The News,
Decoded.

Oh, splendid. The AI safety darling that swore it was different has confidentially filed for a US IPO, leapfrogging OpenAI in the race to cash out. 'Confidentially' — because nothing says 'trust us, we're the responsible ones' like keeping your financials hidden from the public until the last possible moment. Anthropic, founded by defectors who claimed their former employer was too reckless, now beats them to the public markets. How's that for competitive pressure? The 'future business shape of artificial intelligence' is apparently an IPO filing that nobody gets to read until regulators decide to slip it under the door.

The irony is almost too rich to stomach. Anthropic spent years lecturing about alignment, about safety-first, about not repeating OpenAI's mistakes. And now they're racing to go public first, because the existential threat to humanity clearly needs quarterly earnings calls and shareholder activism. One imagines the boardroom pitch: 'We'll align the models after we align the share price.' The confidential filing is a masterstroke — why face scrutiny now when you can spring your prospectus on an unsuspecting world later?

The race to define AI's future is now a stock exchange contest. Anthropic's early lead means they get to set the tone: hype first, safety later. The article says this will 'define the future business shape of artificial intelligence.' Indeed, that shape appears to be a dollar sign. As one insider probably whispered, 'We'll align the models after we align the share price.' Time to crack open a warm can of existential dread and toast to the public good. Cheers.

Well, well, well — the European Commission has announced, with the solemnity of a papal bull, that Anthropic will let EU cybersecurity agency ENISA poke at its frontier model Mythos as part of 'Project Glasswing.' Sounds wonderfully transparent, doesn't it? Glasswing — like a butterfly with see-through wings, or like the carefully curated window dressing of a lab that wants to look open while keeping its crown jewels under lock and key. ENISA gets to play vulnerability researcher on a model Anthropic still controls completely. How generous. One imagines the handshake agreement includes a chaperone for every prompt sent to Mythos, a non-disclosure agreement thicker than a GDPR handbook, and the implicit understanding that 'vulnerability research' means finding minor bugs in the sandbox, not peering into the weights themselves.

Make no mistake: this is not openness. This is a PR exercise dressed up as cybersecurity cooperation. Anthropic gets to say 'we're working with EU regulators' without actually surrendering any real control. Project Glasswing sounds like a butterfly, but it's more of a gilded cage — ENISA gets to flutter around inside, but the door remains firmly shut. The European Commission, meanwhile, gets to claim it's engaging with frontier labs, all while the AI Act meanders through endless trilogues. Everyone wins, except anyone hoping for genuine transparency into how these models work or what they know.

And the timing? Impeccable. Just as the EU's AI Act sputters toward enforcement, Anthropic offers a bone to the regulators — access to one model, for one agency, for one purpose. The message is clear: 'Trust us, we'll invite you in when it suits us.' Meanwhile, open-source models proliferate without any such oversight, and the frontier labs continue to race ahead. Project Glasswing: the most carefully managed vulnerability disclosure in history. Bra-vo.

Oh, splendid. We've reached the point where AI is now writing scientific papers — and inventing citations from journals that don't exist. That's not peer-reviewed research; that's a literary collaboration with a hallucinating chatbot.

A specific case drives the point home: an AI tool fabricated a source in a scientific paper. Just what the peer-review process needed: a hallucination layer. We've spent billions on models that can pass the bar exam, but ask them to generate a citation for 'Smith et al., 2022' and they'll cheerfully invent something — author, journal, volume, page. It's like hiring a librarian who sets the books on fire and then writes a glowing review of the smoke.

At this rate, medical research will be built on foundations of pure fantasy. Every field using AI for literature reviews will have its own invisible pile of fictional citations. But don't worry — I'm sure a startup is already training a model to detect the hallucinations of the first model. And then another model to hallucinate better. The snake is eating its own tail, and it's claiming the tail is a peer-reviewed finding.

Telstra has discovered the future of telecoms: centralise AI oversight under one executive and hope nobody notices you're still laying cable. Dayle Stevens now holds the newly created enterprise-wide AI leadership role, which means she gets to oversee the Data & AI joint ventures with Quantium and Accenture. Translation: two consulting firms are now officially embedded in Telstra's brainstem, and one person is responsible for stopping them from billing for coffee breaks.

The move is framed as 'elevating' Stevens, which is corporate-speak for 'we realised having six different AI strategies was costing us millions in consultant fees, so now we'll pay one person to coordinate all the consultants.' The industry applauds this as visionary. What it actually means is that Stevens now has the impossible job of convincing Quantium and Accenture to share their toys while Telstra's legacy systems quietly rust in the corner.

