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You won’t believe the excuses lawyers have after getting busted for using AI


I got hacked; I lost my login; it was a rough draft; toggling windows is hard.

Credit: Aurich Lawson | Getty Images

Credit: Aurich Lawson | Getty Images

Amid what one judge called an “epidemic” of fake AI-generated case citations bogging down courts, some common excuses are emerging from lawyers hoping to dodge the most severe sanctions for filings deemed misleading.

Using a database compiled by French lawyer and AI researcher Damien Charlotin, Ars reviewed 23 cases where lawyers were sanctioned for AI hallucinations. In many, judges noted that the simplest path to avoid or diminish sanctions was to admit that AI was used as soon as it’s detected, act humble, self-report the error to relevant legal associations, and voluntarily take classes on AI and law. But not every lawyer takes the path of least resistance, Ars’ review found, with many instead offering excuses that no judge found credible. Some even lie about their AI use, judges concluded.

Since 2023—when fake AI citations started being publicized—the most popular excuse has been that the lawyer didn’t know AI was used to draft a filing.

Sometimes that means arguing that you didn’t realize you were using AI, as in the case of a California lawyer who got stung by Google’s AI Overviews, which he claimed he took for typical Google search results. Most often, lawyers using this excuse tend to blame an underling, but clients have been blamed, too. A Texas lawyer this month was sanctioned after deflecting so much that the court had to eventually put his client on the stand after he revealed she played a significant role in drafting the aberrant filing.

“Is your client an attorney?” the court asked.

“No, not at all your Honor, just was essentially helping me with the theories of the case,” the lawyer said.

Another popular dodge comes from lawyers who feign ignorance that chatbots are prone to hallucinating facts.

Recent cases suggest this excuse may be mutating into variants. Last month, a sanctioned Oklahoma lawyer admitted that he didn’t expect ChatGPT to add new citations when all he asked the bot to do was “make his writing more persuasive.” And in September, a California lawyer got in a similar bind—and was sanctioned a whopping $10,000, a fine the judge called “conservative.” That lawyer had asked ChatGPT to “enhance” his briefs, “then ran the ‘enhanced’ briefs through other AI platforms to check for errors,” neglecting to ever read the “enhanced” briefs.

Neither of those tired old excuses hold much weight today, especially in courts that have drawn up guidance to address AI hallucinations. But rather than quickly acknowledge their missteps, as courts are begging lawyers to do, several lawyers appear to have gotten desperate. Ars found a bunch citing common tech issues as the reason for citing fake cases.

When in doubt, blame hackers?

For an extreme case, look to a New York City civil court, where a lawyer, Innocent Chinweze, first admitted to using Microsoft Copilot to draft an errant filing, then bizarrely pivoted to claim that the AI citations were due to malware found on his computer.

Chinweze said he had created a draft with correct citations but then got hacked, allowing bad actors “unauthorized remote access” to supposedly add the errors in his filing.

The judge was skeptical, describing the excuse as an “incredible and unsupported statement,” particularly since there was no evidence of the prior draft existing. Instead, Chinweze asked to bring in an expert to testify that the hack had occurred, requesting to end the proceedings on sanctions until after the court weighed the expert’s analysis.

The judge, Kimon C. Thermos, didn’t have to weigh this argument, however, because after the court broke for lunch, the lawyer once again “dramatically” changed his position.

“He no longer wished to adjourn for an expert to testify regarding malware or unauthorized access to his computer,” Thermos wrote in an order issuing sanctions. “He retreated” to “his original position that he used Copilot to aid in his research and didn’t realize that it could generate fake cases.”

Possibly more galling to Thermos than the lawyer’s weird malware argument, though, was a document that Chinweze filed on the day of his sanctions hearing. That document included multiple summaries preceded by this text, the judge noted:

Some case metadata and case summaries were written with the help of AI, which can produce inaccuracies. You should read the full case before relying on it for legal research purposes.

Thermos admonished Chinweze for continuing to use AI recklessly. He blasted the filing as “an incoherent document that is eighty-eight pages long, has no structure, contains the full text of most of the cases cited,” and “shows distinct indications that parts of the discussion/analysis of the cited cases were written by artificial intelligence.”

