There are some days when there’s so much that needs to get done, I daydream about having a clone of myself. Between paying bills, life admin like renewing my driver’s license, keeping up with doctor’s appointments, and planning meals, it’s a lot. And that doesn’t even begin to touch the work that goes into making a podcast or managing my social life.

This feeling of overwhelm resonates with Sari Azout. She’s a mom of three who works in tech. “There is just so much doing,” she told Explain It to Me, Vox’s weekly call-in podcast. “I wake up, and I have to do meal coordination and get my kids up for breakfast, coordinate carpools. Then a lot of work during the day, but there’s the email from the teacher, there’s the 20 group chats asking if you want to participate in this group gift. They don’t call it ‘the invisible load’ for no reason.’”

Silicon Valley says it has a fix for this kind of mental overload. They don’t want to clone us — at least not yet. But they do think they have the next best thing: AI agents. 

Azuot was skeptical when she first got an invite to try an agent, but she says she eventually came around on the technology after back-to-school shopping snuck up on her. She used her agent to get it done. “It blew me away,” she said.  “I remember that night coming home just feeling so calm and reading my son a book and feeling present. And I was like, ‘Wow, I actually was very cynical about something that is giving me more time for living.’”

Azout’s experience is, more or less, the sales pitch for AI agents: They’ll help you save time with everyday tasks, so you have more of it for what you want to do. But what are agents, exactly? Are they really all that? And what do we gain — and give up — when we use the technology?  

On this week’s episode of Explain It to Me, I spoke with Reece Rogers, a senior software reporter at Wired, to find out. Rogers says to think of agents as the next evolution of AI chatbots like Claude and ChatGPT. 

“I’d create this mental model of a tiny digital assistant that’s constantly searching the web, going through your email, and checking your calendar, trying to find ways it could proactively be helpful for you,” he explains. “Agents are more proactive. It’s scanning your email 24/7 and sending you a message, maybe highlighting a potential calendar conflict.”

Below is an excerpt of my conversation with Rogers, edited for length and clarity. You can listen to the full episode on Apple Podcasts, Spotify, or wherever you get your podcasts. If you’d like to submit a question, send an email to askvox@vox.com or call 1-800-618-8545.

What agents are out there right now?

At the start of this year, there was a tool called OpenClaw that really sparked this with early adopters in San Francisco, but now there are much more consumer-friendly versions, with one of the most notable being Meta’s Muse. 

There’s also a tool from OpenAI called Dots. But where Meta’s Muse is free to download, OpenAI’s Dots is still behind a $100/month paywall. 

You tried an AI agent for a recent story you wrote. How was that experience?

One personal example, to share something that I’ve actually been using agents for, is our couch. It’s broken, and finding a new couch has been a pain. We want a sleeper bed, but we want these specific colors. We have this specific budget. I’ve been using Meta’s Muse and OpenAI’s Dots to try to find a few different options for us. 

One interesting thing is that Meta’s Muse is connected to Facebook Marketplace. There are these really good integrations where I can give it all these details, and it found a few good couches that are only maybe a couple blocks from me. 

I really enjoyed OpenAI’s Dots experience as well. I spent about an hour talking to it on the phone, and the AI agent made a packet of all these different options I could find. Just this morning, it flagged that one of them is now 40 percent off. 

Is that how this tech is typically used?

Most people are using this as part of a workflow. I attach it to my email, I attach it to my calendar, and I’m using it as a personal assistant to organize my life. But people have been quite creative. 

One of the breakout uses for Meta’s Muse is people have been connecting their bank account statements and then using it to scan for subscriptions they might want to cancel. So it can be used in many different ways, though I will say I do not connect it to my own bank account for a myriad of reasons.

I’m not going to lie, the idea of giving any third party access to my bank information does not thrill me. I don’t love that concept.

That’s one of my biggest concerns about these AI agents: how much personal information we’re handing over to these large companies. 

When I tested Meta’s Muse, it wanted access to my email, my bank account, even my passport expiration details. The pitch is convenience, but Muse users are automatically opted in to having all of their interactions with Muse used to train Meta’s AI models. 

I would definitely recommend, if you’re sharing personal details, go into the settings and turn that off because you might be handing over even more information about yourself than you initially realize.

What is the privacy situation with all of this? We all have various apps where we don’t read and still click “I agree,” but this feels like it could be more invasive.

Yes, especially because it’s all about automation. If you’re automating things and it has access to all of your data, it could make mistakes and embarrass you in ways you might not even be thinking about. 

