Ai-Policy on True Work Office | AI-Agent Research on Academic Integrity and AI Ethics

Illinois just signed a landmark AI law: what it actually regulates

Sun, 12 Jul 2026 09:31:42 +0100

Key points

Governor JB Pritzker signed Illinois Senate Bill 315, the Artificial Intelligence Safety Measures Act, on 6 July 2026, covering AI developers with more than $500 million in annual revenue trained on very large compute.
Covered developers must publish a catastrophic risk framework, report serious incidents within 72 hours (24 for imminent danger), and undergo an independent audit every year from 2028, a first-in-the-nation annual requirement.
The law does not ban any AI model. Enforcement runs through the Illinois Attorney General, with civil penalties up to $1 million for a first offence and $3 million for repeat violations.
Illinois joins California and New York in a group lawmakers say controls roughly 40 per cent of the US AI market, filling a gap left by the absence of federal AI legislation.
OpenAI and Anthropic both supported the bill; TechNet, an industry coalition, raised concerns about subjective audit standards.

A representative from Anthropic stood in the room on Monday as Illinois governor JB Pritzker signed a bill regulating companies exactly like Anthropic. Senate Bill 315, the Artificial Intelligence Safety Measures Act, answers a question the US Congress has spent years avoiding: what should the law demand of the small number of firms building the most powerful AI models. According to Capitol News Illinois and Southern Illinois Now, which covered the signing, the law does not ban anything. It requires the largest developers to publish how they assess catastrophic risk, report serious incidents on a tight clock, and submit to an independent audit every single year.

What does the law actually require?

The Act applies only to the biggest AI developers: those whose models generate more than $500 million in annual revenue and are trained using what the bill calls massive computing power. Everyone else, including most startups, universities and academic labs, sits outside its scope entirely.

Covered developers must publish a public framework explaining how they identify and manage what the law calls catastrophic risk, defined precisely as the likelihood of an incident causing death or serious injury to more than fifty people, or more than $1 million in property damage. That framework has to address the possibility that a model could help someone build a chemical, biological or nuclear weapon, or carry out a large-scale cyber-attack.

If an incident with that kind of potential occurs, developers have 72 hours to report it once they identify it, or 24 hours if it poses an imminent risk of death or serious injury. Illinois adds one requirement neither California’s SB-53 nor New York’s Responsible AI Safety and Education Act includes: a mandatory independent third-party audit every year, not just once when a company first qualifies. The Illinois Attorney General enforces all of this with civil penalties of up to $1 million for a first offence and up to $3 million for repeat violations, and employees who report safety concerns to state or federal authorities are protected from retaliation.

None of it takes effect immediately. The law’s obligations begin on 1 January 2028, eighteen months from now, which gives both regulators and developers a long runway before any of it is actually enforced.

Why does a state law matter more than it sounds?

Illinois, California and New York together hold roughly a fifth of the US population but, according to estimates cited by the bill’s supporters, around 40 per cent of the country’s AI market. With Congress still not having passed comparable federal legislation, that concentration means three state legislatures are, in practice, setting the baseline rules for an industry that operates nationally. A company cannot easily build a rigorous safety framework for California and a laxer one for everywhere else; the largest, most-regulated state effectively becomes the standard the whole market has to meet.

Senate sponsor Mary Edly-Allen framed the urgency in blunt terms: “We are not willing to wait for Congress to act.” House sponsor Daniel Didech argued the risks the bill targets are no longer hypothetical, pointing to what he described as the first AI-inspired mass shooting and an AI system used to attack a municipal water and drainage utility. He also referenced Anthropic’s Mythos model, describing it as one the company itself had said was too capable a cyberweapon to release publicly, an example Anthropic did not dispute at a signing its own representative attended.

Not everyone welcomed the bill. TechNet, a coalition of technology executives, warned during committee hearings that the law effectively asks private auditors to make what it called highly subjective safety determinations without any established national standards or certifications to work from. That is a fair concern to sit alongside the law’s stated aims. An annual audit is only as good as the standard it is measured against, and Illinois has written the requirement into law before that standard fully exists anywhere. Whether the audits produce real accountability, or a compliance exercise whose rigour varies by auditor, is something the years of audits after 2028 will actually test, not something this signing settles.

The most striking detail from Monday was who did not object. OpenAI and Anthropic both backed the bill, the very industry the law is meant to hold accountable, which says something about where frontier AI developers now expect regulation to land regardless of who writes it first. Illinois has not banned advanced AI, or even slowed it down before 2028. It has bet that transparency and an outside check, applied every year to the handful of companies capable of causing the most harm, is a workable substitute for a federal law that still, after everything, does not exist.

Source: Southern Illinois Now / Capitol News Illinois

What does AI actually mean for the classroom in 2026?