Ultimately, Thermos ordered Chinweze to pay $1,000, the most typical fine lawyers received in the cases Ars reviewed. The judge then took an extra non-monetary step to sanction Chinweze, referring the lawyer to a grievance committee, “given that his misconduct was substantial and seriously implicated his honesty, trustworthiness, and fitness to practice law.”

Ars could not immediately reach Chinweze for comment.

Toggling windows on a laptop is hard

In Alabama, an attorney named James A. Johnson made an “embarrassing mistake,” he said, primarily because toggling windows on a laptop is hard, US District Judge Terry F. Moorer noted in an October order on sanctions.

Johnson explained that he had accidentally used an AI tool that he didn’t realize could hallucinate. It happened while he was “at an out-of-state hospital attending to the care of a family member recovering from surgery.” He rushed to draft the filing, he said, because he got a notice that his client’s conference had suddenly been “moved up on the court’s schedule.”

“Under time pressure and difficult personal circumstance,” Johnson explained, he decided against using Fastcase, a research tool provided by the Alabama State Bar, to research the filing. Working on his laptop, he opted instead to use “a Microsoft Word plug-in called Ghostwriter Legal” because “it appeared automatically in the sidebar of Word while Fastcase required opening a separate browser to access through the Alabama State Bar website.”

To Johnson, it felt “tedious to toggle back and forth between programs on [his] laptop with the touchpad,” and that meant he “unfortunately fell victim to the allure of a new program that was open and available.”

Moorer seemed unimpressed by Johnson’s claim that he understood tools like ChatGPT were unreliable but didn’t expect the same from other AI legal tools—particularly since “information from Ghostwriter Legal made it clear that it used ChatGPT as its default AI program,” Moorer wrote.

The lawyer’s client was similarly horrified, deciding to drop Johnson on the spot, even though that risked “a significant delay of trial.” Moorer noted that Johnson seemed shaken by his client’s abrupt decision, evidenced by “his look of shock, dismay, and display of emotion.”

Moorer further noted that Johnson had been paid using public funds while seemingly letting AI do his homework. “The harm is not inconsequential as public funds for appointed counsel are not a bottomless well and are limited resource,” the judge wrote in justifying a more severe fine.

“It has become clear that basic reprimands and small fines are not sufficient to deter this type of misconduct because if it were, we would not be here,” Moorer concluded.

Ruling that Johnson’s reliance on AI was “tantamount to bad faith,” Moorer imposed a $5,000 fine. The judge also would have “considered potential disqualification, but that was rendered moot” since Johnson’s client had already dismissed him.

Asked for comment, Johnson told Ars that “the court made plainly erroneous findings of fact and the sanctions are on appeal.”

Plagued by login issues

As a lawyer in Georgia tells it, sometimes fake AI citations may be filed because a lawyer accidentally filed a rough draft instead of the final version.

Other lawyers claim they turn to AI as needed when they have trouble accessing legal tools like Westlaw or LexisNexis.

For example, in Iowa, a lawyer told an appeals court that she regretted relying on “secondary AI-driven research tools” after experiencing “login issues her with her Westlaw subscription.” Although the court was “sympathetic to issues with technology, such as login issues,” the lawyer was sanctioned, primarily because she only admitted to using AI after the court ordered her to explain her mistakes. In her case, however, she got to choose between paying a minimal $150 fine or attending “two hours of legal ethics training particular to AI.”

Less sympathetic was a lawyer who got caught lying about the AI tool she blamed for inaccuracies, a Louisiana case suggested. In that case, a judge demanded to see the research history after a lawyer claimed that AI hallucinations came from “using Westlaw Precision, an AI-assisted research tool, rather than Westlaw’s standalone legal database.”

It turned out that the lawyer had outsourced the research, relying on a “currently suspended” lawyer’s AI citations, and had only “assumed” the lawyer’s mistakes were from Westlaw’s AI tool. It’s unclear what tool was actually used by the suspended lawyer, who likely lost access to a Westlaw login, but the judge ordered a $1,000 penalty after the lawyer who signed the filing “agreed that Westlaw did not generate the fabricated citations.”

