In a dimly lit bedroom, a frightened young woman is thrown onto a bed by a tall, muscular man. He grabs her hand, and flame-like vines crawl across her body, fusing with her flesh. She levitates, then drops. A dragon-shaped tattoo appears across her chest.
“Two months,” the man says. “Give me an heir, or I will eat you.”
The scene is from Carrying the Dragon King’s Baby, one of the many hundreds of short dramas that appear on apps like DramaWave and ReelShort. There’s just something about this one that isn’t quite right. The lighting may be glossy and cinematic, but the show has an odd visual texture like something between a movie and a video game cutscene.
That’s because Carrying the Dragon King’s Baby is part of a new trend for making these shows entirely with AI: no actors, camera operators, cinematographers, or CGI specialists required.
China’s short drama industry has boomed since its launch, in 2018. These ultrashort, melodramatic, and often smutty shows are designed for smartphone viewing, with episodes often running just one or two minutes long: Viewers can finish an entire series in as little as 30 minutes to an hour. The films are made for endless scrolling, packed with emotional confrontations and melodramatic plot twists. The trend’s growth is driven by apps that bombard TikTok, Instagram, and Facebook with cliffhanger-heavy ads designed to lure viewers into buying subscriptions. In 2024, China’s short drama market reached roughly $6.9 billion in revenue, surpassing the country’s annual box office earnings for the first time.
Since 2022, Chinese short drama companies have aggressively expanded overseas, translating existing hits and producing localized series featuring local actors. Globally, short drama apps have approached a billion cumulative downloads. The United States is the biggest market outside of China, providing around 50% of the revenue, according to research firm DataEye.
Now the industry is reinventing itself. Chinese short drama companies—already masters of low-budget, algorithmically optimized entertainment—are embracing generative AI to produce content faster and cheaper than ever. An average of 470 AI-generated short dramas were released every day in January, according to DataEye. Short-drama companies like Kunlun Tech are ramping up AI productions, shrinking film crews, and reorganizing the labor pipeline from the ground up. For some studios, AI has moved from being a supporting tool to providing the backbone of production itself.
Infinite stories, infinite tropes
Short dramas are already famously low-budget. But AI has made them dramatically cheaper to mass-produce, helping to accelerate the entire process—and save money. Production timelines have collapsed. Conceptualization, script writing, casting, shooting, and editing used to take three to four months. With AI, the process can now take less than a month, says Tang Tang, vice president at short-drama platform FlexTV. Producing a short drama in North America once cost roughly $200,000, but AI can cut that cost by 80% to 90%, according to Tang.
After expanding into the US market, Chinese short drama companies largely followed the same playbook they used in China: Buy traffic aggressively on TikTok, Facebook, and YouTube; offer a handful of free episodes; then charge viewers to unlock the rest inside the companies’ apps. Decisions about what to produce next are often driven less by creative instinct than by performance data. “We look at what themes, plotlines, and writers resonate with audiences, then quickly adjust,” says Tang.
The industry operates at a relentless pace. “Everyone expects quick returns,” Tang says. “In China, if a series doesn’t break even within a month, the industry considers it a failure.”
As a result, screenwriters who spoke with MIT Technology Review said platforms often categorize projects using highly specific keywords that encompass everything from genre and setting to plot structure, such as “campus romance,” “gang rivalry,” “enemies to lovers,” or “rags to riches.” Recently, one of the most popular genres has been “reborn revenge,” a fantasy trope in which a wronged protagonist is miraculously reborn and given a chance to change their fate.
“You kind of have to keep the emotional intensity extremely high throughout the show, using the same plot devices over and over again: sudden deaths, betrayals, physical violence, huge confrontations,” says Phoenix Zhu, a freelance short drama screenwriter based in Suzhou. “It’s common to sacrifice narrative logic for shock value, because otherwise people are more likely to scroll away.”
Those simple tropes have made the format particularly compatible with AI-generated production. Earlier this year, FlexTV halted all traditionally shot productions and shifted entirely to AI-generated dramas. Kunlun Tech, the parent company of drama apps DramaWave and FreeReels, began producing AI-generated short dramas in 2025 and now offers more than 1,000 AI titles on its platforms. StoReels, another popular short drama company targeting a global audience, has said it aims to produce 100 AI-generated dramas per month.
“People’s attention spans are getting shorter, and serialized drama naturally has to get shorter,” says Han “Daniel” Fang, the CEO of Kunlun Tech. Fang told MIT Technology Review that the company is not going to stop investing in traditionally shot short dramas with real actors. But the company is expanding AI-generated productions and gradually increasing their share on its platforms as a low-cost way to experiment with new genres, themes, and ideas. “We want to bring the amount of AI work to 20% of the platform,” Fang says.
The format is also rapidly growing overseas. Research firm Omdia estimates that the global microdrama market reached $11 billion in 2025 and will grow to $14 billion by the end of 2026. The United States is expected to generate $1.5 billion in revenue in that market this year.
“No one comes to short dramas expecting high art,” says investor Shangguan Hong, former partner of Legend Capital. “The short-drama industry already stands out from traditional TV and filmmaking by being real-time and data-driven. AI only furthers that logic. In a sense, short drama is perfectly compatible with AI.”
Inside the content machine
The industry’s AI revolution is already changing the type of roles required to make short dramas.
Phoenix Zhu graduated from college in 2024 with a degree in philosophy. After months of rejections from traditional media and film studios, she eventually found work writing scripts for short dramas. “It was a very difficult job market for young people,” Zhu says. “I couldn’t afford to be picky about what I wrote.”
To support herself, Zhu worked a string of part-time jobs, including as a barista, a flower seller, and an event coordinator, while taking freelance writing gigs online for advertising and education companies. In April 2025, she sold her first short-drama script for around 20,000 yuan (approximately $2,945). More commissions followed, and she thought her career was finally beginning to pick up.
Then AI arrived. Two projects already in the contract stage were abruptly canceled, Zhu says. Rates across the industry began falling. The raises she expected as she gained more experience never materialized.
Still, writers like Zhu have been among the less disrupted workers in the industry. Many production roles on traditional filming sets have disappeared almost entirely from AI-generated productions.
“We could shrink the production team down to around 10 people,” says Tang, vice president at FlexTV. Like many companies in the industry, FlexTV relies primarily on Chinese writers and production teams, even for shows featuring non-Chinese characters and targeting overseas audiences. The reason is not just lower costs, Tang says, but also that Chinese writers better understand the pacing and narrative rhythm of short dramas.