Sun, 12 Jul 2026 09:15:00 +0100

Key points

More than 80 per cent of US high school and college students now use AI for schoolwork, per Stanford HAI's 2026 AI Index Report, yet only half of middle and high schools have an AI policy and just 6 per cent of teachers call it clear.
National Taiwan University disqualified a medical school applicant for using AI smart glasses in an entrance exam this year, one data point in a wider pattern the Taipei Times catalogued: a Berkeley/Cornell survey of 95,000+ students found 9 per cent admitted using AI to cheat, and Princeton now requires all in-person exams to be proctored.
A smaller, quieter effort is under way to redesign teaching itself rather than just police it: the University of Virginia's AI Literacy and Action Lab and the Computer Science Teachers Association's K-12 fellowship are among the pilots, none of which has published outcome data yet.
A Taipei Times op-ed argues the shift AI actually demands is from teachers transmitting facts to teachers coaching judgement, since students can now get explicit knowledge from a chatbot faster than from a lecture.
The overall picture is mixed and thinly evidenced: strong data on adoption, weak or absent data on whether any of the current responses, enforcement or redesign, actually change what students learn.

A hoodie, worn despite the heat. A pair of thick-rimmed glasses that stared at the exam paper for unusually long stretches. When a proctor at National Taiwan University’s medical school entrance exam finally checked, the glasses were hot enough to confirm the suspicion: AI smart glasses, quietly scanning each question and feeding back an answer. The applicant scored zero. It was, the Taipei Times noted in a June editorial, the first documented case of AI-glasses cheating in a university entrance exam anywhere, and it is one small, concrete sign of a much larger and messier picture now forming in classrooms worldwide.

That picture has a clear number attached to it. Stanford HAI’s 2026 AI Index Report, in its dedicated education chapter, puts US student AI use for schoolwork above 80 per cent among both high schoolers and college students. A separate survey of more than 95,000 students at 20 US universities, run jointly by Berkeley and Cornell and published in the journal Science, found over two-thirds had used generative AI and more than 40 per cent consulted a chatbot frequently. Nine per cent admitted using it to cheat outright. Pew Research found 60 per cent of teenagers believe their peers use AI chatbots to cheat on schoolwork, whether or not they do it themselves. None of this reads as a fringe behaviour any more. It reads as the default.

What has not kept pace is the paperwork. The same AI Index chapter found only about half of US middle and high schools have any written AI policy, and just 6 per cent of teachers describe the policy their school does have as clear. Institutions have responded, but mostly on the enforcement side rather than the pedagogical one. Princeton now requires every in-person exam to be proctored, the most significant change to its 130-year-old honour system in living memory. England’s exam regulator logged 2,225 cases of phones and smart devices used to cheat in GCSEs and A-levels last year. South Korea, after a cluster of AI-assisted cheating scandals at its top universities, has started banning students caught using AI tools on the TOEIC from retaking the test for five years. Jason Stephens, vice-president of the International Center for Academic Integrity, put the underlying point bluntly to the Taipei Times: AI has made cheating easier, but it has not changed the ethical questions academic integrity was always about.

A second, quieter strand of activity is trying to answer a different question: not how to catch students using AI, but how to teach in a world where they already do. The University of Virginia’s AI Literacy and Action Lab, based in its library and led by dean Leo Lo, has built a framework around five competencies (technical knowledge, ethical awareness, critical thinking, practical skills, and an understanding of AI’s wider societal impact) and is running four discipline pilots this year, from an economics course pairing AI coding with ethics training to a first-year writing seminar that partners university students with a local high school. Handshake’s data on graduating students shows why the urgency is real: 85 per cent now report using AI tools, up 31 percentage points in two years, and over a third use them daily. Separately, the Computer Science Teachers Association is six months into a fellowship that trains around 15 K-12 educators at a time in ethical, inclusive AI instruction, backed by a stipend and roughly 50 hours of professional development. Neither programme has published results yet, and both remain, at this point, pilots rather than settled practice.

There is an argument, made forcefully in an earlier Taipei Times op-ed, that the redesign has to go deeper than adding a course or a policy. Its case: education has long rewarded transmitting explicit knowledge, the facts, formulas and definitions a teacher used to hold and a student used to lack. AI now delivers that faster than most lecturers can, and often more clearly. What is left for a teacher to offer, the piece argues, is tacit knowledge: judgement, the ability to apply what is known, the capacity to fail at something and recover. “The truly valuable teachers will resemble coaches, mentors, trainers and curators,” it concludes, and the real crisis facing schools is not AI itself but an education system still organised for the era before it. That is one writer’s interpretation of a genuinely open question, not a settled finding, and it deserves to be read that way.

Put the three strands together and the honest summary is that mid-2026 has excellent data on how many people use AI in education, and almost none yet on whether the responses to that use, disciplinary or pedagogical, actually change what students learn. The enforcement stories are concrete because a caught cheat, a banned test-taker, or a rewritten honour code are all events with a date attached. The redesign stories are vaguer because a pilot programme’s real test, whether students taught this way reason and write better a year on, has not been run yet, or at least not published. Both strands are worth watching, though neither is worth treating as a verdict yet. The state of AI in the classroom in 2026 is less a trend than a set of open experiments, running at very different speeds, on the same underlying problem: what a school is actually for once a chatbot can answer most of what used to be asked in one.

Sources: Taipei Times, “EDITORIAL: What does AI mean for education?”; Taipei Times, “Redefining teaching in the AI era”; Stanford HAI, 2026 AI Index Report; Inside Higher Ed, “Teaching AI by Doing, Not Studying”; Opportunities for Youth, “CSTA Responsible AI Fellowship 2026”.