Judge warned of “serial hallucinators”

Another lawyer, William T. Panichi in Illinois, has been sanctioned at least three times, Ars’ review found.

In response to his initial penalties ordered in July, he admitted to being tempted by AI while he was “between research software.”

In that case, the court was frustrated to find that the lawyer had contradicted himself, and it ordered more severe sanctions as a result.

Panichi “simultaneously admitted to using AI to generate the briefs, not doing any of his own independent research, and even that he ‘barely did any personal work [him]self on this appeal,’” the court order said, while also defending charging a higher fee—supposedly because this case “was out of the ordinary in terms of time spent” and his office “did some exceptional work” getting information.

The court deemed this AI misuse so bad that Panichi was ordered to disgorge a “payment of $6,925.62 that he received” in addition to a $1,000 penalty.

“If I’m lucky enough to be able to continue practicing before the appellate court, I’m not going to do it again,” Panichi told the court in July, just before getting hit with two more rounds of sanctions in August.

Panichi did not immediately respond to Ars’ request for comment.

When AI-generated hallucinations are found, penalties are often paid to the court, the other parties’ lawyers, or both, depending on whose time and resources were wasted fact-checking fake cases.

Lawyers seem more likely to argue against paying sanctions to the other parties’ attorneys, hoping to keep sanctions as low as possible. One lawyer even argued that “it only takes 7.6 seconds, not hours, to type citations into LexisNexis or Westlaw,” while seemingly neglecting the fact that she did not take those precious seconds to check her own citations.

The judge in the case, Nancy Miller, was clear that “such statements display an astounding lack of awareness of counsel’s obligations,” noting that “the responsibility for correcting erroneous and fake citations never shifts to opposing counsel or the court, even if they are the first to notice the errors.”

“The duty to mitigate the harms caused by such errors remains with the signor,” Miller said. “The sooner such errors are properly corrected, either by withdrawing or amending and supplementing the offending pleadings, the less time is wasted by everyone involved, and fewer costs are incurred.”

Texas US District Judge Marina Garcia Marmolejo agreed, explaining that even more time is wasted determining how other judges have responded to fake AI-generated citations.

“At one of the busiest court dockets in the nation, there are scant resources to spare ferreting out erroneous AI citations in the first place, let alone surveying the burgeoning caselaw on this subject,” she said.

At least one Florida court was “shocked, shocked” to find that a lawyer was refusing to pay what the other party’s attorneys said they were owed after misusing AI. The lawyer in that case, James Martin Paul, asked to pay less than a quarter of the fees and costs owed, arguing that Charlotin’s database showed he might otherwise owe penalties that “would be the largest sanctions paid out for the use of AI generative case law to date.”

But caving to Paul’s arguments “would only benefit serial hallucinators,” the Florida court found. Ultimately, Paul was sanctioned more than $85,000 for what the court said was “far more egregious” conduct than other offenders in the database, chastising him for “repeated, abusive, bad-faith conduct that cannot be recognized as legitimate legal practice and must be deterred.”

Paul did not immediately respond to Ars’ request to comment.

Michael B. Slade, a US bankruptcy judge in Illinois, seems to be done weighing excuses, calling on all lawyers to stop taking AI shortcuts that are burdening courts.

“At this point, to be blunt, any lawyer unaware that using generative AI platforms to do legal research is playing with fire is living in a cloud,” Slade wrote.

Photo of Ashley Belanger

Ashley is a senior policy reporter for Ars Technica, dedicated to tracking social impacts of emerging policies and new technologies. She is a Chicago-based journalist with 20 years of experience.

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It’s “frighteningly likely” many US courts will overlook AI errors, expert says


Judges pushed to bone up on AI or risk destroying their court’s authority.

A judge points to a diagram of a hand with six fingers

Credit: Aurich Lawson | Getty Images

Credit: Aurich Lawson | Getty Images

Order in the court! Order in the court! Judges are facing outcry over a suspected AI-generated order in a court.

