// MIT TECH REVIEW — INTELLIGENZA ARTIFICIALE
The focus on AI safety disasters ignores everyday harms
Lawmakers are passing industry-backed bills to guard against the worst outcomes, rather than addressing more common problems.
Consider what passes for success in technology policy. An AI company promises that its chatbot will not encourage suicide. A social media platform makes it more difficult for children to buy fentanyl. These are important protections, and they should have existed all along. But companies can clear these low bars while continuing to make products that leave young people dependent on simulated friendships or trapped in feeds built to keep them scrolling.
We have historically allowed the debate over technology to be defined by the worst thing a product might do, with remarkably little discussion of the insidious damage it does every day. As we transition into an era defined by powerful AI products, we should demand that the tech industry do more than merely address catastrophic harms. We should take measures to ensure that its products don’t erode how we think, learn, and interact with one another.
A teenager who develops an unhealthy attachment to an AI companion may never appear in a lawsuit or a newspaper, except in the most egregious cases. Neither will the student who begins relying on a chatbot to write every paper, or the young person who measures their life against a social media feed engineered to provoke envy and keep them watching. A product can meet every narrow safety requirement and still leave our entire culture worse off in ways that don’t always make headlines.
A narrow definition of success defined around safety is politically convenient for the technology industry, and companies actively promote such definitions. Taking steps to prevent spectacular disasters is good for business: It can mean fewer lawsuits and less pressure for serious regulation. Confronting the everyday consequences of dependence would require something considerably more threatening to their bottom line. It might mean asking companies to add more friction to their products or actively limit engagement or features that lead to negative outcomes, such as addictive attention-hacking algorithms.
Technology giants have instead worked to shape legislation around the harms they are already under direct pressure to address. This year, for example, Google backed bills to regulate AI chatbots in several states. The legislation mandated basic protections against sexual content and promotion of self-harm that tech companies should have established regardless, but with broad carve-outs that could exempt some of the most popular services. Passing these bills allowed legislators to claim a safety win while efforts to promote stronger legislation—laws designed to prevent children from becoming emotionally dependent on AI—failed. This playbook worked in states like Nebraska, producing legislation heavily influenced by industry at the expense of bills that would have done more to hold companies accountable.
We have been through a version of this with social media. Globally, people who use the internet now spend an average of more than two hours a day on social media platforms—time that has been quietly taken from ordinary life and handed over to companies whose profits depend on keeping us there. No one, outside perhaps a few tech CEOs, wanted these algorithms to occupy such a large portion of our waking hours, and their cultural engineering can actually contribute to violence on a devastating scale. Meta’s platforms have been cited for contributing to the Rohingya genocide in Myanmar, anti-Muslim riots in Sri Lanka, and alleged calls for violence during Ethiopia’s Tigray war. The same incentives operate in the feeds that shape young Americans’ understanding of politics, their peers, and the wider world.
AI is extending this logic into parts of life that social media could influence only from a distance. It offers to write our thoughts for us and stand in for the people we might otherwise turn to. A third of teens now choose to di