Instead of camera crews, lighting technicians, makeup artists, and visual effects teams, AI productions now rely on smaller groups consisting largely of producers, writers, AI directors, and “AI asset curators.”
An AI asset curator translates scripts into prompts and generates reference images of characters, costumes, and scenes for AI video models to follow. MIT Technology Review found hundreds of job listings for the role on Chinese job sites, many requiring little prior industry experience beyond familiarity with AI tools.
“The technology has improved enormously just in the past few months,” says Hanzhong Bai, an AI short-drama producer based in Beijing. Bai says it is common for AI asset curators to use prompts like “combine the faces of these celebrities I like” when generating characters. Studios typically use a mix of tools, including Google’s image-generation model Nano Banana, ByteDance’s Seedance, and Kuaishou’s Kling.
For producers like Bai, AI also makes it economically viable to produce genres that were previously too expensive for short dramas, especially fantasy series requiring elaborate visual effects, costumes, or makeup. “We’ll see many more dragon and mermaid shows for exactly this reason,” Bai says.
The compressed production cycle has also changed the writing process itself. Writers once had two to three months to finish a script. Now, Zhu says, platforms often expect delivery within a month. Scripts can also be rougher and more flexible, since scenes, visuals, and even plot details can be changed later through prompts.
As a result, writers increasingly have to write for AI models as much as for human audiences. Zhu says she now has to describe scenes with far greater visual specificity, effectively taking on responsibilities once handled by cinematographers or visual effects teams.
“Before AI, writing ‘He gave her a cold stare’ might have been enough,” Zhu says. “Now I might need to write, ‘Cold beams of light shot out from his eyes.’”
Fang of Kunlun Tech believes the future quality of AI-generated short dramas is ultimately a numbers game. “Good ideas and good writing still stand out,” Fang says. “The quality [of AI short drama] will improve simply because more people with strong ideas will be able to make their shows.”
Background: Difficulty understanding speech in noisy environments is a primary challenge of hearing impairment, inadequately addressed by hearing aids alone. While auditory training can enhance selective attention and speech perception, current digital programs face poor user adherence and lack realistic 3D spatial audio. Objective: This pilot study evaluated the feasibility, usability, and preliminary efficacy of ARIA (Augmented Reality Immersive Auditory training), a handheld mobile intervention that provides gamified at-home auditory training to middle-aged adults via earbud-delivered spatial audio. Methods: In this single-arm, pre-post–follow-up pilot study, 11 adults (mean age 53.0, SD 3.0 y) with functional hearing not requiring amplification completed a 4-week at-home training program using ARIA on provided devices (iPhone 14 Pro, AirPods Pro 2). Speech-in-noise perception was assessed via the Korean Matrix Sentence Test at baseline, 4 weeks, and 8 weeks at 3 signal-to-noise ratios (SNRs; 0 dB, −6 dB, and −9 dB, respectively). Feasibility, usability (System Usability Scale), user experience (Player Experience of Need Satisfaction), in-game performance, and qualitative feedback were collected. Results: Protocol completion was 100% (11/11), demonstrating technical feasibility. Exploratory efficacy analyses revealed statistically significant speech-in-noise improvements posttraining across all conditions (0 dB: =3.43, =.02; −6 dB: =5.34, <.001; −9 dB: =4.34=.004). Gains were maintained at the 8-week follow-up. In-game localization improvements correlated significantly with speech perception gains at −6 dB SNR (ρ=0.639; =.03) and −9 dB SNR (ρ=0.612; =.045). User experience showed mixed results: the mean System Usability Scale score was 70.2 (SD 19.6; range 47.5‐92.5), reflecting substantial individual differences in usability perception. While 72% (n=8) reported difficulties with the augmented reality (AR) environmental setup, 63% reported genuine mastery-driven engagement with core gameplay. Thematic analysis revealed a dissociation between peripheral usability challenges (setup friction, “homework” characterization due to protocol structure) and successful engagement with the training paradigm itself. Conclusions: This pilot demonstrated the feasibility of AR-based audio-motor training for at-home delivery and revealed encouraging preliminary efficacy signals, warranting progression to controlled efficacy trials. Formative findings identified specific usability refinements needed for broader implementation, particularly streamlining AR setup while preserving the core gameplay elements that successfully fostered competence and engagement. These insights provide clear guidance for platform optimization and randomized controlled trial design.
I want to bring your attention to “The Deadliest Drug,” a new STAT investigative series about our nation’s failure to address excessive alcohol use, and how it goes unimpeded as a top cause of disease, injury, and death.
When Jennifer got a job doing research for a nonprofit in 2023, she ran her new professional headshot through a facial recognition program. She wanted to see if the tech would pull up the porn videos she’d made more than 10 years before, when she was in her early 20s. It did in fact return some of that content, and also something alarming that she’d never seen before: one of her old videos, but with someone else’s face on her body.
“At first, I thought it was just a different person,” says Jennifer, who is being identified by a pseudonym to protect her privacy.
But then she recognized a distinctly garish background from a video she’d shot around 2013, and she realized: “Somebody used me in a deepfake.”
Eerily, the facial recognition tech had identified her because the image still contained some of Jennifer’s features—her cheekbones, her brow, the shape of her chin. “It’s like I’m wearing somebody else’s face like a mask,” she says.
“It’s like I’m wearing somebody else’s face like a mask.”
Conversations about sexualized deepfakes—which fall under the umbrella of nonconsensual intimate imagery, or NCII—most often center on the people whose faces are featured doing something they didn’t really do or on bodies that aren’t really theirs. These are often popular celebrities, though over the past few years more people (mostly women and sometimes youths) have been targeted, sparking alarm, fear, and even legislation. But these discussions and societal responses usually are not concerned with the bodies the faces are attached to in these images and videos.
As Jennifer, now 37 and a psychotherapist working in New York City, says: “There’s never any discussion about Whose body is this?”
For years, the answerhas generally been adult content creators. Deepfakes in fact earned their name back in November 2017, when someone with the Reddit username “deepfakes” uploaded videos showing faces of stars like Scarlett Johansson and Gal Gadot pasted onto porn actors’ bodies. The nonconsensual use of their bodies “happens all the time” in deepfakes, says Corey Silverstein, an attorney specializing in the adult industry.