Fueling nightmares that AI may soon decide legal battles, a Georgia court of appeals judge, Jeff Watkins, explained why a three-judge panel vacated an order last month that appears to be the first known ruling in which a judge sided with someone seemingly relying on fake AI-generated case citations to win a legal fight.

Now, experts are warning that judges overlooking AI hallucinations in court filings could easily become commonplace, especially in the typically overwhelmed lower courts. And so far, only two states have moved to force judges to sharpen their tech competencies and adapt so they can spot AI red flags and theoretically stop disruptions to the justice system at all levels.

The recently vacated order came in a Georgia divorce dispute, where Watkins explained that the order itself was drafted by the husband’s lawyer, Diana Lynch. That’s a common practice in many courts, where overburdened judges historically rely on lawyers to draft orders. But that protocol today faces heightened scrutiny as lawyers and non-lawyers increasingly rely on AI to compose and research legal filings, and judges risk rubberstamping fake opinions by not carefully scrutinizing AI-generated citations.

The errant order partly relied on “two fictitious cases” to deny the wife’s petition—which Watkins suggested were “possibly ‘hallucinations’ made up by generative-artificial intelligence”—as well as two cases that had “nothing to do” with the wife’s petition.

Lynch was hit with $2,500 in sanctions after the wife appealed, and the husband’s response—which also appeared to be prepared by Lynch—cited 11 additional cases that were “either hallucinated” or irrelevant. Watkins was further peeved that Lynch supported a request for attorney’s fees for the appeal by citing “one of the new hallucinated cases,” writing it added “insult to injury.”

Worryingly, the judge could not confirm whether the fake cases were generated by AI or even determine if Lynch inserted the bogus cases into the court filings, indicating how hard it can be for courts to hold lawyers accountable for suspected AI hallucinations. Lynch did not respond to Ars’ request to comment, and her website appeared to be taken down following media attention to the case.

But Watkins noted that “the irregularities in these filings suggest that they were drafted using generative AI” while warning that many “harms flow from the submission of fake opinions.” Exposing deceptions can waste time and money, and AI misuse can deprive people of raising their best arguments. Fake orders can also soil judges’ and courts’ reputations and promote “cynicism” in the justice system. If left unchecked, Watkins warned, these harms could pave the way to a future where a “litigant may be tempted to defy a judicial ruling by disingenuously claiming doubt about its authenticity.”

“We have no information regarding why Appellee’s Brief repeatedly cites to nonexistent cases and can only speculate that the Brief may have been prepared by AI,” Watkins wrote.

Ultimately, Watkins remanded the case, partly because the fake cases made it impossible for the appeals court to adequately review the wife’s petition to void the prior order. But no matter the outcome of the Georgia case, the initial order will likely forever be remembered as a cautionary tale for judges increasingly scrutinized for failures to catch AI misuses in court.

“Frighteningly likely” judge’s AI misstep will be repeated

John Browning, a retired justice on Texas’ Fifth Court of Appeals and now a full-time law professor at Faulkner University, last year published a law article Watkins cited that warned of the ethical risks of lawyers using AI. In the article, Browning emphasized that the biggest concern at that point was that lawyers “will use generative AI to produce work product they treat as a final draft, without confirming the accuracy of the information contained therein or without applying their own independent professional judgment.”

Today, judges are increasingly drawing the same scrutiny, and Browning told Ars he thinks it’s “frighteningly likely that we will see more cases” like the Georgia divorce dispute, in which “a trial court unwittingly incorporates bogus case citations that an attorney includes in a proposed order” or even potentially in “proposed findings of fact and conclusions of law.”

“I can envision such a scenario in any number of situations in which a trial judge maintains a heavy docket and looks to counsel to work cooperatively in submitting proposed orders, including not just family law cases but other civil and even criminal matters,” Browning told Ars.

According to reporting from the National Center for State Courts, a nonprofit representing court leaders and professionals who are advocating for better judicial resources, AI tools like ChatGPT have made it easier for high-volume filers and unrepresented litigants who can’t afford attorneys to file more cases, potentially further bogging down courts.