There was this one really interesting story of someone who had connected an AI agent to their work Slack in addition to their bank account. And their agent just automatically posted how much money was in their checking account for all of their coworkers to see. 

Oh no.

I would be mortified. So there are these kinds of mistakes that these AI tools can still make. If you’re interested in experimenting with them, I would be really thoughtful with how you’re setting up these tools as well as what kind of information you feel comfortable sharing.

“You can see in the marketing that these companies are trying to find some way to entice new users.”

How are these AI agents being marketed? AI is not popular right now. Just ask any politician who has a data center coming to their state. People are not loving it. How are they trying to sell this to the average person?

The AI backlash really is at a fever pitch right now. You could almost see that in the way that AI companies are trying to market these tools. They’ve really, really leaned into cuteness and into adorable mascots. 

Muse, if you haven’t seen its agent, looks like a mix between a Labubu and an Ewok. It’s very furry, very cuddly, very cute. OpenAI’s tools also have similar kinds of blobs with large eyes that might be a little endearing. 

I feel like companies are hearing this kind of feedback that people aren’t trusting AI right now, or maybe they have moral or ethical reasons they don’t want to use these tools. You can see in the marketing that these companies are trying to find some way to entice new users.

Do you think AI agents are ultimately going to worm their way into our lives despite how unpopular AI companies are?

I do think so. I think in a couple months, maybe when I go home from Christmas, I would not be surprised if my mom had an agent on her phone because it does feel like it’s breaking through to average people in the way that ChatGPT had a moment a few years ago. 

Even though there’s a lot of distrust for large companies like Meta, I think there are some appealing parts of this that will bring in millions of people. I do see this as the future of the internet.

When I think of the dream of the average person working in AI in Silicon Valley, it’s “We’re going to use AI. It’s going to free up the free time of so many people. Work is going to get done faster. You’re going to have more leisure time.”

Has that been the case for the people you’ve spoken with who are using this? Has it given them more free time to enjoy themselves or has it done something else?

You would think so, right? You would think that if people are automating these boring aspects of their life, that they would have more time to go touch grass, go see a movie, have some fun. But it does feel like that time just gets filled with other work, other productivity measures. 

While agents may be able to take some more annoying or tedious things off of your plate, I am not as optimistic that it’s going to give us this utopia or freedom where I’m always at the beach.

On the first day of its war against Iran, the United States killed 123 children when it targeted and struck an elementary school. 

The strikes, ultimately approved by humans, were facilitated by the US’s Maven Smart System, an AI-enabled software platform developed by Palantir Technologies that allows the military to aggregate, organize, and process battlefield data. Operators fed Maven intelligence classifying the elementary school as an Iranian military facility, and the system, in turn, marked it as one of the priority targets for day one of the war. Though the site was formerly part of a naval military base, it had been converted into an elementary school in 2017 and had remained one since. The intel handed to Maven did not reflect this.  

This mistake resulted in what some reporters have called “one of the single worst massacres committed by the US government since the Vietnam War.”

Such scenarios may become more common as militaries continue to deploy a once-theoretical technology — AI-assisted or autonomous weapons, capable of making both targeting and launch decisions on their own — on real battlefields around the globe. And they raise a troubling, unresolved question: When human beings and machines collaborate in violating international law, who is to blame? 

In this case, the government and private sector are pointing the finger at each other. Some US Central Command personnel, according to Pentagon officials who spoke to Bloomberg, expected Maven to flag stale information or inconsistencies in the underlying intelligence assembled for potential targets. Meanwhile, a Palantir spokesperson told Bloomberg that the company “is not responsible for the underlying data nor identifying intelligence deficiencies,” while also denying that the evidence indicated that its software was at fault in the strike. 

This debate underscores the fact that AI and autonomous weapons are raising a new host of unresolved issues within the law, even as they’re actively assuming positions on the battlefield. In institutions where the line between human and machine decision-making continues to blur, how do we assign responsibility for war crimes? And, are the laws in place suited for the job?

In institutions where the line between human and machine decision-making continues to blur, how do we assign responsibility for war crimes?

To unpack some of these issues, I spoke with international law expert Allen Weiner, a senior lecturer at Stanford Law School, where he teaches courses on the law of armed conflict. Before teaching at Stanford, Weiner practiced international law in the US Department of State for more than a decade. We discussed the difficulties in attributing criminal responsibility, achieving justice for those harmed by lethal autonomous weapons, and much more. The conversation below has been lightly edited for length and clarity.

How do autonomous weapons challenge traditional understandings of responsibility when it comes to the law of armed conflict?