But more recently, as generative AI has improved, and as “nudify” apps have begun to proliferate, the issue has grown far more complicated—and, arguably, more dangerous for creators’ futures.
Porn actors’ bodies aren’t necessarily being taken directly from sexual images and videos anymore, or at least not in an identifiable way. Instead, they are inevitably being used as training data to inform how new AI-generated bodies look, move, and perform. This threatens the livelihood and rights of porn actors as their work is used to train AI nudes that in turn could take away their business. And that’s not all: Advancements in AI have also made it possible for people to wholly re-create these performers’ likenesses without their consent, and the AI copycats may do things the performers wouldn’t do in real life. This could mean their digital doubles are participating in certain sex acts that they haven’t agreed to do, or even that they’re perpetrating scams against fans.
Adult content creators are already marginalized by a society that largely fails to protect their safety and rights, and these developments put them in an even more vulnerable position. After Jennifer found the deepfake featuring her body, she posted on social media about the psychological effects: “I’ve never seen anyone ask whether that might be traumatic for the person whose body was used without consent too. IT IS!” Several other creators I spoke with shared the mental toll that comes with knowing their bodies have been used nonconsensually, as well as the fear that they’ll suffer financially as other people pirate their work. Silverstein says he hears from adult actors every day who “are concerned that their content is being exploited via AI, and they’re trying to figure out how to protect it.”
One law professor and expert in violence against women calls these creators the “forgotten victims” of NCII deepfakes. And several of the people I spoke with worry that as the US develops a legal framework to combat nonconsensual sexual content online, adult actors are only at risk of further injury; instead of helping them, the crackdown on deepfakes may provide a loophole through which their content and careers could be stripped from the internet altogether.
How deepfakes cause “embodied harms”
During his preteen years in the 1970s, Spike Irons, now a porn actor and president of the adult content platform XChatFans, was “in love” with Farrah Fawcett. Though Fawcett did not pose nude, Jones managed to get his hands on what looked like pictures of her naked. “People were cutting out faces and pasting them on bodies,” Irons says. “Deepfakes, before AI, had been going around for quite a while. They just weren’t as prolific.”
The early public internet was rife with websites capitalizing on the idea that you could use technology to “see” celebrities naked. “People would just use Microsoft Paint,” says Silverstein, the attorney. It was a simple way to mash up celebrities’ faces with porn.
People later used software like Adobe After Effects or FakeApp, which was designed to swap two individuals’ faces in images or videos. None of these programs required serious expertise to alter content, so there was a low barrier to entry. That, plus the wealth of porn performers’ videos online, helped make face-swap deepfakes that used real bodies prevalent by the 2010s. When, later in the decade, deepfakes of Gal Gadot and Emma Watson caused something of a broader panic, their faces were allegedly swapped onto the bodies of the porn actors Pepper XO and Mary Moody, respectively.
But it wasn’t just high-profile actors like them whose bodies were being used. Jennifer was “a very minor performer,” she says. “If it happened to me, I feel like it could happen to anybody who’s shot porn.” Since he started his practice in 2006, Silverstein says, “numerous clients” have reached out to report “This is my body on so-and-so.”
Both people whose faces appear in NCII deepfakes and those whose bodies are used this way can feel serious distress. Experts call this type of damage “embodied harms,” says Anne Craanen, who researches gender-based violence at the UK’s Institute for Strategic Dialogue, an organization that analyzes extremist content, disinformation, and online threats.
The term reflects the fact that even though the content exists in the virtual realm, it can cause physiological effects, including body dysmorphia. The face-swapped entity occupies the uncanny valley, distorting self-perception. After discovering their faces in sexual deepfakes, many people feel silenced, experts told me; they may “self-censor,” as Craanen puts it, and step back from public-facing life. Allison Mahoney, an attorney who works with abuse survivors, says that people whose faces appear in NCII can experience depression, anxiety, and suicidal ideation: “I’ve had multiple clients tell me that they don’t sleep at night, that they’re losing their hair.”
Independent creators aren’t just “having sex on camera.” For someone to rip off their work “for their own entertainment or financial gain fucking sucks.”
Though the impact on people whose bodies are used hasn’t been discussed or studied as often, Jennifer says that “it’s just a really terrible feeling, knowing that you are part of somebody else’s abuse.” She sees it as akin to “a new form of sexual violence.”
The uncertainty that comes with not being aware of what your body is doing online can be highly unsettling. Like Jennifer, many adult actors don’t really know what’s out there. But some devoted followers know the actors’ bodies well—often recognizing tattoos, scars, or birthmarks—and “very quickly they bring [deepfakes] to the adult performer’s attention,” says Silverstein. Or performers will stumble upon the content by chance; some 20 years ago, for instance, the first such client to tell Silverstein her body was being used in a deepfake happened to be searching Nicole Kidman online when she found that one of the results showed Kidman’s face on her porn. “She was devastated, obviously, because they took her body,” he says, “and they were monetizing it.”
Otherwise, this imagery may be found by an organization like Takedown Piracy, one of several copyright enforcement companies serving adult content creators. US copyright violations can be challenging to prove if someone’s body lacks distinguishing features, says Reba Rocket, Takedown Piracy’s chief operating and marketing officer. But Rocket says her team has added digital fingerprinting technology to clients’ material to help flag and remove problematic videos, often finding them before clients realize they’re online.
By capturing “tens of thousands of tiny little visual data points” from videos, digital fingerprinting creates unique corresponding files that can be used to identify them, Rocket says—kind of like an invisible watermark. The prints remain even if pirates alter the videos or replace performers’ faces. Takedown Piracy has digitally fingerprinted more than half a billion videos and the organization has gotten 130 million copyrighted videos taken down from Google alone (though, of those videos, Rocket hasn’t tracked how many of these specifically include someone else’s face on a performer’s body).
Besides copyright, a range of legal tools can be used to try and combat NCII, says Eric Goldman, a law professor at Santa Clara University. For example, victims can claim invasion of privacy. But using these tools isn’t particularly straightforward, and they may not even apply when it comes to someone’s body. If there aren’t, for instance, unique markers indicating that a body in a deepfake belongs to the person who says it does, US law “doesn’t really treat [this content] as invasion of privacy,” Goldman says, “because we don’t know who to attribute it to.”