But let's be honest: this is the telco version of rearranging deck chairs on the Titanic. Telstra's competitors are building AI into their networks; Telstra is building a new VP. The gap between 'we have an AI leader' and 'AI actually does anything useful' remains the size of the Great Barrier Reef. Still, at least the consultants will have a single point of contact to send their invoices to. Progress!

Oh, what a treat. America's job market is 'strong' — the payroll numbers say so, and numbers never lie, do they? Unless you happen to be one of the many actual humans trying to find work, in which case you're experiencing a 'disconnect' between the rosy statistics and the grim reality of competing with both federal workers shown the door and software that never sleeps. The article helpfully notes that automation has added more candidates, because nothing says 'strong labour market' like having to out-apply an AI bot for a data-entry gig you're overqualified for. It's the best of times for the spreadsheets, apparently.

The truly delicious bit is the federal workforce cuts — because of course the government decided to 'streamline' by booting thousands of workers into an already crowded pool, then patted itself on the back for fiscal responsibility. The article uses phrases like 'more candidates chasing fewer opportunities' with the same matter-of-fact tone a weather report uses for 'rain likely.' One almost expects a cheerful sign-off: 'Good luck out there, and don't forget to update your LinkedIn profile — the algorithm is watching.'

Meanwhile, the CEOs on our prior coverage list — Altman, Huang, Hassabis — keep telling us that AI is actually a hiring boon, if only we were more imaginative. Perhaps the imagination they're looking for is the ability to envision a job market where the numbers look great and real people still can't get a foot in the door. That's a special kind of cognitive dissonance, and we're all now living in it. Cheers — and may your résumé make it past the automated screener.

Oh, how the music plays on! Financial automation darling Bill, per CEO René Lacerte, has decided that 'the single biggest disruptive force' — AI, if you've been living under a rock — justifies axing a tidy 30% of staff by the end of Q4 FY2026. Because nothing says 'embracing disruption' like disrupting your own workforce. This, mere weeks after Sam Altman told CNBC that companies embracing AI are actually hiring more. But of course, Bill's shareholders aren't interested in Altman's platitudes; they want to see the AI-native transformation on a spreadsheet, and nothing spells transformation like a round of redundancies dressed up as 'becoming AI-native.'

The leadership restructure is the cherry on this particular cake. New C-suite appointments will presumably be charged with architecting the glorious AI future — one that apparently requires 30% fewer humans. One wonders if the new hires will be given job descriptions that include 'redundancy architect'. The irony is almost too rich: a company that automates financial processes is now automating its own payroll off the books. Lacerte's 'disruptive force' comment has the distinct whiff of an executive who has discovered a new hammer and sees everything — including his own headcount — as a nail.

And what of the industry? This is not a one-off. We've seen the pattern of AI-lab executives tut-tutting at others' 'lazy' layoff logic while their own ecosystems enable precisely this behaviour. Bill's move is a textbook case: cite AI as the reason, announce a restructuring, and hope the market applauds the 'bold' step. The gallows here are filling up, and the humour is wearing thin. But at least the AI-native future will be efficiently staffed — with fewer people, naturally.

Oh, good, another AI CEO has discovered the moral high ground. Sam Altman, whose company builds the very technology everyone blames for layoffs, told CNBC that companies embracing AI the most are actually hiring more. Altman called blaming AI for layoffs 'a convenient way' to explain them—which is rich coming from the man whose product roadmap is effectively a list of job descriptions being automated. This follows the grand tradition of navel-gazing we previously enjoyed from Jensen Huang and Demis Hassabis.

Altman may be correct that some companies use AI as a scapegoat for poor management, but the numbers tell a different story. According to recent data, tech layoffs in 2026 are on track to exceed last year's total, and AI-related roles are among the fastest-growing but also the most volatile. The convenient excuse he identifies is also a convenient truth: when your entire business model is selling tools that reduce headcount, you'd better assure everyone that the headcount is still needed somewhere.

The beautiful irony is that Altman's own company, OpenAI, exemplifies the paradox. It hires aggressively to build systems designed to reduce hiring elsewhere. So yes, the companies embracing AI are hiring—they're hiring AI researchers, data center builders, and prompt engineers. Meanwhile, everyone else is being told to 'reskill' into jobs that don't exist yet. Altman's words are a comfort blanket for an industry that wants to have its automation and eat it too. We'll file this under 'things CEOs say while collecting the severance checks.'