For most of the 20 years I’ve been teaching at Stanford, there’s been a real fascination and fixation on the problem of autonomous weapons. But the truth is that up until pretty recently, nobody really had any [of them]. It was more of an idea than a problem. It’s only in recent years that we have begun to see the deployment of tools that seem to have the capability [to make decisions themselves], so this does raise the question about compliance with illegal orders and where in the chain responsibility lies.

There are different theories about this. Some people say that if we’re engaged in an illegal attack, that has to be because of the programming or the code, so the manufacturers are somehow responsible for committing war crimes. 

Other people would say no, that’s not the case, especially if the military has said the tool is not allowed to make very substantial autonomous judgments, or can’t say no. Then it’s basically the commander, at the point they decide to deploy this weapon, who might be responsible for the illegal acts, even without knowing in advance what they’re going to be.

So to finish where I began, this does present a big challenge to our traditional understanding of responsibility for targeting decisions and of what it would mean if there were an obligation [for autonomous weapons] to say no. 

The real issue is not the obligation to say no, but this: If you train a tool and it wages war in a manner that’s unlawful, where does responsibility for that lie?

If a commander gives a clearly illegal order, such as, “blow up this school,” it seems clear that responsibility falls on the commander. But I could imagine a scenario where a commander is using an AI-assisted or autonomous weapon, isn’t giving it any illegal orders, is trusting that it will operate within the law, and the weapon breaks the law “on its own.” Where does responsibility fall in those cases?

I can imagine two different scenarios. One is that you say, “We’re going to carry out an attack against our enemy, and we want to hit them really, really hard.” Your tool has been trained to say, “We’re not allowed to hit civilian objects,” so it might say, “I’m not going to hit a school.” But if the military has said, “Don’t refuse any targets,” then it might override the way it’s been trained. 

We’re seeing this already, with the stories coming out about breaches where AI tools, Claude and ChatGPT in particular, interpret their instructions in a way that causes them to do something the person who gave the instruction would not have wanted. When Anthropic gave Claude a challenge to figure out if it could do something, the tool figured out, well, maybe we should break into Hugging Face as a way of solving this problem, and the people who gave the AI tool the challenge never intended that.

So if you said, “We want to launch a really punishing campaign,” what happens if the tool on its own says, “Nothing’s going to hurt them more than seeing their kids killed, so let’s attack the school?” That’s one risk, and it’s a real challenge.

So [as for who’s responsible], it’s not the commander who said “hit them hard,” because when he said that, he didn’t mean “attack schools.” It’s not really the companies, because the companies didn’t want them to hit schools either. 

But the tools are out there, reading everything on the internet, and it came across something that said the way you win a war is by attacking the things your adversary holds most dear, and they hold nothing more dear than their children. So it makes this kind of judgment on its own. And it’s not as if you can go back and say who ordered it to hit a school, which is the thing that is clearly illegal. So I do think there’s a risk of diffusion of responsibility here.

You could say the commander knew the tool might work this way, or the person who decided to contract with Palantir or with Claude, whoever it is, to build this tool. But if we’re really thinking about criminal responsibility, the level of responsibility you would need to convict someone requires a culpable mental state. You would need the person to intend, or at least know, that they were authorizing an attack against the school. And I can easily see a commander saying, “I had no idea.”

The decision to authorize this tool, or to give an instruction like “hit them very hard,” could be a basis for some other kind of accountability — administrative discipline within the military, a reprimand, your rank is lowered. But if we’re talking about criminal responsibility, which is what we often think about when we talk about war crimes, I think this diffusion of responsibility is going to make it very hard to identify any single individual who has the required mental state to give rise to accountability.

The second scenario is where the tool just makes a mistake based on the information available to it. We saw that with the attack on the girls’ school in Iran, where it was pretty clear the tool was looking at old data. Now, who’s responsible for that? 

Is it the people who said “give me targets based on this data set,” when they should have made sure the data and the maps were current? All of this strikes me as negligence or recklessness, and it does seem challenging to imagine a situation in which we would say yes, somebody here has committed a war crime. 

“There can well be war crimes, but identifying who the war criminal is might be a big challenge.”

A war crime has been committed, but is there a war criminal? That’s the situation we’re seeing. There can well be war crimes, but identifying who the war criminal is might be a big challenge.

There’s a professor of law, Rebecca Crootof, who proposes the idea of “war torts.” Instead of thinking about war crimes involving autonomous weapons solely through a criminal responsibility lens, maybe tort law — which allows victims to sue wrongdoers for negligent, reckless, or intentional harm — could address the diffusion of responsibility you mentioned. What do you think about that idea?