In a 2018 study that reviewed “judicial resolution” of cases involving NCII, Goldman found that one successful way plaintiffs were able to win cases was to assert “intentional affliction of emotional distress.” But again, that hinges on the ability to clearly identify the person in the content. Relevant statutes, he adds, might also require “intent to harm the individual,” which may be hard to show for people whose bodies alone are featured.
“AI girls will do whatever you want”
In the last few years, Silverstein says, it’s become less and less common to see the bodies of real adult content creators in deepfakes, at least in a way that makes them clearly identifiable.
Sometimes the bodies have been manipulated using AI or simpler editing tools. This can be as basic as erasing a birthmark or changing the size of a body part—minor edits that make it impossible to identify someone’s image beyond a reasonable doubt, so even porn actors who can tell that an altered image used their body as a base won’t get very far in the legal realm. “A lot of people are like, That looks like my body,” says Silverstein, but when he asks them how, they’ll reply, It just does.
At the same time, other users are now creating NCII with wholly AI-generated bodies. In “nudify” apps, anyone with a minimal grasp of technology can upload a photo of someone’s clothed body and have it replaced with a fake naked one. “So [much] of this content being created is just someone’s face on an AI body,” Silverstein says.
Such apps have drawn a ton of attention recently, from Grok “nudifying” minors to Meta running ads for—and then suing—the nudify app Crushmate. But there’s been relatively little attention paid to the content being used to train them. They almost certainly draw on the more than 10,000 terabytes of online porn, and performers have virtually zero recourse.
One reason is that creators aren’t able to demonstrate with any certainty that their content is being used to train AI models like those used by nudify apps. “These things are all a black box,” says Hany Farid, a professor at the University of California, Berkeley, who specializes in digital forensics. But “given the ubiquity” of adult content, he adds, it’s a “reasonable assumption” that online porn is being used in AI training.
“It’s just not at all difficult to come up with pornographic data sets on the internet,” says Stephen Casper, a computer science PhD student at MIT who researches deepfakes. What’s more, he says, plenty of shadowy online communities provide “user guides” on how to use this data to train AI, and in particular programs that generate nudes.
It’s not certain whether this activity falls within the US legal definition of “fair use”—an issue that’s currently being litigated in several lawsuits from other types of content creators—but Casper argues that even if it does, it’s ethically murky for porn created by consenting adults 10 years ago to wind up in those training data sets. When people “have their stuff used in a way that doesn’t respect or reflect reasonable expectations that they had at that time about what they were creating and how it would be used,” he says, there’s “a legitimate sense in which it’s kind of … nonconsensual.”
Adult performers who started working years ago couldn’t possibly have consented to AI anything; Jennifer calls AI-related risks “retroactively placed.” Contracts that porn actors signed before AI, adds Silverstein, might provide that “the publisher could do anything with the content using technology that now exists or here and after will be discovered.” That felt more innocuous when producers were talking about the shift from VHS to DVD, because that didn’t change the content itself, just the way it was conveyed. It’s a far different prospect for someone to use your content to train a program to create new content … content that could replace your work altogether.
Of course, this all affects creators’ bottom line—not unlike the way Google’s AI overviews affect revenue for online publishers who’ve stopped getting clicks when people are content with just reading AI-generated summaries. Performers’ “concern is … it’s another way to pirate [their] content,” says Rocket.
After all, independent creators aren’t just “having sex on camera,” as the adult content creator Allie Eve Knox says. They’re paying for filming equipment and location rentals, and then spending hours editing and marketing. For someone to then rip off and distort that content “for their own entertainment or financial gain,” she says, “fucking sucks.”
KIM HOECKELE
Tanya Tate, a longtime adult content creator, tells me about another highly unsettling AI-created situation: She was recently chatting with a fan on Mynx, a sexting app, when he asked her if she knew him. She told him no, and “his eyes just started watering,” Tate says. He was upset because he thought she did know him. Turns out he’d sent $20,000 to a scammer who’d used an AI-generated deepfake of Tate to seduce him.
Several men, Tate subsequently learned, had been scammed by an AI version of her, and some of them began blaming her for their losses and posting false statements about her online. When she reported one particularly aggressive harasser to the police, they told her he was exercising his “freedom of speech,” she says. Rocket, too, is familiar with situations where AI is used to take advantage of fans. “The actual content creator will get nasty emails from these people who’ve been scammed,” she says.
Other porn actors say they fear that their likenesses have been used without consent to do other things they wouldn’t do. One, Octavia Red, tells me she doesn’t do anal scenes, “but I’m sure there’s tons of deepfake anal videos of me that I didn’t consent to.” That could cost her, she fears, if viewers choose to watch those videos instead of subscribing to her websites. And it could cause fans to develop false expectations about what kind of porn she’ll create.
“I saw one AI creator saying, ‘Well, AI girls will do whatever you want. They don’t say no,’” says Rocket. “That horrifies me … especially if they’re training those AI models on real people. I don’t think they understand the damage to mental health or reputation that that can create. And once it’s on the internet, it’s there forever.”
Efforts to “scrub adult content from the internet”
As AI technology improves, it’s increasingly difficult for people to discern any type of real video from the best AI-generated ones on their own. In one 2025 study, UC Berkeley’s Farid found that participants correctly identified AI-generated voices about 60% of the time (not much better than random chance), while advances like false heartbeats make AI-generated humans tougher than ever to spot.
Nevertheless, most lawyers and legal experts I spoke with said copyright laws are still adult performers’ best bet in the US legal system, at least for getting their face-swapped content taken down. For his clients, Silverstein says, he tries to figure out the content’s origins and then issue takedown requests under the Digital Millennium Copyright Act, a 1998 law that adapted copyright law for the internet era. “Even recently, I had a performer who has an insanely well-known tattoo,” he says, and with a DMCA subpoena he managed to identify the poster of the content, who voluntarily removed it.
But this way of working is becoming increasingly rare.
These days it’s nearly “impossible,” Silverstein says, to determine who produced a deepfake, because many platforms that host pirated content operate facelessly. They’re also often based in places that “don’t really care about US law when it comes to copyrights,” says Rocket—places like Russia, the Seychelles, and the Netherlands.
While governments in the EU, the UK, and Australia have said they will ban or restrict access to nudify apps, it’s not an easily executed proposition. As Craanen notes, when app stores remove these services, they often simply reappear under different names, providing the same services. And social platforms where people share NCII deepfakes, argues Rocket, are slacking in getting them removed. “It’s endless, and it’s ridiculous, because places like Twitter and Facebook have the same technology we do,” Rocket says. “They can identify something as an infringement instantly, but they choose not to.”
