recently lobbied US lawmakers to call for. Cook was fighting lawmakers who wanted to require app stores to verify ages, which would saddle Apple with lots of liability. 

More signals of where this is all headed will come on Wednesday, when the Federal Trade Commission—the agency that would be responsible for enforcing these new laws—is holding an all-day workshop on age verification. Apple’s head of government affairs, Nick Rossi, will be there. He’ll be joined by higher-ups in child safety at Google and Meta, as well as a company that specializes in marketing to children.

The FTC has become increasingly politicized under President Trump (his firing of the sole Democratic commissioner was struck down by a federal court, a decision that is now pending review by the US Supreme Court). In July, I wrote about signals that the agency is softening its stance toward AI companies. Indeed, in December, the FTC overturned a Biden-era ruling against an AI company that allowed people to flood the internet with fake product reviews, writing that it clashed with President Trump’s AI Action Plan.

Wednesday’s workshop may shed light on how partisan the FTC’s approach to age verification will be. Red states favor laws that require porn websites to verify ages (but critics warn this could be used to block a much wider range of content). Bethany Soye, a Republican state representative who is leading an effort to pass such a bill in her state of South Dakota, is scheduled to speak at the FTC meeting. The ACLU generally opposes laws requiring IDs to visit websites and has instead advocated for an expansion of existing parental controls.

While all this gets debated, though, AI has set the world of child safety on fire. We’re dealing with increased generation of child sexual abuse material, concerns (and lawsuits) about suicides and self-harm following chatbot conversations, and troubling evidence of kids’ forming attachments to AI companions. Colliding stances on privacy, politics, free expression, and surveillance will complicate any effort to find a solution. Write to me with your thoughts. 

Inside OpenAI’s big play for science 

In the three years since ChatGPT’s explosive debut, OpenAI’s technology has upended a remarkable range of everyday activities at home, at work, in schools—anywhere people have a browser open or a phone out, which is everywhere.

Now OpenAI is making an explicit play for scientists. In October, the firm announced that it had launched a whole new team, called OpenAI for Science, dedicated to exploring how its large language models could help scientists and tweaking its tools to support them.

The last couple of months have seen a slew of social media posts and academic publications in which mathematicians, physicists, biologists, and others have described how LLMs (and OpenAI’s GPT-5 in particular) have helped them make a discovery or nudged them toward a solution they might otherwise have missed. In part, OpenAI for Science was set up to engage with this community.

And yet OpenAI is also late to the party. Google DeepMind, the rival firm behind groundbreaking scientific models such as AlphaFold and AlphaEvolve, has had an AI-for-science team for years. (When I spoke to Google DeepMind’s CEO and cofounder Demis Hassabis in 2023 about that team, he told me: “This is the reason I started DeepMind … In fact, it’s why I’ve worked my whole career in AI.”)

So why now? How does a push into science fit with OpenAI’s wider mission? And what exactly is the firm hoping to achieve?

I put these questions to Kevin Weil, a vice president at OpenAI who leads the new OpenAI for Science team, in an exclusive interview last week.

On mission

Weil is a product guy. He joined OpenAI a couple of years ago as chief product officer after being head of product at Twitter and Instagram. But he started out as a scientist. He got two-thirds of the way through a PhD in particle physics at Stanford University before ditching academia for the Silicon Valley dream. Weil is keen to highlight his pedigree: “I thought I was going to be a physics professor for the rest of my life,” he says. “I still read math books on vacation.”

Asked how OpenAI for Science fits with the firm’s existing lineup of white-collar productivity tools or the viral video app Sora, Weil recites the company mantra: “The mission of OpenAI is to try and build artificial general intelligence and, you know, make it beneficial for all of humanity.”

Just imagine the future impact this technology could have on science he says: New medicines, new materials, new devices. “Think about it helping us understand the nature of reality, helping us think through open problems. Maybe the biggest, most positive impact we’re going to see from AGI will actually be from its ability to accelerate science.”

He adds: “With GPT-5, we saw that becoming possible.” 

As Weil tells it, LLMs are now good enough to be useful scientific collaborators. They can spitball ideas, suggest novel directions to explore, and find fruitful parallels between new problems and old solutions published in obscure journals decades ago or in foreign languages.

That wasn’t the case a year or so ago. Since it announced its first so-called reasoning model—a type of LLM that can break down problems into multiple steps and work through them one by one—in December 2024, OpenAI has been pushing the envelope of what the technology can do. Reasoning models have made LLMs far better at solving math and logic problems than they used to be. “You go back a few years and we were all collectively mind-blown that the models could get an 800 on the SAT,” says Weil.

But soon LLMs were acing math competitions and solving graduate-level physics problems. Last year, OpenAI and Google DeepMind both announced that their LLMs had achieved gold-medal-level performance in the International Math Olympiad, one of the toughest math contests in the world. “These models are no longer just better than 90% of grad students,” says Weil. “They’re really at the frontier of human abilities.”

That’s a huge claim, and it comes with caveats. Still, there’s no doubt that GPT-5, which includes a reasoning model, is a big improvement on GPT-4 when it comes to complicated problem-solving. Measured against an industry benchmark known as GPQA, which includes more than 400 multiple-choice questions that test PhD-level knowledge in biology, physics, and chemistry, GPT-4 scores 39%, well below the human-expert baseline of around 70%. According to OpenAI, GPT-5.2 (the latest update to the model, released in December) scores 92%. 

Overhyped

The excitement is evident—and perhaps excessive. In October, senior figures at OpenAI, including Weil, boasted on X that GPT-5 had found solutions to several unsolved math problems. Mathematicians were quick to point out that in fact what GPT-5 appeared to have done was dig up existing solutions in old research papers, including at least one written in German. That was still useful, but it wasn’t the achievement OpenAI seemed to have claimed. Weil and his colleagues deleted their posts.

Now Weil is more careful. It is often enough to find answers that exist but have been forgotten, he says: “We collectively stand on the shoulders of giants, and if LLMs can kind of accumulate that knowledge so that we don’t spend time struggling on a problem that is already solved, that’s an acceleration all of its own.”

He plays down the idea that LLMs are about to come up with a game-changing new discovery. “I don’t think models are there yet,” he says. “Maybe they’ll get there. I’m optimistic that they will.”

But, he insists, that’s not the mission: “Our mission is to accelerate science. And I don’t think the bar for the acceleration of science is, like, Einstein-level reimagining of an entire field.”

For Weil, the question is this: “Does science actually happen faster because scientists plus models can do much more, and do it more quickly, than scientists alone? I think we’re already seeing that.”

In November, OpenAI published a series of anecdotal case studies contributed by scientists, both inside and outside the company, that illustrated how they had used GPT-5 and how it had helped. “Most of the cases were scientists that were already using GPT-5 directly in their research and had come to us one way or another saying, ‘Look at what I’m able to do with these tools,’” says Weil.

The key things that GPT-5 seems to be good at are finding references and connections to existing work that scientists were not aware of, which sometimes sparks new ideas; helping scientists sketch mathematical proofs; and suggesting ways for scientists to test hypotheses in the lab.  

“GPT 5.2 has read substantially every paper written in the last 30 years,” says Weil. “And it understands not just the field that a particular scientist is working in; it can bring together analogies from other, unrelated fields.”