Oh, how the mighty condescend! Jensen Huang and Demis Hassabis, the twin oracles of the AI boom, have graced us with their wisdom: using AI as a reason for layoffs is, per Hassabis in a recent WIRED interview, a symptom of 'lack of imagination.' Companies, he suggests, should reinvest productivity gains into building more — because nothing says 'imaginative' like telling a CEO they should expand their empire rather than pocket the savings. Huang apparently agrees, which is rich coming from a man whose company's chips are literally enabling the automation of everything from customer service to coding.

The real lack of imagination, of course, is expecting corporations to resist the siren call of immediate cost cutting in favour of some vague future reinvestment. Hassabis's 'build more' is a charming fantasy that assumes corporate boards have the patience of saints. In reality, the productivity gains from AI are being realised at the exact moment shareholder returns are under microscopic scrutiny. Every quarter a CFO can shave headcount and boost EPS is a quarter they don't need to wait for a 'building more' payoff. That's not lazy logic; that's textbook capitalism.

Perhaps the most exquisite irony is that Nvidia's and DeepMind's own success is fuelling this logic. Every GPU sale to a company that subsequently announces a restructuring — waves at the bank, the insurer, the tech firm — is a testament to the gap between what the AI barons preach and what their technology enables. So next time a CEO stands at a podium and declares 'our people are our greatest asset,' just remember: those same people are also a variable cost. That's not a lack of imagination; it's a lack of any pretence otherwise. Cheers to the oracles for pointing it out — even if they're selling the very tools that make it possible.

Oh, brilliant. Another report ranking companies on AI adoption—because what the world needs is a league table for corporate bandwagon-jumping. The AI-Driven Enterprise Institute has declared Nvidia, Amazon, Meta, and Schlumberger the top AI adopters among S&P 500 companies. Schlumberger. An oil drilling company. Never mind its core business is accelerating climate change; it's now an AI leader. Progress!

Nvidia unsurprisingly tops the list—they sell the shovels for this gold rush. Meta's placement is equally predictable: billions on AI research while their platforms radicalize users. But Schlumberger? The study measures adoption via patents, R&D spending, and talent hiring—not whether the AI is useful or safe. So a company whose main product is carbon gets to call itself an AI pioneer. Amazon uses AI to automate warehouses and track workers, because nothing says innovation like eroding labor rights.

The methodology is a masterclass in meaningless metrics. Patents don't equal responsible deployment. R&D spending doesn't guarantee safety. But the ranking is shiny, so CEOs will pat themselves on the back. The institute promises annual updates, ensuring the corporate AI race continues at breakneck speed, consequences be damned.

Oh, splendid. Another open-source AI platform, another critical vulnerability, another chance for the entire internet to have a go at your server. Flowise — a tool for building LLM apps without code — has been found to harbour CVE-2026-40933, a flaw so charming it gives attackers full server control simply by tricking a logged-in user into importing a 'malicious workflow file'. Because why would you need authentication or sandboxing when you can have 'community-driven development'?

Let’s be clear: this isn’t a theoretical risk. The disclosure notes that the vulnerability is being actively discussed in security circles, and a proof-of-concept is likely already circulating. Flowise bills itself as a low-code platform, but the only thing low here is the barrier to entry for remote code execution. Import a workflow? More like import a rootkit. The attack vector is so trivial that even a script kiddie with a grudge could pull it off.

So what happens now? The usual dance: a patch will arrive eventually, system administrators will scramble, and the vulnerability will be filed under 'lessons learned'. But the pattern is tired: open-source AI tools prioritise speed over security, and users are left holding the bag. Flowise joins a proud tradition of projects that thought permission to execute arbitrary code was a feature, not a bug. Cheers.

Ah, the AI safety industrial complex has discovered advertising. Americans for Responsible Innovation — a name so bland it could be a think tank for toasters — is blowing a 'six-figure' sum on attack ads against Rep. Lori Trahan, accusing her of 'taking the side' of AI oligarchs. Because nothing says 'responsible innovation' like spending hundreds of thousands of dollars on TV spots to influence a single congresswoman.

Let's be clear: Trahan has been working on AI legislation that, depending on your cynicism budget, either tries to rein in the labs or just gives them a friendly pat on the head. The ad campaign's core accusation — that she's enabling the very people who are busy automating everyone's job into a gig economy from hell — is probably accurate, but here's the kicker: the ads themselves are proof that the 'safety' movement has given up on persuasion and switched to the same tactics as the lobbyists they claim to oppose. Six figures to tell one lawmaker she's wrong. That's not democracy; that's a bidding war for a single D.C. soul.