(Apple spokesperson Adam Dema emailed, “’nudification’ apps are against our guidelines” in the app store, and it has “proactively rejected many of these apps and removed many others,” flagging a reporting portal for users. A Google spokesperson emailed, “Google Play does not allow apps that contain sexual content,” noting it takes “proactive steps to detect and remove apps with harmful content” and has suspended hundreds of apps for violating its policy. Meta spokesperson shared a blog post about actions it’s taken against nudify apps, but did not respond to follow-up questions about copyrighted material. X did not respond to a request for comment.)
As porn performers are forced to navigate AI-related threats, the only current federal law to address deepfakes may not help them much—and could even make matters worse. The Take It Down Act, which became US law last year, criminalizes publishing NCII and requires websites to remove it within 48 hours. But, as Farid notes, people could weaponize the measure by reporting porn that was made legally and with consent and claiming that it’s NCII. This could result in the content’s removal, which would hurt the performers who made it. Santa Clara’s Goldman points to Project 2025, the Heritage Foundation’s policy blueprint for the second Trump administration, which aims to wipe porn from the web. The Take It Down Act, he argues, “allows for the coordinated effort to scrub adult content from the internet.”
US lawmakers have a history of hurting sex workers in their attempts to regulate explicit content online. State-level age verification laws are an example; visitors can pretty easily get around these measures, but they can still result in reduced revenue for adult performers (because of lower traffic to those sites and the high price of age-checking services they have to purchase).
“They’re always doing something to fuck with the porn industry, but not in a way that actually helps sex workers,” says Jennifer. “If they do something, they’re taking away your income again—as opposed to something like giving you more rights to your image, [which] would be tremendously helpful.”
But as generative AI plays an increasingly large role in NCII deepfakes, the types of images to which adult performers have rights moves deeper into a gray area. Can actors lay claim to AI images likely trained on their bodies? How about AI-generated videos that impersonate them, like the one that tricked Tanya Tate’s fan?
The biggest challenge will be creating “legitimate, effective laws that will absolutely protect content creators from abusing their likeness to train and create AI,” Rocket says. “Absent that, we’re just going to have to keep pulling content down from the internet that’s fake.”
In the meantime, a few porn actors tell me, they’re trying to take advantage of copyright laws that weren’t really made for them; they’ve signed with platforms that host their AI-generated duplicates, with whom fans pay to chat, in part so they’ll have contracts that protect ownership of their AI likenesses. When I spoke with the actor Kiki Daire in September 2025 for a story on adult creators’ “AI twins,” she said she “own[ed] her AI” because she’d signed a contract with Spicey AI, a site that hosted AI duplicates of adult performers. If another company or person created her AI-generated likeness, she added, “I have a leg to stand on, as far as being able to shut that down.”
Even this, though, is not a sure thing; Spicey AI, for instance, shut down several months after I spoke with Daire, so it’s unlikely that her contract would hold. And when I spoke in October with Rachael Cavalli, another adult actor who had signed with an AI duplicate site in hopes it’d help protect her AI image, she admitted, “I don’t have time to sit around and look for companies that have used my image or turned something into a video that I didn’t actually do … it’s a lot of work.” In other words, having rights to your AI image on paper doesn’t make it easier to track down all the potentially infinite breaches of those rights online.
If she’d known what she knows about technology today, Jennifer says she doesn’t think she would have done porn. The risks have increased too much, and too unpredictably. She now does in-person sex work; it’s “not necessarily safer,” she says, “but it’s a different risk profile that I feel more equipped to manage.”
Plus, she figures AI is unlikely to replace in-person sex workers the way it could porn actors: “I don’t think there’s going to be stripper robots.”
Jessica Klein is a Philadelphia-based freelance journalist covering intimate partner violence, cryptocurrency, and other topics.
BOSTON – Timothy Yu, MD, PhD, a leading neurogeneticist at Boston Children’s Hospital and Harvard Medical School, was awarded one of the top honors by the American Society of Gene and Cell Therapy (ASGCT), the Jerry Mendell Award.
Yu was recognized for his trailblazing work over the past decade in devising bespoke oligonucleotide therapies for patients with ultra-rare genetic disorders. He entitled his talk: “The paradox of N-of-1: Scaling the logic of genetic intervention.” A suitable sub-title, Yu said, could be: “A neurogeneticist’s accidental injection into the field of gene therapy.”
Timothy Yu, MD, PhD
Yu’s research has progressed from gene discovery to clinical applications of N-of-1 therapies. The long tail challenge of developing gene therapies for patients with rare diseases is actually immense. There are some 400 million individuals worldwide who suffer one of some 8,000 monogenic disorders. Three out of ten affected children do not see their fifth birthday, while most lack any kind of medical treatment.
But progress over the past 10-20 years has provided hope in the form of various molecular therapies—antisense, mRNA, gene therapy, siRNAs, CRISPR, and newer flavors of gene editing. The concept of “therapeutic programmability is very important,” Yu said.
Yu’s injection into the field began with a single patient, Mila Makovec, a young girl from Colorado, whom he met in 2018. This index patient was eventually diagnosed with a form of Batten disease, CLN7—a rare subtype that was progressive and fatal.
Mila’s gene mutation was private but correctable, an insertion sitting deep within an intron. This offered Yu’s team hope that they could block abnormal splicing. Clearly, no company could progress a therapy for a single patient, Yu recalled.
Allele-specific oligonucleotides are simple to manufacture and can boost gene expression, following the model of Spinraza for spinal muscular atrophy.
Yu’s team developed a customized ASO therapy in about a year, which was published in 2019. The therapy brought about a reduction in Mila’s seizures, but not in time to result in a cure. In May 2019, Yu’s team met with the FDA to establish a path forward. The first guidances were published in 2021.
Moving on
Yu recounted several other therapies designed for other patients with different genetic disorders. The second program, working with Jennifer Puck, MD, and colleagues, was for ataxia telangiectasia (A-T). One A-T mutation created a new splice site that appeared to be reversible with a custom ASO.
The pilot clinical study was initiated in 2018, when the child was two years old. It is, Yu said, the longest running N-of-1 trial. The child is now nine years old and shows no worsening of clinical symptoms. Various measurements and assays confirm there has been no clinical progression. “We have converted a classic case of A-T to a milder form,” Yu said. The trial is expanding in Europe, including ten additional children in Turkey.