“That’s incredibly powerful,” he continues. “You can always find a human collaborator in an adjacent field, but it’s difficult to find, you know, a thousand collaborators in all thousand adjacent fields that might matter. And in addition to that, I can work with the model late at night—it doesn’t sleep—and I can ask it 10 things in parallel, which is kind of awkward to do to a human.”

Solving problems

Most of the scientists OpenAI reached out to back up Weil’s position.

Robert Scherrer, a professor of physics and astronomy at Vanderbilt University, only played around with ChatGPT for fun (“I used to it rewrite the theme song for Gilligan’s Island in the style of Beowulf, which it did very well,” he tells me) until his Vanderbilt colleague Alex Lupsasca, a fellow physicist who now works at OpenAI, told him that GPT-5 had helped solve a problem he’d been working on.

Lupsasca gave Scherrer access to GPT-5 Pro, OpenAI’s $200-a-month premium subscription. “It managed to solve a problem that I and my graduate student could not solve despite working on it for several months,” says Scherrer.

It’s not perfect, he says: “GTP-5 still makes dumb mistakes. Of course, I do too, but the mistakes GPT-5 makes are even dumber.” And yet it keeps getting better, he says: “If current trends continue—and that’s a big if—I suspect that all scientists will be using LLMs soon.”

Derya Unutmaz, a professor of biology at the Jackson Laboratory, a nonprofit research institute, uses GPT-5 to brainstorm ideas, summarize papers, and plan experiments in his work studying the immune system. In the case study he shared with OpenAI, Unutmaz used GPT-5 to analyze an old data set that his team had previously looked at. The model came up with fresh insights and interpretations.  

“LLMs are already essential for scientists,” he says. “When you can complete analysis of data sets that used to take months, not using them is not an option anymore.”

Nikita Zhivotovskiy, a statistician at the University of California, Berkeley, says he has been using LLMs in his research since the first version of ChatGPT came out.

Like Scherrer, he finds LLMs most useful when they highlight unexpected connections between his own work and existing results he did not know about. “I believe that LLMs are becoming an essential technical tool for scientists, much like computers and the internet did before,” he says. “I expect a long-term disadvantage for those who do not use them.”

But he does not expect LLMs to make novel discoveries anytime soon. “I have seen very few genuinely fresh ideas or arguments that would be worth a publication on their own,” he says. “So far, they seem to mainly combine existing results, sometimes incorrectly, rather than produce genuinely new approaches.”

I also contacted a handful of scientists who are not connected to OpenAI.

Andy Cooper, a professor of chemistry at the University of Liverpool and director of the Leverhulme Research Centre for Functional Materials Design, is less enthusiastic. “We have not found, yet, that LLMs are fundamentally changing the way that science is done,” he says. “But our recent results suggest that they do have a place.”

Cooper is leading a project to develop a so-called AI scientist that can fully automate parts of the scientific workflow. He says that his team doesn’t use LLMs to come up with ideas. But the tech is starting to prove useful as part of a wider automated system where an LLM can help direct robots, for example.

“My guess is that LLMs might stick more in robotic workflows, at least initially, because I’m not sure that people are ready to be told what to do by an LLM,” says Cooper. “I’m certainly not.”

Making errors

LLMs may be becoming more and more useful, but caution is still key. In December, Jonathan Oppenheim, a scientist who works on quantum mechanics, called out a mistake that had made its way into a scientific journal. “OpenAI leadership are promoting a paper in Physics Letters B where GPT-5 proposed the main idea—possibly the first peer-reviewed paper where an LLM generated the core contribution,” Oppenheim posted on X. “One small problem: GPT-5’s idea tests the wrong thing.”

He continued: “GPT-5 was asked for a test that detects nonlinear theories. It provided a test that detects nonlocal ones. Related-sounding, but different. It’s like asking for a COVID test, and the LLM cheerfully hands you a test for chickenpox.”

It is clear that a lot of scientists are finding innovative and intuitive ways to engage with LLMs. It is also clear that the technology makes mistakes that can be so subtle even experts miss them.

Part of the problem is the way ChatGPT can flatter you into letting down your guard. As Oppenheim put it: “A core issue is that LLMs are being trained to validate the user, while science needs tools that challenge us.” In an extreme case, one individual (who was not a scientist) was persuaded by ChatGPT into thinking for months that he’d invented a new branch of mathematics.

Of course, Weil is well aware of the problem of hallucination. But he insists that newer models are hallucinating less and less. Even so, focusing on hallucination might be missing the point, he says.

“One of my teammates here, an ex math professor, said something that stuck with me,” says Weil. “He said: ‘When I’m doing research, if I’m bouncing ideas off a colleague, I’m wrong 90% of the time and that’s kind of the point. We’re both spitballing ideas and trying to find something that works.’”

“That’s actually a desirable place to be,” says Weil. “If you say enough wrong things and then somebody stumbles on a grain of truth and then the other person seizes on it and says, ‘Oh, yeah, that’s not quite right, but what if we—’ You gradually kind of find your trail through the woods.”

This is Weil’s core vision for OpenAI for Science. GPT-5 is good, but it is not an oracle. The value of this technology is in pointing people in new directions, not coming up with definitive answers, he says.

In fact, one of the things OpenAI is now looking at is making GPT-5 dial down its confidence when it delivers a response. Instead of saying Here’s the answer, it might tell scientists: Here’s something to consider.

“That’s actually something that we are spending a bunch of time on,” says Weil. “Trying to make sure that the model has some sort of epistemological humility.”

Watching the watchers

Another thing OpenAI is looking at is how to use GPT-5 to fact-check GPT-5. It’s often the case that if you feed one of GPT-5’s answers back into the model, it will pick it apart and highlight mistakes.

“You can kind of hook the model up as its own critic,” says Weil. “Then you can get a workflow where the model is thinking and then it goes to another model, and if that model finds things that it could improve, then it passes it back to the original model and says, ‘Hey, wait a minute—this part wasn’t right, but this part was interesting. Keep it.’ It’s almost like a couple of agents working together and you only see the output once it passes the critic.”

What Weil is describing also sounds a lot like what Google DeepMind did with AlphaEvolve, a tool that wrapped the firms LLM, Gemini, inside a wider system that filtered out the good responses from the bad and fed them back in again to be improved on. Google DeepMind has used AlphaEvolve to solve several real-world problems.

OpenAI faces stiff competition from rival firms, whose own LLMs can do most, if not all, of the things it claims for its own models. If that’s the case, why should scientists use GPT-5 instead of Gemini or Anthropic’s Claude, families of models that are themselves improving every year? Ultimately, OpenAI for Science may be as much an effort to plant a flag in new territory as anything else. The real innovations are still to come. 

“I think 2026 will be for science what 2025 was for software engineering,” says Weil. “At the beginning of 2025, if you were using AI to write most of your code, you were an early adopter. Whereas 12 months later, if you’re not using AI to write most of your code, you’re probably falling behind. We’re now seeing those same early flashes for science as we did for code.”

He continues: “I think that in a year, if you’re a scientist and you’re not heavily using AI, you’ll be missing an opportunity to increase the quality and pace of your thinking.”

America’s coming war over AI regulation

MIT Technology Review’s What’s Next series looks across industries, trends, and technologies to give you a first look at the future. You can read the rest of them here.