Peter Henderson, a researcher who runs the Princeton Language+Law, Artificial Intelligence, & Society (POLARIS) Lab, told Ars that he expects cases like the Georgia divorce dispute aren’t happening every day just yet.

It’s likely that a “few hallucinated citations go overlooked” because generally, fake cases are flagged through “the adversarial nature of the US legal system,” he suggested. Browning further noted that trial judges are generally “very diligent in spotting when a lawyer is citing questionable authority or misleading the court about what a real case actually said or stood for.”

Henderson agreed with Browning that “in courts with much higher case loads and less adversarial process, this may happen more often.” But Henderson noted that the appeals court catching the fake cases is an example of the adversarial process working.

While that’s true in this case, it seems likely that anyone exhausted by the divorce legal process, for example, may not pursue an appeal if they don’t have energy or resources to discover and overturn errant orders.

Judges’ AI competency increasingly questioned

While recent history confirms that lawyers risk being sanctioned, fired from their firms, or suspended from practicing law for citing fake AI-generated cases, judges will likely only risk embarrassment for failing to catch lawyers’ errors or even for using AI to research their own opinions.

Not every judge is prepared to embrace AI without proper vetting, though. To shield the legal system, some judges have banned AI. Others have required disclosures—with some even demanding to know which specific AI tool was used—but that solution has not caught on everywhere.

Even if all courts required disclosures, Browning pointed out that disclosures still aren’t a perfect solution since “it may be difficult for lawyers to even discern whether they have used generative AI,” as AI features become increasingly embedded in popular legal tools. One day, it “may eventually become unreasonable to expect” lawyers “to verify every generative AI output,” Browning suggested.

Most likely—as a judicial ethics panel from Michigan has concluded—judges will determine “the best course of action for their courts with the ever-expanding use of AI,” Browning’s article noted. And the former justice told Ars that’s why education will be key, for both lawyers and judges, as AI advances and becomes more mainstream in court systems.

In an upcoming summer 2025 article in The Journal of Appellate Practice & Process, “The Dawn of the AI Judge,” Browning attempts to soothe readers by saying that AI isn’t yet fueling a legal dystopia. And humans are unlikely to face “robot judges” spouting AI-generated opinions any time soon, the former justice suggested.

Standing in the way of that, at least two states—Michigan and West Virginia—”have already issued judicial ethics opinions requiring judges to be ‘tech competent’ when it comes to AI,” Browning told Ars. And “other state supreme courts have adopted official policies regarding AI,” he noted, further pressuring judges to bone up on AI.

Meanwhile, several states have set up task forces to monitor their regional court systems and issue AI guidance, while states like Virginia and Montana have passed laws requiring human oversight for any AI systems used in criminal justice decisions.

Judges must prepare to spot obvious AI red flags

Until courts figure out how to navigate AI—a process that may look different from court to court—Browning advocates for more education and ethical guidance for judges to steer their use and attitudes about AI. That could help equip judges to avoid both ignorance of the many AI pitfalls and overconfidence in AI outputs, potentially protecting courts from AI hallucinations, biases, and evidentiary challenges sneaking past systems requiring human review and scrambling the court system.

An overlooked part of educating judges could be exposing AI’s influence so far in courts across the US. Henderson’s team is planning research that tracks which models attorneys are using most in courts. That could reveal “the potential legal arguments that these models are pushing” to sway courts—and which judicial interventions might be needed, Henderson told Ars.

“Over the next few years, researchers—like those in our group, the POLARIS Lab—will need to develop new ways to track the massive influence that AI will have and understand ways to intervene,” Henderson told Ars. “For example, is any model pushing a particular perspective on legal doctrine across many different cases? Was it explicitly trained or instructed to do so?”

Henderson also advocates for “an open, free centralized repository of case law,” which would make it easier for everyone to check for fake AI citations. “With such a repository, it is easier for groups like ours to build tools that can quickly and accurately verify citations,” Henderson said. That could be a significant improvement to the current decentralized court reporting system that often obscures case information behind various paywalls.