A member of Yu’s lab, Claudia Lentucci, PhD, is among the team leading a third program treating infants with neonatal epilepsy (KCNT1-related epileptic encephalopathy). One patient had seizures halted but developed ventricular enlargement. The team has since modified the protocol to use intracerebroventricular injection, which reduces seizures by 60-70%.
A fourth example presented by Yu was a treatment for Grace, a 15-year-old girl with a rare form of retinitis pigmentosa. She presented seven years ago with vision loss and pain insensitivity. Launched in August 2023, the therapy corrects a deep intronic mutation. It has been well tolerated and resulted in a stabilization of her vision.
Yu summarized similar therapies developed for patients with Zellweger syndrome, Niemann Pick Type C, and Batten disease. In total, 35 N-of-1 oligonucleotides have been administered to more than 80 patients.
On hearing the news of Baby KJ last year, “we all stood up and took notice,” Yu said.
“Our motivations are to help patients without other options. We have expanded from a sick child in Colorado to generate pilot learnings for childhood neurologic diseases.” His team’s work is not only offering hope in a compassionate sense but is also leading the exploration of new delivery models for precision medicine.
Yu has built a large network of collaborators, including clinicians, regulators, and industry professionals. The N=1 Collaborative has grown to more than 2,000 members worldwide and will be holding its third conference this October in Denver.
A new approach
From what was once called “interventional genetics,” Yu said, “the data is inviting us to take a new approach” that he called “genetic surgery.”
N-of-1 therapies are “more akin to a complex surgery, [using] customized tools and procedures for therapeutic benefit akin to organ transplant or cardiac surgery,” he said.
Yu also highlighted the FDA’s Plausible Mechanism Pathway, announced last February, which offers opportunities to approve medicines on the basis of very small numbers of patients. But the guidance emphasized the importance of data sharing—an issue that required the community’s full attention.
“You can’t build a modular system in a silo,” Yu said. “If you want cures that are greater than the sum of their parts, you must share the data to see how the pieces fit together.”
President of the American Society of Gene and Cell Therapy (ASGCT), Terry Flotte, MD, is excited to host this year’s conference in his own backyard. It will be a short drive east on the Mass Turnpike from his office at UMass Chan Medical School in Worcester to the Menino Convention and Exhibition Center in Boston’s Seaport district. Flotte is hopeful that the 2026 conference will draw the largest attendance in the meeting’s history. His tenure as president ends this week on the last day of the conference, May 15.
In the run-up to this year’s conference, GEN spoke with Flotte, who is also Editor in Chief of GEN’s sister journal Human Gene Therapy, about the central themes and most anticipated sessions at this year’s conference. “I have a full dance card, let me tell you,” Flotte joked. The conference will highlight several themes of Flotte’s productive tenure.
(This interview has been edited for length and clarity.)
GEN:Terry, what’s the theme of this year’s ASGCT conference?
Terry Flotte: We’re working very hard on access for rare and ultra-rare conditions and have been for some time. You’ll see that in the presidential symposium. This is in the context of our mission to improve access to rare disease cell and gene therapy (CGT). This is the guiding principle of our strategic plan: we want to work for universal access to CGT. There are two orthogonal axes to this: I’m focusing on rare and ultra-rare diseases. ASGCT is going to continue to work in parallel on universal access in a more global context.
We have created a first-of-its-kind exchange for shelved CGTs. An increasing number of CGTs for rare and ultra-rare diseases are being discontinued or deprioritized after they reach the clinical stage—not because they lack clinical efficacy but because they lack market viability. We have partnered with Orphan Therapeutics Accelerator to create a new entity called CGTxchange. This collaborative venture is meeting the need of these promising clinical-stage CGTs that are not progressing. This entity will be an AI-enabled digital platform that will list the available clinical-stage CGT programs and generate AI-enhanced profiles, digest the data, score them for their level of advancement and the robustness of their responses, and essentially shorten the due diligence that investors normally have to do, enabling the connections to work faster.
I estimate there’s at least 50-100 of these programs. We had our own personal experience with Sio Gene Therapies [formerly Axovant] on both GM1 and GM2 gangliosidosis. This is part of a broader set of initiatives. Over the past few years, we created a taskforce in response to this increasing rate of discontinuation of these therapies. The two main outgrowths that the ASGCT board has endorsed are to create a consortium of CGT developers that might be able to offer non-profits less expensive manufacturing in a limited way but also work toward a drug master file sharing data for those who benefit from the less expensive vectors—in addition to the clearinghouse I just mentioned.
GEN: What else is new this year?
Flotte: A new thing for ASGCT is we’re having a patient advocate presenting. Terry Pirovolakis pioneered the CGT therapy for spastic paraplegia type 50 (SPG50) by developing his own company, Elpida Therapeutics, which has taken SPG50 to the clinic and now is doing that for other rare and ultra-rare diseases.
The second example is from Claire Booth, MBBS, PhD, (Great Ormond Street Children’s Hospital, London). Her team has received market authorization to be the
pseudo-commercial manufacturer of a fully licensed therapeutic for different forms of SCID.
Those are two direct examples of alternatives to get things to the clinic, other than getting a new commercial sponsor. [Hopefully] we can end up getting more of those picked up, whether through the CGTxchange or direct outreach. We’re also going to honor Timothy Yu, MD, PhD, with the Jerry Mendell Translational Research Award. He will be talking about the N=1 Collaborative with the parallel effort with oligonucleotide therapeutics. There is a purposeful theme to this meeting, aiming to make a big change in how things can get to the clinic and stay in the clinic.
GEN: Last year in New Orleans, the conference was dominated by the Baby KJ story. Will anything stand out in the same way this year?
Flotte: We are honoring the three primary authors of the Baby KJ story—Kiran Musunuru, MD, PhD, Rebecca Ahrens-Niklas, MD, PhD, and Fyodor Urnov, PhD.
I have also selected the work of Lindsey George, MD (Children’s Hospital of Philadelphia) as a presidential abstract. She is going to present the first case of an AAV-induced tumor—or at least an aggressive and autonomously growing malignancy…. This occurred in an MPS1 patient who received a high dose of AAV into the ventricles. It is not exactly a meningioma, but it’s arising from the neuroepithelial cells lining the ventricles. The tumor has AAV integrated with a strong promoter immediately upstream of a known oncogene. I put that into the presidential lecture, even though it’s not good news—but I’m not a [gene therapy] campaign manager here! I think this is a significant finding that we’ll have to pay attention to.