In the final weeks of 2025, the battle over regulating artificial intelligence in the US reached a boiling point. On December 11, after Congress failed twice to pass a law banning state AI laws, President Donald Trump signed a sweeping executive order seeking to handcuff states from regulating the booming industry. Instead, he vowed to work with Congress to establish a “minimally burdensome” national AI policy, one that would position the US to win the global AI race. The move marked a qualified victory for tech titans, who have been marshaling multimillion-dollar war chests to oppose AI regulations, arguing that a patchwork of state laws would stifle innovation.

In 2026, the battleground will shift to the courts. While some states might back down from passing AI laws, others will charge ahead, buoyed by mounting public pressure to protect children from chatbots and rein in power-hungry data centers. Meanwhile, dueling super PACs bankrolled by tech moguls and AI-safety advocates will pour tens of millions into congressional and state elections to seat lawmakers who champion their competing visions for AI regulation. 

Trump’s executive order directs the Department of Justice to establish a task force that sues states whose AI laws clash with his vision for light-touch regulation. It also directs the Department of Commerce to starve states of federal broadband funding if their AI laws are “onerous.” In practice, the order may target a handful of laws in Democratic states, says James Grimmelmann, a law professor at Cornell Law School. “The executive order will be used to challenge a smaller number of provisions, mostly relating to transparency and bias in AI, which tend to be more liberal issues,” Grimmelmann says.

For now, many states aren’t flinching. On December 19, New York’s governor, Kathy Hochul, signed the Responsible AI Safety and Education (RAISE) Act, a landmark law requiring AI companies to publish the protocols used to ensure the safe development of their AI models and report critical safety incidents. On January 1, California debuted the nation’s first frontier AI safety law, SB 53—which the RAISE Act was modeled on—aimed at preventing catastrophic harms such as biological weapons or cyberattacks. While both laws were watered down from earlier iterations to survive bruising industry lobbying, they struck a rare, if fragile, compromise between tech giants and AI safety advocates.

If Trump targets these hard-won laws, Democratic states like California and New York will likely take the fight to court. Republican states like Florida with vocal champions for AI regulation might follow suit. Trump could face an uphill battle. “The Trump administration is stretching itself thin with some of its attempts to effectively preempt [legislation] via executive action,” says Margot Kaminski, a law professor at the University of Colorado Law School. “It’s on thin ice.”

But Republican states that are anxious to stay off Trump’s radar or can’t afford to lose federal broadband funding for their sprawling rural communities might retreat from passing or enforcing AI laws. Win or lose in court, the chaos and uncertainty could chill state lawmaking. Paradoxically, the Democratic states that Trump wants to rein in—armed with big budgets and emboldened by the optics of battling the administration—may be the least likely to budge.

In lieu of state laws, Trump promises to create a federal AI policy with Congress. But the gridlocked and polarized body won’t be delivering a bill this year. In July, the Senate killed a moratorium on state AI laws that had been inserted into a tax bill, and in November, the House scrapped an encore attempt in a defense bill. In fact, Trump’s bid to strong-arm Congress with an executive order may sour any appetite for a bipartisan deal. 

The executive order “has made it harder to pass responsible AI policy by hardening a lot of positions, making it a much more partisan issue,” says Brad Carson, a former Democratic congressman from Oklahoma who is building a network of super PACs backing candidates who support AI regulation. “It hardened Democrats and created incredible fault lines among Republicans,” he says. 

While AI accelerationists in Trump’s orbit—AI and crypto czar David Sacks among them—champion deregulation, populist MAGA firebrands like Steve Bannon warn of rogue superintelligence and mass unemployment. In response to Trump’s executive order, Republican state attorneys general signed a bipartisan letter urging the FCC not to supersede state AI laws.

With Americans increasingly anxious about how AI could harm mental health, jobs, and the environment, public demand for regulation is growing. If Congress stays paralyzed, states will be the only ones acting to keep the AI industry in check. In 2025, state legislators introduced more than 1,000 AI bills, and nearly 40 states enacted over 100 laws, according to the National Conference of State Legislatures.

Efforts to protect children from chatbots may inspire rare consensus. On January 7, Google and Character Technologies, a startup behind the companion chatbot Character.AI, settled several lawsuits with families of teenagers who killed themselves after interacting with the bot. Just a day later, the Kentucky attorney general sued Character Technologies, alleging that the chatbots drove children to suicide and other forms of self-harm. OpenAI and Meta face a barrage of similar suits. Expect more to pile up this year. Without AI laws on the books, it remains to be seen how product liability laws and free speech doctrines apply to these novel dangers. “It’s an open question what the courts will do,” says Grimmelmann. 

While litigation brews, states will move to pass child safety laws, which are exempt from Trump’s proposed ban on state AI laws. On January 9, OpenAI inked a deal with a former foe, the child-safety advocacy group Common Sense Media, to back a ballot initiative in California called the Parents & Kids Safe AI Act, setting guardrails around how chatbots interact with children. The measure proposes requiring AI companies to verify users’ age, offer parental controls, and undergo independent child-safety audits. If passed, it could be a blueprint for states across the country seeking to crack down on chatbots. 

Fueled by widespread backlash against data centers, states will also try to regulate the resources needed to run AI. That means bills requiring data centers to report on their power and water use and foot their own electricity bills. If AI starts to displace jobs at scale, labor groups might float AI bans in specific professions. A few states concerned about the catastrophic risks posed by AI may pass safety bills mirroring SB 53 and the RAISE Act. 

Meanwhile, tech titans will continue to use their deep pockets to crush AI regulations. Leading the Future, a super PAC backed by OpenAI president Greg Brockman and the venture capital firm Andreessen Horowitz, will try to elect candidates who endorse unfettered AI development to Congress and state legislatures. They’ll follow the crypto industry’s playbook for electing allies and writing the rules. To counter this, super PACs funded by Public First, an organization run by Carson and former Republican congressman Chris Stewart of Utah, will back candidates advocating for AI regulation. We might even see a handful of candidates running on anti-AI populist platforms.

In 2026, the slow, messy process of American democracy will grind on. And the rules written in state capitals could decide how the most disruptive technology of our generation develops far beyond America’s borders, for years to come.

Measles is surging in the US. Wastewater tracking could help.

This week marked a rather unpleasant anniversary: It’s a year since Texas reported a case of measles—the start of a significant outbreak that ended up spreading across multiple states. Since the start of January 2025, there have been over 2,500 confirmed cases of measles in the US. Three people have died.

As vaccination rates drop and outbreaks continue, scientists have been experimenting with new ways to quickly identify new cases and prevent the disease from spreading. And they are starting to see some success with wastewater surveillance.

After all, wastewater contains saliva, urine, feces, shed skin, and more. You could consider it a rich biological sample. Wastewater analysis helped scientists understand how covid was spreading during the pandemic. It’s early days, but it is starting to help us get a handle on measles.

Globally, there has been some progress toward eliminating measles, largely thanks to vaccination efforts. Such efforts led to an 88% drop in measles deaths between 2000 and 2024, according to the World Health Organization. It estimates that “nearly 59 million lives have been saved by the measles vaccine” since 2000.

Still, an estimated 95,000 people died from measles in 2024 alone—most of them young children. And cases are surging in Europe, Southeast Asia, and the Eastern Mediterranean region.

Last year, the US saw the highest levels of measles in decades. The country is on track to lose its measles elimination status—a sorry fate that met Canada in November after the country recorded over 5,000 cases in a little over a year.