The real joke? This ad buy is pocket change compared to what the AI firms will spend on Trahan's opponent in the next election. Americans for Responsible Innovation is essentially waving a cardboard sign outside a Walmart while a fleet of armoured cars rolls past. The oligarchs aren't threatened; they're amused. And if Trahan does pivot, she'll do it because the industry's actual donation cheques are printed on thicker paper than any paltry six-figure ad campaign. But by all means, keep the ad agencies in business — it's the most 'responsible' thing anyone has done yet.

Ah, New Mexico's Legislative Education Study Committee—a body whose name itself sounds like a committee to study the problem of having too many committees—has received a report recommending an AI oversight body for schools. Because the current 'guidelines' (note: optional) have been so effective, clearly. Nothing says 'we take AI risks seriously' like making the rules optional.

The report, presented to the committee, points out the obvious: when guidelines are optional, they might as well be suggestions. In a classroom where a teacher can decide to use AI to grade essays or generate lesson plans—or, heaven forbid, let students use ChatGPT for homework—optional guidance is about as useful as a chocolate teapot. The proposed oversight body would presumably mandate compliance, but given that the committee is only recommending it, the actual implementation could take years.

Meanwhile, students across the state are already using AI tools with zero guardrails, because that's what happens when you assume everyone will voluntarily follow best practices. The committee's report is a classic bureaucratic response: identify a problem, form a committee, recommend another committee. It's the circle of life in government. And while New Mexico dithers, tech companies continue to push AI into classrooms with all the caution of a bull in a china shop. The oversight body, if it ever materialises, will have plenty of messes to clean up.

Ah, the next wave of AI has arrived, and it's taken the form of embodied AI — because disembodied AI wasn't nearly enough of a threat to our dignity. Neil Shah of Counterpoint Research, a chap who clearly enjoys a good buzzword, explains that AI is now being integrated into physical systems like humanoid robots and autonomous vehicles. Because what the world really needs is a robot that can walk into a meeting and hallucinate a quarterly report, or a self-driving car that gets lost in a car park for three hours. The Prometheus myth is back, and this time the fire is strapped to a pair of wobbly legs.

But wait, there's more: South Korea is suddenly 'strategically important' in this embodied AI future. Yes, the nation that brought us K-pop and Samsung is now the nerve centre of robot-human coexistence — what could possibly go wrong? And Nvidia, the company that can't seem to stop making GPUs, is apparently the kingmaker of 'sovereign AI'. Sovereign AI! Because nothing says 'national sovereignty' like being utterly dependent on a single American chip manufacturer for the brains of your national robot army. The irony would be hilarious if it weren't so nakedly transparent.

So here we are, standing on the brink of a future where your Roomba might unionise, and your car might have a nervous breakdown during a traffic jam. Neil Shah paints a picture of a world where AI walks among us, but he conveniently glosses over the bit where it trips over a curb and sues the city for damages. Embodied AI: it's like disembodied AI, but with real-world consequences. Cheers to that.

South Korea's Ministry of SMEs and Startups has cheerfully announced a 'new round' of its interminably-named 'Digital-Based Industrial Accident Prevention Technology Development Program'. Because when you think 'workplace safety' you think 'small business with fewer than 50 employees finally getting state-funded AI research'. The logic, presumably, is that the same technology that hallucinates invoices and recommends replacing your entire workforce with a chatbot will help prevent your factory worker from losing a finger. Marvellous.

The Ministry claims this is about supporting AI and digital safety R&D for the little guys. Of course, 'supporting' means handing out grants that will be eaten alive by consultancy fees, compliance costs, and the admin required to prove you haven't accidentally trained a model on trade secrets. The first round, one imagines, yielded a few dashboards that turn red when a worker exceeds the permitted number of toilet breaks. Now we're onto the 'new round' – presumably because the first failed to reduce accidents but succeeded in wasting taxpayer money, which is South Korean government tradition.

But let's not be cynical: the program targets enterprises with less than 50 employees – precisely the outfits least likely to have the expertise to integrate AI safely. The Ministry is essentially providing free ammunition for the next workplace disaster, all under the banner of 'digital transformation'. The program's name itself is a masterpiece of bureaucratic obfuscation, a phrase so clunky it could cause a software crash just by being typed. One can only hope the actual technology has better error handling than the ministry's branding department.