Lindsey is not saying that nobody should ever do this again. She’s going to point out aspects of this that were very manageable and how this patient overall has a dramatically better outcome than they would have without the therapy. In a way, [this is] somewhat like when those leukemia cases developed in Europe in the early SCID [gene therapy] trials. It is in a way parallel to that.
GEN: This will be your last conference as president of ASGCT!
Flotte: Yes, it ends on May 15th! We only get to be president for one year. I started the Rare Disease Task Force as vice president. This was my cause over the past three years [as an officer]. I’m very pleased we were able to stand this up.
We have an actual corporation, a joint venture, 50% owned by ASGCT. We set up this manufacturing consortium. Somewhat related, we set up our own charitable foundation, the ASGCT Foundation. We will have our first event—a gala at the conference. It will have a lot of time to grow. The foundation has just been incorporated as a subsidiary not-for-profit.
GEN: How do you view things at FDA currently?
Flotte: We will have a fireside chat with the new director of CBER, Katherine Szarama, PhD. We are very encouraged—she’s a very highly trained professional. We love that FDA is paying a lot of attention to rare diseases, but we need some scientific and evidence-based guidelines on how to do this consistently. We’re looking to someone who has regulatory experience.
GEN: What else has got you and your colleagues in the gene therapy space excited of late?
Flotte: I’m hoping we’re going to better understand high-dose AAV toxicity… I think what we’ve got is several different syndromes, but many of them may have a common link… We’ve been seeing with high-dose AAV a very broad distribution, but the doses are incredibly high and there have been deaths—the DMD patient deaths that occurred in the first two weeks are the best-known examples, but there have been other ones.
In my lab, we’re trying to figure out the primary pathogenesis. We have found a number of situations with unexpected vector expression in the endothelial cells and then seeing vascular leakage into some of these tissues causing tissue injury. So, in the post-mortem analysis we helped on, we saw high expression in the lungs and alveolar capillaries. They had diffuse leakage into the capillaries leading to a syndrome known as acute respiratory distress syndrome (ARDS). But in some of the others where they’re seeing some complement activation, we think that small vessel injury could be a convergent pathway. Now, where does this come into play in the broader sense?
One of the holy grails of recent AAV gene therapy is to design an AAV capsule that efficiently crosses the blood-brain barrier. Many diseases that are appropriate for AAV are diseases of the central nervous system (CNS). You can think of, for instance, the easiest cells to access in the CNS are the spinal motor neurons, hence the SMA1 treatment, Zolgensma. So, if you treat an SMA newborn, that is essentially solved or at least adequately solved. But in none of the diseases that affect the brain have we seen an IV gene therapy that is robustly efficacious—just giving an AAV at a high enough dose to get across the blood-brain barrier. Many different companies are trying to develop AAV capsids that will penetrate the blood-brain barrier, the first one that got to clinic was a vector designed by Capsida Biotherapeutics. But the first patient treated on the Capsida trial developed cerebral edema and died.
One of the important challenges for the field is to understand if we can separate a blood-brain barrier penetration from endothelial cell toxicity, because you could think perhaps a vector designed to get through the blood-brain barrier could cause injury as it crosses to the endothelial cells in the brain. I think there may be ways around this, but to me this is a central issue because the CNS is affected in so many single-gene disorders. The parents see a child who has a disability or degenerating, as in Tay-Sachs, and they want to be able to do an IV therapy. They don’t want to have to have a direct brain injection or some other invasive intervention. So that’s what I’m looking for at ASGCT 2026.
Researchers at Jiangnan University have engineered microbial “cell factories” to sustainably produce the UV-protective compound gadusol, a compound that could eventually serve as a sunscreen ingredient and an antioxidant additive.
Found in the eggs of various fish and other marine organisms, gadusol helps protect against ultraviolet damage. However, “it is scarce in nature, and extracting it is inefficient and can carry environmental costs,” said research lead Ping Zhang, PhD. “We want to find a scalable and greener way to produce gadusol.” Previous efforts to acquire gadusol have relied mainly on extraction from fish eggs or tissues at specific developmental timepoints. For their reported study, rather than harvest the molecule from nature, the team turned microbes into mini chemical factories, increasing yield more than 90 times.
How do fish survive sunlight in the open waters without getting burned? They make their own natural sunscreen. Gadusol is “a naturally occurring cyclohexenone compound that has attracted significant attention due to its potent UV-absorbing properties and broad biological functionalities,” the authors wrote. “Gadusol, as a cyclohexenone compound with potent antioxidant and biological properties, has shown significant potential for applications in pharmaceuticals, cosmetics, and nutraceuticals.”
The compound has been identified in the eggs of various fish species, including zebrafish, salmon, and sturgeon, as well as in coral reef ecosystems, where it shields marine embryos and coral from UV radiation. Moreover, the researchers explained, “Beyond its photoprotective role, gadusol also demonstrates pronounced antioxidant activity, with extracts from fish eggs exhibiting free radical scavenging capacity comparable to that of ascorbic acid under physiological pH and even superior chain-breaking activity against peroxyl radicals.”
However, the team pointed out, extracting gadusol from fish eggs is labor intensive and costly, and results in low yields. For their newly reported study the team rebuilt a zebrafish’s pathway for making gadusol inside the bacterium Escherichia coli, then tweaked the microbes’ genetics and growing conditions. “In this study, we constructed the gadusol biosynthetic pathway in E. coli and established an integrated engineering strategy to enable its efficient production,” they noted.
These modifications increased gadusol yield by nearly 93 times, from 45.2 milligrams per liter to 4.2 grams per liter. The compound’s antioxidant property inspired a useful shortcut, in the form of a color-based screening test. In the test, a purple chemical signal turns yellow when gadusol neutralizes free radicals. This color shift allows researchers to quickly identify bacterial strains that produce more of the compound. “Compared with traditional chemical analysis, this approach is more convenient, efficient, and economical,” said senior author Ruirui Xu,” PhD. “In addition, an efficient downstream process for gadusol extraction and purification was established, strengthening the translational potential of this platform,” the authors noted.