Public health efforts to contain the spread of measles—which is incredibly contagious—typically involve clinical monitoring in health-care settings, along with vaccination campaigns. But scientists have started looking to wastewater, too.

Along with various bodily fluids, we all shed viruses and bacteria into wastewater, whether that’s through brushing our teeth, showering, or using the toilet. The idea of looking for these pathogens in wastewater to track diseases has been around for a while, but things really kicked into gear during the covid-19 pandemic, when scientists found that the coronavirus responsible for the disease was shed in feces.

This led Marlene Wolfe of Emory University and Alexandria Boehm of Stanford University to establish WastewaterSCAN, an academic-led program developed to analyze wastewater samples across the US. Covid was just the beginning, says Wolfe. “Over the years we have worked to expand what can be monitored,” she says.

Two years ago, for a previous edition of the Checkup, Wolfe told Cassandra Willyard that wastewater surveillance of measles was “absolutely possible,” as the virus is shed in urine. The hope was that this approach could shed light on measles outbreaks in a community, even if members of that community weren’t able to access health care and receive an official diagnosis. And that it could highlight when and where public health officials needed to act to prevent measles from spreading. Evidence that it worked as an effective public health measure was, at the time, scant.

Since then, she and her colleagues have developed a test to identify measles RNA. They trialed it at two wastewater treatment plants in Texas between December 2024 and May 2025. At each site, the team collected samples two or three times a week and tested them for measles RNA.

Over that period, the team found measles RNA in 10.5% of the samples they collected, as reported in a preprint paper published at medRxiv in July and currently under review at a peer-reviewed journal. The first detection came a week before the first case of measles was officially confirmed in the area. That’s promising—it suggests that wastewater surveillance might pick up measles cases early, giving public health officials a head start in efforts to limit any outbreaks.

There are more promising results from a team in Canada. Mike McKay and Ryland Corchis-Scott at the University of Windsor in Ontario and their colleagues have also been testing wastewater samples for measles RNA. Between February and November 2025, the team collected samples from a wastewater treatment facility serving over 30,000 people in Leamington, Ontario. 

These wastewater tests are somewhat limited—even if they do pick up measles, they won’t tell you who has measles, where exactly infections are occurring, or even how many people are infected. McKay and his colleagues have begun to make some progress here. In addition to monitoring the large wastewater plant, the team used tampons to soak up wastewater from a hospital lateral sewer.

They then compared their measles test results with the number of clinical cases in that hospital. This gave them some idea of the virus’s “shedding rate.” When they applied this to the data collected from the Leamington wastewater treatment facility, the team got estimates of measles cases that were much higher than the figures officially reported. 

Their findings track with the opinions of local health officials (who estimate that the true number of cases during the outbreak was around five to 10 times higher than the confirmed case count), the team members wrote in a paper published on medRxiv a couple of weeks ago.

There will always be limits to wastewater surveillance. “We’re looking at the pool of waste of an entire community, so it’s very hard to pull in information about individual infections,” says Corchis-Scott.

Wolfe also acknowledges that “we have a lot to learn about how we can best use the tools so they are useful.” But her team at WastewaterSCAN has been testing wastewater across the US for measles since May last year. And their findings are published online and shared with public health officials.

In some cases, the findings are already helping inform the response to measles. “We’ve seen public health departments act on this data,” says Wolfe. Some have issued alerts, or increased vaccination efforts in those areas, for example. “[We’re at] a point now where we really see public health departments, clinicians, [and] families using that information to help keep themselves and their communities safe,” she says.

McKay says his team has stopped testing for measles because the Ontario outbreak “has been declared over.” He says testing would restart if and when a single new case of measles is confirmed in the region, but he also thinks that his research makes a strong case for maintaining a wastewater surveillance system for measles.

McKay wonders if this approach might help Canada regain its measles elimination status. “It’s sort of like [we’re] a pariah now,” he says. If his approach can help limit measles outbreaks, it could be “a nice tool for public health in Canada to [show] we’ve got our act together.”

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.

Yann LeCun’s new venture is a contrarian bet against large language models  

Yann LeCun is a Turing Award recipient and a top AI researcher, but he has long been a contrarian figure in the tech world. He believes that the industry’s current obsession with large language models is wrong-headed and will ultimately fail to solve many pressing problems. 

Instead, he thinks we should be betting on world models—a different type of AI that accurately reflects the dynamics of the real world. He is also a staunch advocate for open-source AI and criticizes the closed approach of frontier labs like OpenAI and Anthropic. 

Perhaps it’s no surprise, then, that he recently left Meta, where he had served as chief scientist for FAIR (Fundamental AI Research), the company’s influential research lab that he founded. Meta has struggled to gain much traction with its open-source AI model Llama and has seen internal shake-ups, including the controversial acquisition of ScaleAI. 

LeCun sat down with MIT Technology Review in an exclusive online interview from his Paris apartment to discuss his new venture, life after Meta, the future of artificial intelligence, and why he thinks the industry is chasing the wrong ideas. 

Both the questions and answers below have been edited for clarity and brevity.

You’ve just announced a new company, Advanced Machine Intelligence (AMI).  Tell me about the big ideas behind it.

It is going to be a global company, but headquartered in Paris. You pronounce it “ami”—it means “friend” in French. I am excited. There is a very high concentration of talent in Europe, but it is not always given a proper environment to flourish. And there is certainly a huge demand from the industry and governments for a credible frontier AI company that is neither Chinese nor American. I think that is going to be to our advantage.

So an ambitious alternative to the US-China binary we currently have. What made you want to pursue that third path?

Well, there are sovereignty issues for a lot of countries, and they want some control over AI. What I’m advocating is that AI is going to become a platform, and most platforms tend to become open-source. Unfortunately, that’s not really the direction the American industry is taking. Right? As the competition increases, they feel like they have to be secretive. I think that is a strategic mistake.

It’s certainly true for OpenAI, which went from very open to very closed, and Anthropic has always been closed. Google was sort of a little open. And then Meta, we’ll see. My sense is that it’s not going in a positive direction at this moment.

Simultaneously, China has completely embraced this open approach. So all leading open-source AI platforms are Chinese, and the result is that academia and startups, outside of the US, have basically embraced Chinese models. There’s nothing wrong with that—you know, Chinese models are good. Chinese engineers and scientists are great. But you know, if there is a future in which all of our information diet is being mediated by AI assistance, and the choice is either English-speaking models produced by proprietary companies always close to the US or Chinese models which may be open-source but need to be fine-tuned so that they answer questions about Tiananmen Square in 1989—you know, it’s not a very pleasant and engaging future. 

They [the future models] should be able to be fine-tuned by anyone and produce a very high diversity of AI assistance, with different linguistic abilities and value systems and political biases and centers of interests. You need high diversity of assistance for the same reason that you need high diversity of press. 

That is certainly a compelling pitch. How are investors buying that idea so far?

They really like it. A lot of venture capitalists are very much in favor of this idea of open-source, because they know for a lot of small startups, they really rely on open-source models. They don’t have the means to train their own model, and it’s kind of dangerous for them strategically to embrace a proprietary model.

You recently left Meta. What’s your view on the company and Mark Zuckerberg’s leadership? There’s a perception that Meta has fumbled its AI advantage.

I think FAIR [LeCun’s lab at Meta] was extremely successful in the research part. Where Meta was less successful is in picking up on that research and pushing it into practical technology and products. Mark made some choices that he thought were the best for the company. I may not have agreed with all of them. For example, the robotics group at FAIR was let go, which I think was a strategic mistake. But I’m not the director of FAIR. People make decisions rationally, and there’s no reason to be upset.