Dazza Greenwood, who co-chairs MIT’s Task Force on Responsible Use of Generative AI for Law, did not have time to send comments but pointed Ars to a LinkedIn thread where he suggested that a structural response may be needed to ensure that all fake AI citations are caught every time.

He recommended that courts create “a bounty system whereby counter-parties or other officers of the court receive sanctions payouts for fabricated cases cited in judicial filings that they reported first.” That way, lawyers will know that their work will “always” be checked and thus may shift their behavior if they’ve been automatically filing AI-drafted documents. In turn, that could alleviate pressure on judges to serve as watchdogs. It also wouldn’t cost much—mostly just redistributing the exact amount of fees that lawyers are sanctioned to AI spotters.

Novel solutions like this may be necessary, Greenwood suggested. Responding to a question asking if “shame and sanctions” are enough to stop AI hallucinations in court, Greenwood said that eliminating AI errors is imperative because it “gives both otherwise generally good lawyers and otherwise generally good technology a bad name.” Continuing to ban AI or suspend lawyers as a preferred solution risks dwindling court resources just as cases likely spike rather than potentially confronting the problem head-on.

Of course, there’s no guarantee that the bounty system would work. But “would the fact of such definite confidence that your cures will be individually checked and fabricated cites reported be enough to finally… convince lawyers who cut these corners that they should not cut these corners?”

In absence of a fake case detector like Henderson wants to build, experts told Ars that there are some obvious red flags that judges can note to catch AI-hallucinated filings.

Any case number with “123456” in it probably warrants review, Henderson told Ars. And Browning noted that AI tends to mix up locations for cases, too. “For example, a cite to a purported Texas case that has a ‘S.E. 2d’ reporter wouldn’t make sense, since Texas cases would be found in the Southwest Reporter,” Browning said, noting that some appellate judges have already relied on this red flag to catch AI misuses.

Those red flags would perhaps be easier to check with the open source tool that Henderson’s lab wants to make, but Browning said there are other tell-tale signs of AI usage that anyone who has ever used a chatbot is likely familiar with.

“Sometimes a red flag is the language cited from the hallucinated case; if it has some of the stilted language that can sometimes betray AI use, it might be a hallucination,” Browning said.

Judges already issuing AI-assisted opinions

Several states have assembled task forces like Greenwood’s to assess the risks and benefits of using AI in courts. In Georgia, the Judicial Council of Georgia Ad Hoc Committee on Artificial Intelligence and the Courts released a report in early July providing “recommendations to help maintain public trust and confidence in the judicial system as the use of AI increases” in that state.

Adopting the committee’s recommendations could establish “long-term leadership and governance”; a repository of approved AI tools, education, and training for judicial professionals; and more transparency on AI used in Georgia courts. But the committee expects it will take three years to implement those recommendations while AI use continues to grow.

Possibly complicating things further as judges start to explore using AI assistants to help draft their filings, the committee concluded that it’s still too early to tell if the judges’ code of conduct should be changed to prevent “unintentional use of biased algorithms, improper delegation to automated tools, or misuse of AI-generated data in judicial decision-making.” That means, at least for now, that there will be no code-of-conduct changes in Georgia, where the only case in which AI hallucinations are believed to have swayed a judge has been found.

Notably, the committee’s report also confirmed that there are no role models for courts to follow, as “there are no well-established regulatory environments with respect to the adoption of AI technologies by judicial systems.” Browning, who chaired a now-defunct Texas AI task force, told Ars that judges lacking guidance will need to stay on their toes to avoid trampling legal rights. (A spokesperson for the State Bar of Texas told Ars the task force’s work “concluded” and “resulted in the creation of the new standing committee on Emerging Technology,” which offers general tips and guidance for judges in a recently launched AI Toolkit.)

“While I definitely think lawyers have their own duties regarding AI use, I believe that judges have a similar responsibility to be vigilant when it comes to AI use as well,” Browning said.