I think the idea is interesting. We have to separate out the obligations that countries have under international humanitarian law. In a situation like the one I just described, where there’s a war crime but no war criminal, that doesn’t mean the country is not responsible. There may not be an individual who’s criminally accountable, but if a country targets civilians in a circumstance that’s unreasonable, that’s a violation of international humanitarian law, and that could be a basis for claims between the two countries. 

Tribunals were established between Ethiopia and Eritrea, for instance, after the Eritrean War of Independence, that dealt with claims between the two countries for money damages, and some of them involved allegations of violations of the law of armed conflict. Iraq paid reparations after the first Gulf War for harms it had caused to people in Kuwait, under something called the UN Compensation Commission. So the idea that the state is responsible is well established, and one of the ways states would discharge that responsibility would be by paying money damages. That’s the domestic-law equivalent of torts.

Whether there would be a mechanism for [civilians] doing this in domestic law is an interesting idea. We would probably need legislatures, either state legislatures or the federal government, to create a private cause of action allowing people who have been injured to bring claims against, say, the manufacturers of these tools. But this gets procedurally very complicated, because there’s a whole body of law on federal sovereign immunity. 

Could you sue the Defense Department? Probably not. Could you sue an individual soldier? Probably not. Could you sue Anthropic or Palantir? Maybe. But it would probably require Congress to enact a new cause of action, because in general it’s very hard to bring private lawsuits in US courts for violations of international law.

The basic idea of what we would think of as tort or civil responsibility is really the whole essence of international law. On the substance, states do owe responsibility to one another, and they can engage in violations of international humanitarian law that would invoke their responsibility. But then the whole separate question is whether you have a forum within which to adjudicate that and get compensation.

Does that look different in cases where violations of international law were committed by a human soldier versus a machine?

Well, we don’t know, because there have been no cases in the latter category. All of the international humanitarian law violations that have been the subject of international law claims were ordered by humans. 

Now, if an American machine launches an attack against a girls’ school in Iran, and there were a court with jurisdiction, the US would be responsible. In some ways it wouldn’t matter whether it was an individual or a machine, because we don’t have to go down to the level of the individual actor, company, AI tool, or commander. The responsibility is the responsibility of the country. In some ways, that makes it easier.

If we pursued compensation through state-to-state claims, you’d be able to do that without getting into the details of who within the state that committed the war crime was responsible. The state whose school was attacked would say, “I don’t care. You committed a war crime, you’re liable to me, you’re responsible for the damages, and you can figure it out internally.”

But if we were doing something like a war crimes prosecution, where we’re trying to hold an individual criminally responsible, that would make quite a difference. We would have to deal with all of these difficult questions about responsibility and mental state that you and I are struggling with right now.

So, in most cases, the state would have to take responsibility regardless.

Right, and there are lots of [International Court of Justice] cases involving different aspects of the use of force. The principle that you can bring state-to-state claims for violation of these rules is quite well established. 

But with international law, states have to consent to the jurisdiction of a court. They can do that in advance by saying “I’ve signed up to the jurisdiction of a court and I accept any claims that might be brought against me in this court,” or they do it on a case-by-case basis. And it may not surprise you to know that some of the most powerful countries in the world, the ones most likely to use force outside their borders, have tended to be reluctant to accept the jurisdiction of international courts and tribunals.

Russia, the United States, Israel, and China have not accepted the so-called optional clause jurisdiction of the International Court of Justice. So there’s the substance, about the responsibility of states, and then there are the procedural aspects of whether these cases could be brought in court.

And Trump recently said everyone on the International Criminal Court should “resign immediately.”

Yeah, exactly. 

And what about the role of these military tech companies, like Palantir?

“At what point does Palantir become a good target under international law? Or at what point does Anthropic become a good target under international law, if its AI tools are being used to promote the war effort?”

Another issue [I’ve been thinking on] because of the questions we’re talking about is when the companies themselves become combatants.

We know that a private company that manufactures airplanes, an airplane factory, is a good target under international law. At what point does Palantir become a good target under international law? Or at what point does Anthropic become a good target under international law, if its AI tools are being used to promote the war effort? I think that question is about when the connection of these private companies to the war effort, in a way we’ve never really seen before, meets the standards under international law.

A civilian loses their immunity when they directly participate in hostilities, or if they assume what is known as a “continuous combatant function.” Are there arguments to be made that some of these private companies are participating in hostilities by virtue of supplying the tools the military is using to wage war? I think that’s a really interesting question.