So, no bad blood? Could Meta be a future client for AMI?

Meta might be our first client! We’ll see. The work we are doing is not in direct competition. Our focus on world models for the physical world is very different from their focus on generative AI and LLMs.

You were working on AI long before LLMs became a mainstream approach. But since ChatGPT broke out, LLMs have become almost synonymous with AI.

Yes, and we are going to change that. The public face of AI, perhaps, is mostly LLMs and chatbots of various types. But the latest ones of those are not pure LLMs. They are LLM plus a lot of things, like perception systems and code that solves particular problems. So we are going to see LLMs as kind of the orchestrator in systems, a little bit.

Beyond LLMs, there is a lot of AI that is behind the scenes that runs a big chunk of our society. There are assistance driving programs in a car, quick-turn MRI images, algorithms that drive social media—that’s all AI. 

You have been vocal in arguing that LLMs can only get us so far. Do you think LLMs are overhyped these days? Can you summarize to our readers why you believe that LLMs are not enough?

There is a sense in which they have not been overhyped, which is that they are extremely useful to a lot of people, particularly if you write text, do research, or write code. LLMs manipulate language really well. But people have had this illusion, or delusion, that it is a matter of time until we can scale them up to having human-level intelligence, and that is simply false.

The truly difficult part is understanding the real world. This is the Moravec Paradox (a phenomenon observed by the computer scientist Hans Moravec in 1988): What’s easy for us, like perception and navigation, is hard for computers, and vice versa. LLMs are limited to the discrete world of text. They can’t truly reason or plan, because they lack a model of the world. They can’t predict the consequences of their actions. This is why we don’t have a domestic robot that is as agile as a house cat, or a truly autonomous car.

We are going to have AI systems that have humanlike and human-level intelligence, but they’re  not going to be built on LLMs, and it’s not going to happen next year or two years from now. It’s going to take a while. There are major conceptual breakthroughs that have to happen before we have AI systems that have human-level intelligence. And that is what I’ve been working on. And this company, AMI Labs, is focusing on the next generation.

And your solution is world models and JEPA architecture (JEPA, or “joint embedding predictive architecture,” is a learning framework that trains AI models to understand the world, created by LeCun while he was at Meta). What’s the elevator pitch?

The world is unpredictable. If you try to build a generative model that predicts every detail of the future, it will fail.  JEPA is not generative AI. It is a system that learns to represent videos really well. The key is to learn an abstract representation of the world and make predictions in that abstract space, ignoring the details you can’t predict. That’s what JEPA does. It learns the underlying rules of the world from observation, like a baby learning about gravity. This is the foundation for common sense, and it’s the key to building truly intelligent systems that can reason and plan in the real world. The most exciting work so far on this is coming from academia, not the big industrial labs stuck in the LLM world.

The lack of non-text data has been a problem in taking AI systems further in understanding the physical world. JEPA is trained on videos. What other kinds of data will you be using?

Our systems will be trained on video, audio, and sensor data of all kinds—not just text. We are working with various modalities, from the position of a robot arm to lidar data to audio. I’m also involved in a project using JEPA to model complex physical and clinical phenomena. 

What are some of the concrete, real-world applications you envision for world models?

The applications are vast. Think about complex industrial processes where you have thousands of sensors, like in a jet engine, a steel mill, or a chemical factory. There is no technique right now to build a complete, holistic model of these systems. A world model could learn this from the sensor data and predict how the system will behave. Or think of smart glasses that can watch what you’re doing, identify your actions, and then predict what you’re going to do next to assist you. This is what will finally make agentic systems reliable. An agentic system that is supposed to take actions in the world cannot work reliably unless it has a world model to predict the consequences of its actions. Without it, the system will inevitably make mistakes. This is the key to unlocking everything from truly useful domestic robots to Level 5 autonomous driving.

Humanoid robots are all the rage recently, especially ones built by companies from China. What’s your take?

There are all these brute-force ways to get around the limitations of learning systems, which require inordinate amounts of training data to do anything. So the secret of all the companies getting robots to do kung fu or dance is they are all planned in advance. But frankly, nobody—absolutely nobody—knows how to make those robots smart enough to be useful. Take my word for it. 


You need an enormous amount of tele-operation training data for every single task, and when the environment changes a little bit, it doesn’t generalize very well. What this tells us is we are missing something very big. The reason why a 17-year-old can learn to drive in 20 hours is because they already know a lot about how the world behaves. If we want a generally useful domestic robot, we need systems to have a kind of good understanding of the physical world. That’s not going to happen until we have good world models and planning.

There’s a growing sentiment that it’s becoming harder to do foundational AI research in academia because of the massive computing resources required. Do you think the most important innovations will now come from industry?

No. LLMs are now technology development, not research. It’s true that it’s very difficult for academics to play an important role there because of the requirements for computation, data access, and engineering support. But it’s a product now. It’s not something academia should even be interested in. It’s like speech recognition in the early 2010s—it was a solved problem, and the progress was in the hands of industry. 

What academia should be working on is long-term objectives that go beyond the capabilities of current systems. That’s why I tell people in universities: Don’t work on LLMs. There is no point. You’re not going to be able to rival what’s going on in industry. Work on something else. Invent new techniques. The breakthroughs are not going to come from scaling up LLMs. The most exciting work on world models is coming from academia, not the big industrial labs. The whole idea of using attention circuits in neural nets came out of the University of Montreal. That research paper started the whole revolution. Now that the big companies are closing up, the breakthroughs are going to slow down. Academia needs access to computing resources, but they should be focused on the next big thing, not on refining the last one.

You wear many hats: professor, researcher, educator, public thinker … Now you just took on a new one. What is that going to look like for you?

I am going to be the executive chairman of the company, and Alex LeBrun [a former colleague from Meta AI] will be the CEO. It’s going to be LeCun and LeBrun—it’s nice if you pronounce it the French way.

I am going to keep my position at NYU. I teach one class per year, I have PhD students and postdocs, so I am going to be kept based in New York. But I go to Paris pretty often because of my lab. 

Does that mean that you won’t be very hands-on?

Well, there’s two ways to be hands-on. One is to manage people day to day, and another is to actually get your hands dirty in research projects, right? 

I can do management, but I don’t like doing it. This is not my mission in life. It’s really to make science and technology progress as far as we can, inspire other people to work on things that are interesting, and then contribute to those things. So that has been my role at Meta for the last seven years. I founded FAIR and led it for four to five years. I kind of hated being a director. I am not good at this career management thing. I’m much more visionary and a scientist.

What makes Alex LeBrun the right fit?

Alex is a serial entrepreneur; he’s built three successful AI companies. The first he sold to Microsoft; the second to Facebook, where he was head of the engineering division of FAIR in Paris. He then left to create Nabla, a very successful company in the health-care space. When I offered him the chance to join me in this effort, he accepted almost immediately. He has the experience to build the company, allowing me to focus on science and technology. 

You’re headquartered in Paris. Where else do you plan to have offices?

We are a global company. There’s going to be an office in North America.

New York, hopefully?

New York is great. That’s where I am, right? And it’s not Silicon Valley. Silicon Valley is a bit of a monoculture.

What about Asia? I’m guessing Singapore, too?