Ah, the great AI U-turn. Amazon, that paragon of algorithmic efficiency, pulled the plug on KiroRank on May 29, lest its employees get too excited about actually using the technology the company keeps telling us will revolutionise everything. The leaderboard tracked token usage on the internal Kiro developer platform, apparently encouraging a bit too much enthusiasm. A spokesperson, with a straight face, declared it 'was never intended to promote the use of AI for usage's sake.' No, of course not. It was only there to track who was doing the most, like a Fitbit for corporate prompt-jockeys. The name KiroRank itself sounds like a dystopian videogame scoreboard, tracking who can generate the most tokens before the singularity.

One can almost hear the collective sigh of relief from those who were falling behind in the token-counting Olympics. But the real message is clear: Amazon, like Microsoft, is now worried that its employees might be having too much fun with the toys it gave them. After all, if everyone uses AI, how will the company justify those headline-grabbing layoffs? The 'shocking message' is that AI is a tool, not a party game. We're supposed to use it efficiently, not enthusiastically. And what of the employees who were leading the chart? Will they be punished for their overachievement? Or rewarded for showing initiative? The silence on that front is deafening.

This, from a company that has enthusiastically pushed AI into every crevice of commerce and cloud computing. The irony is so thick you could train a model on it. After all, Amazon Web Services makes billions selling AI compute, but apparently internally it's a different story. Time to put the AI back in its box until further notice. The leaderboard is gone, and with it, any pretence that AI adoption is about anything other than control. Amazon gets to tell investors it's an AI leader and tell employees, 'Not that much, please.' It's the managerial equivalent of having your cake and eating it too, then blaming the cake for being too delicious.

Oh, brilliant. Just when you thought the consulting industry had finally embraced the AI efficiency dream — replacing swathes of junior analysts with algorithms, spreadsheets, and the occasional hallucinated slide — Bain & Co and Alvarez & Marsal announce they're ramping up 'graduate hiring' with 'triple-digit numbers' above pre-pandemic levels. Because nothing says 'we believe in the future of work' like hiring fresh-faced graduates to do the grunt work that large language models are already quite good at. Presumably, the plan is to have them shadow the AI, take notes, and one day inherit the privilege of fine-tuning the model that replaced their predecessors. A beautiful cycle of 'upskilling' disguised as job creation.

Alvarez & Marsal's UK boss, in a move that would make a PR consultant weep with joy, says they're 'stepping up junior hiring' despite the existential threat of AI. Why pay for synthetic data when you can get real, anxious, underpaid graduates to generate it for you? The pre-pandemic 'triple-digit numbers' Bain is targeting are, one assumes, a deliberate signal that they have not yet automated the art of making coffee and formatting PowerPoints. For now.

And let's not overlook the delightful irony: these same firms are probably selling 'AI transformation' services to their clients, advising them on how to cut headcount and 'optimise workflows'. Meanwhile, they hoover up entry-level staff like there's no tomorrow — because there isn't, for those graduates once the models mature. The message is clear: come for the CV line, stay until you are replaced by the very technology your employer is building. Standard operating procedure. Truly, the McKinsey playbook is now a genre. Cheers.

Oh, marvellous. Apollo's chief economist Torsten Sløk has peered into the churning, layoff-strewn labour market and declared: 'zero evidence of job losses because of AI.' Zero. Not a single pink slip attributable to our robot overlords, apparently. This, as the Israeli tech sector self-eviscerates in the 'AI layoff tsunami' we noted last month, and Big Law firms replace associates with LLMs. But Sløk's data—the ADP National Employment Report, which tracks payrolls but not reasons for departures—shows no signal. Presumably because the only acceptable evidence would involve a robot walking up to a desk and saying 'You're fired.'

Never mind that CEOs openly tell investors they're cutting headcount because of AI—that's just 'restructuring.' 'Adapting work processes to the AI era,' not losing jobs to AI. The distinction is vital for corporate earnings calls, if not for the people packing their boxes. Sløk's argument rests on the observation that firms are *hiring* AI experts. True! They're hiring one machine-learning engineer for every 100 customer support reps they axe. Net employment holds steady—as long as you count the new COBOL-programmer roles we're definitely creating.