Producing gadusol through a microbial cell factory for sun protection. [Science Center for Future Foods, Jiangnan University]
The lab-made compound showed promise in preliminary UV-protection tests. “Achieving this level of production in the lab is very promising,” says Zhang. “It suggests that we may be able to meet future demand for natural sunscreen ingredients through microbial production.” The compound may offer more than just sun protection. In experiments, gadusol showed antioxidant activity comparable to that of vitamin C, suggesting it may help neutralize cell-damaging free radicals from UV exposure.
In their paper the authors suggested that “Beyond laboratory-scale optimization, this work demonstrates a practical and scalable route for manufacturing gadusol, a natural, nontoxic UV-protective, and antioxidant cyclohexenone.” The research comes amid growing interest in alternatives to some conventional sunscreen ingredients, which can irritate sensitive skin, harm marine organisms, or rely on petrochemicals. Gadusol’s combination of UV protection and antioxidant activity could make it an attractive ingredient for sunscreens and skin-care products. The team in addition pointed out, “By enabling sustainable microbial production independent of marine extraction, this strategy provides a renewable alternative to synthetic UV filters and antioxidants that may raise environmental or health concerns.”
But gadusol won’t make it into our beach bags just yet. The study did not compare gadusol head-to-head with commercial sunscreens, nor assess long-term safety or large-scale manufacturing. Regulatory approval would also be needed. Still, Xu believes that the research provides a starting point for moving gadusol toward practical applications. Based on current technology, he expects to start seeing some products appear on the market within two years.
“For small molecules with application potential, we hope people look beyond traditional extraction methods,” Zhang commented. “Microbial cell factories are emerging as a greener and more sustainable way to bring laboratory discoveries into real-world use.”
Researchers at The University of Texas MD Anderson Cancer Center have identified immune cell and tumor-specific features in triple-negative breast cancer (TNBC) that may help predict which patients are most likely to respond to chemotherapy before treatment begins, according to a study published in Nature. Using single-cell and spatial transcriptomic analyses of pretreatment tumor samples, the team identified specific macrophage subtypes and cancer-cell gene expression programs associated with response to neoadjuvant chemotherapy (NAC). The team also developed a 13-gene panel and a machine learning model that could help classify tumors according to their likelihood of responding to chemotherapy.
“This study provides novel insights into the gene-expression programs and the different cell states of the tumor microenvironment in patients with triple-negative breast cancer,” said Nicholas Navin, PhD, chair of systems biology at MD Anderson. “Importantly, we’ve identified certain programs and macrophage subtypes that are associated with good responses to neoadjuvant chemotherapy, which has tremendous potential to improve patient outcomes.”
TNBC accounts for between 10% and 20% of breast cancer cases. Because it lacks estrogen, progesterone, and HER2 receptors, treatment options are limited, resulting in a higher rate of recurrence compared with other form of breast cancer. Chemotherapy is the main treatment approach, particularly in early-stage disease, where neoadjuvant chemotherapy can achieve pathological complete response in 40% to 50% of patients. However, treatment outcomes vary widely from patient to patient, and researchers have been looking for ways that can better predict response before therapy begins.
For this study, the researchers analyzed pretreatment core biopsy samples from treatment-naive patients with early-stage TNBC. They performed single-cell RNA sequencing on 427,857 cells collected from 101 patients and spatial transcriptomic profiling on tumors from 44 patients. The findings also were compared with normal breast tissue data from the Human Breast Cell Atlas.
Based on their testing the researchers classified TNBC tumors into four patient-level “archetypes” based on cancer-cell gene expression patterns. They also identified 13 metaprograms that reflected heterogeneity within tumors at the single-cell level.
The tumor microenvironment consisted of 49 immune and stromal cell states organized into eight cellular communities, or ecotypes, defined by the co-occurrence of cancer cells and surrounding immune cell populations. Researchers found these cellular neighborhoods were associated both with tumor archetypes and chemotherapy response.
The study homed in on macrophages, a type of immune cell that has received less attention in TNBC research than T cells. The investigators said that seven of eight macrophage cell states were significantly associated with treatment response, while none of the 14 T-cell and natural killer-cell states showed significant associations with NAC response.
Macrophage subtypes linked to interferon signaling and complement activity, identified as Mac-IFN and Mac-lip-C1Q, were more abundant in patients who achieved pathological complete response. By comparison, two macrophages associated with angiogenesis and extracellular matrix remodeling, called Mac-angio and Mac-ECM, were enriched in patients with residual disease after chemotherapy.
The team also found that tumors linked to good response to NAC showed increased interferon signaling and elevated expression of human leukocyte antigen class II genes. Researchers said these findings indicate that cancer cells themselves may actively participate in modulating immune signaling related to chemotherapy response.
As part of their work, the researchers developed a 13-gene transcriptional signature panel developed from the single-cell analyses that can be used as a predictive model for chemotherapy response. Researchers said the model’s predictions correlated with chemotherapy response and overall survival across multiple public TNBC cohorts.
These new findings have the potential to influence how patients with TNBC are treated in the future by helping clinicians identify which patients are more likely to benefit from standard chemotherapy and which patients may need alternative therapeutic strategies earlier.
In addition, “these findings suggest that targeting specific macrophage subtypes could potentially provide new therapeutic opportunities in TNBC,” the researchers wrote.
The MD Anderson team noted that the study is one of the first large-scale single-cell genomic studies of TNBC integrating cancer cells, immune cells and treatment-response data. Earlier research exploring tumor heterogeneity has often lacked therapy response information, focused only on cancer cells or immune cells separately, or included relatively small patient cohorts.
Whether single-cell RNA seq could eventually become a basis for predictive diagnostics remains an open question. Today, the method is still expensive and technically challenging, two hindrances to it wider adoption. The researchers noted, however, that advances in sample multiplexing and other methods compatible with formalin-fixed paraffin-embedded tissue could make it feasible in the future.
Clinton Yam, MD, an associate professor of breast medical oncology at MD Anderson, said the findings could support more individualized approaches to TNBC care.
“These insights provide an important foundation for improving our understanding of why different TNBC tumors respond differently to chemotherapy, and the findings have strong potential to inform future strategies aimed at better predicting treatment response and guiding more individualized care for patients with triple-negative breast cancer.”
Future research will focus on validating the predictive models in prospective patient cohorts and evaluating TNBC treated with chemo-immunotherapy, which has become the standard of care when TNBC is detected early. The researchers also plan to study longitudinal tumor samples collected before, during, and after treatment to better understand how cancer cells and the tumor microenvironment evolve over time and how those changes relate to chemotherapy response and survival.