Probably, yeah. I’ll let you guess. 

And how are you attracting talent?

We don’t have any issue recruiting. There are a lot of people in the AI research community who think the future of AI is in world models. Those people, regardless of pay package, will be motivated to come work for us because they believe in the technological future we are building. We’ve already recruited people from places like OpenAI, Google DeepMind, and xAI.

I heard that Saining Xie, a prominent researcher from NYU and Google DeepMind, might be joining you as chief scientist. Any comments?

Saining is a brilliant researcher. I have a lot of admiration for him. I hired him twice already. I hired him at FAIR, and I convinced my colleagues at NYU that we should hire him there. Let’s just say I have a lot of respect for him.

When will you be ready to share more details about AMI Labs, like financial backing or other core members?

Soon—in February, maybe. I’ll let you know.

Why 2026 is a hot year for lithium

In 2026, I’m going to be closely watching the price of lithium.

If you’re not in the habit of obsessively tracking commodity markets, I certainly don’t blame you. (Though the news lately definitely makes the case that minerals can have major implications for global politics and the economy.)

But lithium is worthy of a close look right now.

The metal is crucial for lithium-ion batteries used in phones and laptops, electric vehicles, and large-scale energy storage arrays on the grid. Prices have been on quite the roller coaster over the last few years, and they’re ticking up again after a low period. What happens next could have big implications for mining and battery technology.

Before we look ahead, let’s take a quick trip down memory lane. In 2020, global EV sales started to really take off, driving up demand for the lithium used in their batteries. Because of that growing demand and a limited supply, prices shot up dramatically, with lithium carbonate going from under $10 per kilogram to a high of roughly $70 per kilogram in just two years.

And the tech world took notice. During those high points, there was a ton of interest in developing alternative batteries that didn’t rely on lithium. I was writing about sodium-based batteries, iron-air batteries, and even experimental ones that were made with plastic.

Researchers and startups were also hunting for alternative ways to get lithium, including battery recycling and processing methods like direct lithium extraction (more on this in a moment).

But soon, prices crashed back down to earth. We saw lower-than-expected demand for EVs in the US, and developers ramped up mining and processing to meet demand. Through late 2024 and 2025, lithium carbonate was back around $10 a kilogram again. Avoiding lithium or finding new ways to get it suddenly looked a lot less crucial.

That brings us to today: lithium prices are ticking up again. So far, it’s nowhere close to the dramatic rise we saw a few years ago, but analysts are watching closely. Strong EV growth in China is playing a major role—EVs still make up about 75% of battery demand today. But growth in stationary storage, batteries for the grid, is also contributing to rising demand for lithium in both China and the US.

Higher prices could create new opportunities. The possibilities include alternative battery chemistries, specifically sodium-ion batteries, says Evelina Stoikou, head of battery technologies and supply chains at BloombergNEF. (I’ll note here that we recently named sodium-ion batteries to our 2026 list of 10 Breakthrough Technologies.)

It’s not just batteries, though. Another industry that could see big changes from a lithium price swing: extraction.

Today, most lithium is mined from rocks, largely in Australia, before being shipped to China for processing. There’s a growing effort to process the mineral in other places, though, as countries try to create their own lithium supply chains. Tesla recently confirmed that it’s started production at its lithium refinery in Texas, which broke ground in 2023. We could see more investment in processing plants outside China if prices continue to climb.

This could also be a key year for direct lithium extraction, as Katie Brigham wrote in a recent story for Heatmap. That technology uses chemical or electrochemical processes to extract lithium from brine (salty water that’s usually sourced from salt lakes or underground reservoirs), quickly and cheaply. Companies including Lilac Solutions, Standard Lithium, and Rio Tinto are all making plans or starting construction on commercial facilities this year in the US and Argentina. 

If there’s anything I’ve learned about following batteries and minerals over the past few years, it’s that predicting the future is impossible. But if you’re looking for tea leaves to read, lithium prices deserve a look. 

This article is from The Spark, MIT Technology Review’s weekly climate newsletter. To receive it in your inbox every Wednesday, sign up here.

Dispatch from Davos: hot air, big egos and cold flexes

This story first appeared in The Debrief, our subscriber-only newsletter about the biggest news in tech by Mat Honan, Editor in Chief. Subscribe to read the next edition as soon as it lands.

It’s supposed to be frigid in Davos this time of year. Part of the charm is seeing the world’s elite tromp through the streets in respectable suits and snow boots. But this year it’s positively balmy, with highs in the mid 30s, or a little over 1°C. The current conditions when I flew out of New York were colder, and definitely snowier. I’m told this is due to something called a föhn, a dry warm wind that’s been blowing across the Alps. 

I’m no meteorologist, but it’s true that there is a lot of hot air here. 

On Wednesday, President Donald Trump arrived in Davos to address the assembly, and held forth for more than 90 minutes, weaving his way through remarks about the economy, Greenland, windmills, Switzerland, Rolexes, Venezuela, and drug prices. It was a talk lousy with gripes, grievances and outright falsehoods. 

One small example: Trump made a big deal of claiming that China, despite being the world leader in manufacturing windmill componentry, doesn’t actually use them for energy generation itself. In fact, it is the world leader in generation, as well. 

I did not get to watch this spectacle from the room itself. Sad! 

By the time I got to the Congress Hall where the address was taking place, there was already a massive scrum of people jostling to get in. 

I had just wrapped up moderating a panel on “the intelligent co-worker,” ie: AI agents in the workplace. I was really excited for this one as the speakers represented a diverse cross-section of the AI ecosystem. Christoph Schweizer, CEO of BCG had the macro strategic view; Enrique Lores, HP CEO, could speak to both hardware and large enterprises, Workera CEO Kian Katanforoosh has the inside view on workforce training and transformation, Manjul Shah CEO of Hippocratic AI addressed working in the high stakes field of healthcare, and Kate Kallot CEO of Amini AI gave perspective on the global south and Africa in particular. 

Interestingly, most of the panel shied away from using the term co-worker, and some even rejected the term agent. But the view they painted was definitely one of humans working alongside AI and augmenting what’s possible. Shah, for example, talked about having agents call 16,000 people in Texas during a heat wave to perform a health and safety check. It was a great discussion. You can watch the whole thing here

But by the time it let out, the push of people outside the Congress Hall was already too thick for me to get in. In fact I couldn’t even get into a nearby overflow room. I did make it into a third overflow room, but getting in meant navigating my way through a mass of people, so jammed in tight together that it reminded me of being at a Turnstile concert. 

The speech blew way past its allotted time, and I had to step out early to get to yet another discussion. Walking through the halls while Trump spoke was a truly surreal experience. He had truly captured the attention of the gathered global elite. I don’t think I saw a single person not starting at a laptop, or phone or iPad, all watching the same video. 

Trump is speaking again on Thursday in a previously unscheduled address to announce his Board of Peace. As is (I heard) Elon Musk. So it’s shaping up to be another big day for elite attention capture. 

I should say, though, there are elites, and then there are elites. And there are all sorts of ways of sorting out who is who. Your badge color is one of them. I have a white participant badge, because I was moderating panels. This gets you in pretty much anywhere and therefore is its own sort of status symbol. Where you are staying is another. I’m in Klosters, a neighboring town that’s a 40 minute train ride away from the Congress Centre. Not so elite. 