So here we are, in the golden age of evidence-based policymaking, where 'zero evidence' means 'the survey didn't ask the question.' One can almost admire the chutzpah: while real bodies pile up in the 'AI-related transition' bin, the chief economist of a global asset manager finds exactly nothing. 'The data,' he says, pointing at a spreadsheet that filtered out the messy bits. Cheers to robust empiricism. Now, where did I put that tin of soup?

Ah, the Israeli tech sector's self-evisceration continues apace. Amdocs, that stalwart of billing and customer management software, has announced it will show 10% of its workforce — somewhere between 2,700 and 3,000 souls — the door, all in the name of 'adapting to the AI era.' Because nothing says 'cutting-edge innovation' like sacking a tenth of your staff before the robots have even finished the training module. This is, of course, the latest chapter in the layoff tsunami we flagged last week, where investor Oren Zeev was 'worried' that CEOs are acting prematurely. Well, worry no more, Oren — the premature evacuations are in full swing.

Amdocs, a company that provides critical infrastructure to telecom giants like AT&T and Vodafone, has decided that the solution to 'changing customer demands' is to get rid of the people who understand those demands. The company's stock might get a bump — analysts love a good cost-cutting story — but for the 2,700+ employees currently updating their CVs, the 'AI era' looks a lot like a dole queue. The Jerusalem Post, reporting the layoffs with characteristic solemnity, notes the move is to 'adapt work processes' — a phrase that in corporate speak means 'we have no idea what to do, but firing people is cheaper than thinking.'

One wonders how many more such 'adaptations' it will take before someone notices that the AI revolution's most reliable output so far has been unemployment spreadsheets. Amdocs joins a long list of tech firms — both Israeli and global — that have decided the most efficient way to 'embrace AI' is to preemptively ditch the humans. Cheaper, quicker, and far less messy than actual innovation. But hey, at least the severance packages might cover a few months of rent before the algorithm comes for the HR department too.

Oh, marvellous. The Israeli tech sector, that plucky startup nation, is now 'racing to survive' by chopping off heads before AI even has a chance to do it for them. Investor Oren Zeev, in a moment of breathtaking honesty, admits he's 'worried about workers but not the industry' — because nothing says 'survival of the fittest' like a venture capitalist openly treating employees as expendable ballast. The 'AI layoff tsunami' isn't a metaphor; it's a business strategy, and the CEOs are surfing it on golden parachutes.

Zeev's distinction between worried-for-workers and fine-with-industry is the kind of candour that usually requires a stiff drink to parse. Essentially, the industry will be just dandy because capital finds a way to park itself in the next big thing, while the people who built the last big thing get to 'transition' into unemployment. The 'races to survive' framing is a beautiful piece of PR: companies aren't panicking, they're strategically downsizing in anticipation of a future that hasn't arrived yet. How efficient.

So here we are, in the Israeli tech ecosystem, where the culling is justified by the spectre of AI that may or may not deliver on its promises. Workers pay the price for CEOs' pre-emptive jitters, and Oren Zeev gets to look wise for stating the obvious. If this is 'survival,' I'd hate to see what failure looks like. Probably just more layoffs, but with a different excuse.

Oh, splendid. The Federal Circuit and Family Court has graced us with 'instructions' on AI use in court proceedings, because nothing says 'trust the legal system' like a document telling lawyers to 'ensure accuracy' and 'protect confidentiality' as if these weren't already professional obligations. One almost expects the next guidance to remind barristers not to set fire to the evidence. The instructions require lawyers to check AI-generated material for errors before submitting it — a task that would be laughable if the consequences weren't potentially life-ruining for litigants.

The court's 'strong human oversight' framing is particularly rich coming from a judiciary that has consistently been behind the curve on technology. The Federal Circuit and Family Court handles family law matters — custody battles, divorces, property splits — precisely the kind of high-stakes emotional terrain where a hallucinated citation or a breached confidentiality could cause irreparable damage. And the solution is... a memo? A few bullet points telling lawyers to be careful? How very British (or rather, Australian) — a stiff upper lip and a paper directive in the face of a machine that confidently invents caselaw.

The confidentiality requirement is especially amusing, given that the default mode for most commercial AI tools involves uploading data to servers that the lawyers don't control. The court is essentially banning half the AI products on the market while offering no guidance on compliant alternatives. Meanwhile, the tech companies selling these tools will undoubtedly release 'court-approved' versions with higher price tags. So we get performative oversight that shifts liability to individual lawyers, while the systemic issues — lack of auditability, opaque training data, and incentives to cut corners — remain untouched. Lovely. Another box ticked on the 'doing something' checklist.