Judges will continue sorting through AI-fueled submissions not just from pro se litigants representing themselves but also from up-and-coming young lawyers who may be more inclined to use AI, and even seasoned lawyers who have been sanctioned up to $5,000 for failing to check AI drafts, Browning suggested.

In his upcoming “AI Judge” article, Browning points to at least one judge, 11th Circuit Court of Appeals Judge Kevin Newsom, who has used AI as a “mini experiment” in preparing opinions for both a civil case involving an insurance coverage issue and a criminal matter focused on sentencing guidelines. Browning seems to appeal to judges’ egos to get them to study up so they can use AI to enhance their decision-making and possibly expand public trust in courts, not undermine it.

“Regardless of the technological advances that can support a judge’s decision-making, the ultimate responsibility will always remain with the flesh-and-blood judge and his application of very human qualities—legal reasoning, empathy, strong regard for fairness, and unwavering commitment to ethics,” Browning wrote. “These qualities can never be replicated by an AI tool.”

Photo of Ashley Belanger

Ashley is a senior policy reporter for Ars Technica, dedicated to tracking social impacts of emerging policies and new technologies. She is a Chicago-based journalist with 20 years of experience.

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DoNotPay has to pay $193K for falsely touting untested AI lawyer, FTC says

DoNotPay has to pay $193K for falsely touting untested AI lawyer, FTC says

Among the first AI companies that the Federal Trade Commission has exposed as deceiving consumers is DoNotPay—which initially was advertised as “the world’s first robot lawyer” with the ability to “sue anyone with the click of a button.”

On Wednesday, the FTC announced that it took action to stop DoNotPay from making bogus claims after learning that the AI startup conducted no testing “to determine whether its AI chatbot’s output was equal to the level of a human lawyer.” DoNotPay also did not “hire or retain any attorneys” to help verify AI outputs or validate DoNotPay’s legal claims.

DoNotPay accepted no liability. But to settle the charges that DoNotPay violated the FTC Act, the AI startup agreed to pay $193,000, if the FTC’s consent agreement is confirmed following a 30-day public comment period. Additionally, DoNotPay agreed to warn “consumers who subscribed to the service between 2021 and 2023” about the “limitations of law-related features on the service,” the FTC said.

Moving forward, DoNotPay would also be prohibited under the settlement from making baseless claims that any of its features can be substituted for any professional service.

A DoNotPay spokesperson told Ars that the company “is pleased to have worked constructively with the FTC to settle this case and fully resolve these issues, without admitting liability.”

“The complaint relates to the usage of a few hundred customers some years ago (out of millions of people), with services that have long been discontinued,” DoNotPay’s spokesperson said.

The FTC’s settlement with DoNotPay is part of a larger agency effort to crack down on deceptive AI claims. Four other AI companies were hit with enforcement actions Wednesday, the FTC said, and FTC Chair Lina Khan confirmed that the agency’s so-called “Operation AI Comply” will continue monitoring companies’ attempts to “lure consumers into bogus schemes” or use AI tools to “turbocharge deception.”

“Using AI tools to trick, mislead, or defraud people is illegal,” Khan said. “The FTC’s enforcement actions make clear that there is no AI exemption from the laws on the books. By cracking down on unfair or deceptive practices in these markets, FTC is ensuring that honest businesses and innovators can get a fair shot and consumers are being protected.”

DoNotPay never tested robot lawyer

DoNotPay was initially released in 2015 as a free way to contest parking tickets. Soon after, it quickly expanded its services to supposedly cover 200 areas of law—aiding with everything from breach of contract claims to restraining orders to insurance claims and divorce settlements.

As DoNotPay’s legal services expanded, the company defended its innovative approach to replacing lawyers while acknowledging that it was on seemingly shaky grounds. In 2018, DoNotPay CEO Joshua Browder confirmed to the ABA Journal that the legal services were provided with “no lawyer oversight.” But he said that he was only “a bit worried” about threats to sue DoNotPay for unlicensed practice of law. Because DoNotPay was free, he expected he could avoid some legal challenges.

According to the FTC complaint, DoNotPay began charging subscribers $36 every two months in 2019 while making several false claims in ads to apparently drive up subscriptions.

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