There are more subtle ways of status sorting, too. Yesterday I learned that when people ask if this is your first time at Davos, it’s sometimes meant as a way of trying to figure out how important you are. If you’re any kind of big deal, you’ve probably been coming for years. 

But the best one I’ve yet encountered happened when I made small talk with the woman sitting next to me as I changed back into my snow boots. It turned out that, like me, she lived in California–at least part time. “But I don’t think I’ll stay there much longer,” she said, “due to the new tax law.” This was just an ice cold flex. 

Because California’s newly proposed tax legislation? It only targets billionaires. 

Welcome to Davos.

“Dr. Google” had its issues. Can ChatGPT Health do better?

<div data-chronoton-summary="

OpenAI’s health play The AI giant launched ChatGPT Health amid reports that 230 million people already ask ChatGPT health-related questions weekly. The new feature isn’t a separate model but rather a wrapper that can access medical records and fitness data when permitted.

  • Better than Dr. Google? Early research suggests LLMs might outperform traditional web searches for medical information. One study found GPT-4o, an earlier model, answered realistic health questions correctly about 85% of the time, potentially reducing misinformation compared to unfiltered internet searches.
  • Hallucination concerns persist Earlier versions of GPT have been shown to fabricate definitions for fake medical conditions and accept incorrect information in users’ prompts. This sycophantic tendency could be particularly dangerous when users seek to confirm biases against legitimate medical advice.
  • Trust vs. expertise The articulate, confident communication style of ChatGPT might lead users to trust it over qualified medical professionals. While OpenAI emphasizes the tool is meant to supplement rather than replace doctors, researchers worry some patients will rely too heavily on AI guidance.
  • ” data-chronoton-post-id=”1131692″ data-chronoton-expand-collapse=”1″ data-chronoton-analytics-enabled=”1″>

    For the past two decades, there’s been a clear first step for anyone who starts experiencing new medical symptoms: Look them up online. The practice was so common that it gained the pejorative moniker “Dr. Google.” But times are changing, and many medical-information seekers are now using LLMs. According to OpenAI, 230 million people ask ChatGPT health-related queries each week. 

    That’s the context around the launch of OpenAI’s new ChatGPT Health product, which debuted earlier this month. It landed at an inauspicious time: Two days earlier, the news website SFGate had broken the story of Sam Nelson, a teenager who died of an overdose last year after extensive conversations with ChatGPT about how best to combine various drugs. In the wake of both pieces of news, multiple journalists questioned the wisdom of relying for medical advice on a tool that could cause such extreme harm.

    Though ChatGPT Health lives in a separate sidebar tab from the rest of ChatGPT, it isn’t a new model. It’s more like a wrapper that provides one of OpenAI’s preexisting models with guidance and tools it can use to provide health advice—including some that allow it to access a user’s electronic medical records and fitness app data, if granted permission. There’s no doubt that ChatGPT and other large language models can make medical mistakes, and OpenAI emphasizes that ChatGPT Health is intended as an additional support, rather than a replacement for one’s doctor. But when doctors are unavailable or unable to help, people will turn to alternatives. 

    Some doctors see LLMs as a boon for medical literacy. The average patient might struggle to navigate the vast landscape of online medical information—and, in particular, to distinguish high-quality sources from polished but factually dubious websites—but LLMs can do that job for them, at least in theory. Treating patients who had searched for their symptoms on Google required “a lot of attacking patient anxiety [and] reducing misinformation,” says Marc Succi, an associate professor at Harvard Medical School and a practicing radiologist. But now, he says, “you see patients with a college education, a high school education, asking questions at the level of something an early med student might ask.”

    The release of ChatGPT Health, and Anthropic’s subsequent announcement of new health integrations for Claude, indicate that the AI giants are increasingly willing to acknowledge and encourage health-related uses of their models. Such uses certainly come with risks, given LLMs’ well-documented tendencies to agree with users and make up information rather than admit ignorance. 

    But those risks also have to be weighed against potential benefits. There’s an analogy here to autonomous vehicles: When policymakers consider whether to allow Waymo in their city, the key metric is not whether its cars are ever involved in accidents but whether they cause less harm than the status quo of relying on human drivers. If Dr. ChatGPT is an improvement over Dr. Google—and early evidence suggests it may be—it could potentially lessen the enormous burden of medical misinformation and unnecessary health anxiety that the internet has created.

    Pinning down the effectiveness of a chatbot such as ChatGPT or Claude for consumer health, however, is tricky. “It’s exceedingly difficult to evaluate an open-ended chatbot,” says Danielle Bitterman, the clinical lead for data science and AI at the Mass General Brigham health-care system. Large language models score well on medical licensing examinations, but those exams use multiple-choice questions that don’t reflect how people use chatbots to look up medical information.

    Sirisha Rambhatla, an assistant professor of management science and engineering at the University of Waterloo, attempted to close that gap by evaluating how GPT-4o responded to licensing exam questions when it did not have access to a list of possible answers. Medical experts who evaluated the responses scored only about half of them as entirely correct. But multiple-choice exam questions are designed to be tricky enough that the answer options don’t give them entirely away, and they’re still a pretty distant approximation for the sort of thing that a user would type into ChatGPT.

    A different study, which tested GPT-4o on more realistic prompts submitted by human volunteers, found that it answered medical questions correctly about 85% of the time. When I spoke with Amulya Yadav, an associate professor at Pennsylvania State University who runs the Responsible AI for Social Emancipation Lab and led the study, he made it clear that he wasn’t personally a fan of patient-facing medical LLMs. But he freely admits that, technically speaking, they seem up to the task—after all, he says, human doctors misdiagnose patients 10% to 15% of the time. “If I look at it dispassionately, it seems that the world is gonna change, whether I like it or not,” he says.

    For people seeking medical information online, Yadav says, LLMs do seem to be a better choice than Google. Succi, the radiologist, also concluded that LLMs can be a better alternative to web search when he compared GPT-4’s responses to questions about common chronic medical conditions with the information presented in Google’s knowledge panel, the information box that sometimes appears on the right side of the search results.

    Since Yadav’s and Succi’s studies appeared online, in the first half of 2025, OpenAI has released multiple new versions of GPT, and it’s reasonable to expect that GPT-5.2 would perform even better than its predecessors. But the studies do have important limitations: They focus on straightforward, factual questions, and they examine only brief interactions between users and chatbots or web search tools. Some of the weaknesses of LLMs—most notably their sycophancy and tendency to hallucinate—might be more likely to rear their heads in more extensive conversations and with people who are dealing with more complex problems. Reeva Lederman, a professor at the University of Melbourne who studies technology and health, notes that patients who don’t like the diagnosis or treatment recommendations that they receive from a doctor might seek out another opinion from an LLM—and the LLM, if it’s sycophantic, might encourage them to reject their doctor’s advice.

    Some studies have found that LLMs will hallucinate and exhibit sycophancy in response to health-related prompts. For example, one study showed that GPT-4 and GPT-4o will happily accept and run with incorrect drug information included in a user’s question. In another, GPT-4o frequently concocted definitions for fake syndromes and lab tests mentioned in the user’s prompt. Given the abundance of medically dubious diagnoses and treatments floating around the internet, these patterns of LLM behavior could contribute to the spread of medical misinformation, particularly if people see LLMs as trustworthy.

    OpenAI has reported that the GPT-5 series of models is markedly less sycophantic and prone to hallucination than their predecessors, so the results of these studies might not apply to ChatGPT Health. The company also evaluated the model that powers ChatGPT Health on its responses to health-specific questions, using their publicly available HeathBench benchmark. HealthBench rewards models that express uncertainty when appropriate, recommend that users seek medical attention when necessary, and refrain from causing users unnecessary stress by telling them their condition is more serious that it truly is. It’s reasonable to assume that the model underlying ChatGPT Health exhibited those behaviors in testing, though Bitterman notes that some of the prompts in HealthBench were generated by LLMs, not users, which could limit how well the benchmark translates into the real world.

    An LLM that avoids alarmism seems like a clear improvement over systems that have people convincing themselves they have cancer after a few minutes of browsing. And as large language models, and the products built around them, continue to develop, whatever advantage Dr. ChatGPT has over Dr. Google will likely grow. The introduction of ChatGPT Health is certainly a move in that direction: By looking through your medical records, ChatGPT can potentially gain far more context about your specific health situation than could be included in any Google search, although numerous experts have cautioned against giving ChatGPT that access for privacy reasons.

    Even if ChatGPT Health and other new tools do represent a meaningful improvement over Google searches, they could still conceivably have a negative effect on health overall. Much as automated vehicles, even if they are safer than human-driven cars, might still prove a net negative if they encourage people to use public transit less, LLMs could undermine users’ health if they induce people to rely on the internet instead of human doctors, even if they do increase the quality of health information available online.

    Lederman says that this outcome is plausible. In her research, she has found that members of online communities centered on health tend to put their trust in users who express themselves well, regardless of the validity of the information they are sharing. Because ChatGPT communicates like an articulate person, some people might trust it too much, potentially to the exclusion of their doctor. But LLMs are certainly no replacement for a human doctor—at least not yet.

    All anyone wants to talk about at Davos is AI and Donald Trump

    This story first appeared in The Debrief, our subscriber-only newsletter about the biggest news in tech by Mat Honan, Editor in Chief. Subscribe to read the next edition as soon as it lands.

    Hello from the World Economic Forum annual meeting in Davos, Switzerland. I’ve been here for two days now, attending meetings, speaking on panels, and basically trying to talk to anyone I can. And as far as I can tell, the only things anyone wants to talk about are AI and Trump. 

    Davos is physically defined by the Congress Center, where the official WEF sessions take place, and the Promenade, a street running through the center of the town lined with various “houses”—mostly retailers that are temporarily converted into meeting hubs for various corporate or national sponsors. So there is a Ukraine House, a Brazil House, Saudi House, and yes, a USA House (more on that tomorrow). There are a handful of media houses from the likes of CNBC and the Wall Street Journal. Some houses are devoted to specific topics; for example, there’s one for science and another for AI. 

    But like everything else in 2026, the Promenade is dominated by tech companies. At one point I realized that literally everything I could see, in a spot where the road bends a bit, was a tech company house. Palantir, Workday, Infosys, Cloudflare, C3.ai. Maybe this should go without saying, but their presence, both in the houses and on the various stages and parties and platforms here at the World Economic Forum, really drove home to me how utterly and completely tech has captured the global economy. 

    While the houses host events and serve as networking hubs, the big show is inside the Congress Center. On Tuesday morning, I kicked off my official Davos experience there by moderating a panel with the CEOs of Accenture, Aramco, Royal Philips, and Visa. The topic was scaling up AI within organizations. All of these leaders represented companies that have gone from pilot projects to large internal implementations. It was, for me, a fascinating conversation. You can watch the whole thing here, but my takeaway was that while there are plenty of stories about AI being overhyped (including from us), it is certainly having substantive effects at large companies.  

    Aramco CEO Amin Nasser, for example, described how that company has found $3 billion to $5 billion in cost savings by improving the efficiency of its operations. Royal Philips CEO Roy Jakobs described how it was allowing health-care practitioners to spend more time with patients by doing things such as automated note-taking. (This really resonated with me, as my wife is a pediatrics nurse, and for decades now I’ve heard her talk about how much of her time is devoted to charting.) And Visa CEO Ryan McInerney talked about his company’s push into agentic commerce and the way that will play out for consumers, small businesses, and the global payments industry. 

    To elaborate a little on that point, McInerney painted a picture of commerce where agents won’t just shop for things you ask them to, which will be basically step one, but will eventually be able to shop for things based on your preferences and previous spending patterns. This could be your regular grocery shopping, or even a vacation getaway. That’s going to require a lot of trust and authentication to protect both merchants and consumers, but it is clear that the steps into agentic commerce we saw in 2025 were just baby ones. There are much bigger ones coming for 2026. (Coincidentally, I had a discussion with a senior executive from Mastercard on Monday, who made several of the same points.) 

    But the thing that really resonated with me from the panel was a comment from Accenture CEO Julie Sweet, who has a view not only of her own large org but across a spectrum of companies: “It’s hard to trust something until you understand it.” 

    I felt that neatly summed up where we are as a society with AI. 

    Clearly, other people feel the same. Before the official start of the conference I was at AI House for a panel. The place was packed. There was a consistent, massive line to get in, and once inside, I literally had to muscle my way through the crowd. Everyone wanted to get in. Everyone wanted to talk about AI. 

    (A quick aside on what I was doing there: I sat on a panel called “Creativity and Identity in the Age of Memes and Deepfakes,” led by Atlantic CEO Nicholas Thompson; it featured the artist Emi Kusano, who works with AI, and Duncan Crabtree-Ireland, the chief negotiator for SAG-AFTRA, who has been at the center of a lot of the debates about AI in the film and gaming industries. I’m not going to spend much time describing it because I’m already running long, but it was a rip-roarer of a panel. Check it out.)

    And, okay. Sigh. Donald Trump. 

    The president is due here Wednesday, amid threats of seizing Greenland and fears that he’s about to permanently fracture the NATO alliance. While AI is all over the stages, Trump is dominating all the side conversations. There are lots of little jokes. Nervous laughter. Outright anger. Fear in the eyes. It’s wild. 

    These conversations are also starting to spill out into the public. Just after my panel on Tuesday, I headed to a pavilion outside the main hall in the Congress Center. I saw someone coming down the stairs with a small entourage, who was suddenly mobbed by cameras and phones. 

    Moments earlier in the same spot, the press had been surrounding David Beckham, shouting questions at him. So I was primed for it to be another celebrity—after all, captains of industry were everywhere you looked. I mean, I had just bumped into Eric Schmidt, who was literally standing in line in front of me at the coffee bar. Davos is weird. 

    But in fact, it was Gavin Newsom, the governor of California, who is increasingly seen as the leading voice of the Democratic opposition to President Trump, and a likely contender, or even front-runner, in the race to replace him. Because I live in San Francisco I’ve encountered Newsom many times, dating back to his early days as a city supervisor before he was even mayor. I’ve rarely, rarely, seen him quite so worked up as he was on Tuesday. 

    Among other things, he called Trump a narcissist who follows “the law of the jungle, the rule of Don” and compared him to a T-Rex, saying, “You mate with him or he devours you.” And he was just as harsh on the world leaders, many of whom are gathered in Davos, calling them “pathetic” and saying he should have brought knee pads for them. 

    Yikes.

    There was more of this sentiment, if in more measured tones, from Canadian prime minister Mark Carney during his address at Davos. While I missed his remarks, they had people talking. “If we’re not at the table, we’re on the menu,” he argued.