BOSTON – Geneticist Beverly Davidson, PhD, received the 2026 Outstanding Achievement Award from the American Society of Gene and Cell Therapy (ASGCT). Davidson is currently the chief scientific strategy officer at the Children’s Hospital of Philadelphia (CHOP) and a former president of ASGCT.
Some of the research Davidson presented was conducted at a new biotech company she co-founded called Latus Bio, which earlier this month announced it had raised $97 million in a Series A round. The company develops novel AAVs to specifically target central nervous system (CNS) disorders, with a lead program in Huntington’s disease (HD).
After thanking her mentors—Bill Kelly, MD, Michael Welsh, MD, and Kathy High, MD—Davidson turned her attention to presenting new advances in engineered gene therapies. Throughout her career, she has focused on improving adeno-associated viruses (AAVs) for CNS gene therapies, with a particular emphasis now on HD. Key elements include selecting the right cargo and developing the appropriate delivery vehicle. Her goal is to scale lab research in neurons, mouse models, and non-human primates (NHPs) to treat patients, including adults with HD.
Major hurdles to tackling genetic diseases of the brain include scalability and a lack of potency, Davidson said. The search for alternative AAV serotypes to AAV2 that could target neuronal cells began back in 2000. IV administration does not provide sufficient targeting to the brain. Even AAVs that have been engineered to enter the brain from the blood have high peripheral exposure and a high cost of goods per patient, which significantly lowers scalability and impact. (In one study, liver biodistribution of AAV was many orders of magnitude higher than in the CNS.)
Davidson focused on HD, the late-onset, dominantly inherited genetic disease. The identification of the gene harboring the HD mutation in the early 1990s by a consortium of researchers was one of the biggest success stories in human genetics. Even more remarkable was the underlying disease mechanism—the expansion in exon 1 of the gene of a triplet repeat sequence (CAG) producing an abnormally long string of glutamine residues in the huntingtin protein.
The right target
One of the major challenges in devising a gene therapy for HD is ensuring that the therapeutic reaches the right network—the deep brain and cortical areas. Therapies have to reach the right circuit, and the right cells in those circuits, Davidson said. Over the years, her group has tailored AAVs for delivery to the brain, inserting peptides into exposed loops of the virion to allow for targeting and unbiased diversity for blood-to-brain delivery. Nowadays, she said, machine learning approaches can be applied for further capsid improvements.
Davidson’s CHOP lab developed a method for screening AAVs with enhanced potency for CNS therapies. After generating huge libraries containing tens of millions of novel capsids, the group performed serial enrichments to identify the most attractive capsids. After screening pools of injected capsids into two species of monkeys, a winning capsid emerged: AAV-DB-3.
Davidson’s group infused AAV-DB-3 into NHPs, looking for targeting to the putamen (base of the forebrain) and caudate regions. Those results were published in Nature Communications in 2025. “AAV-DB-3 really stood out for its ability to transduce deep layer cortical neurons that are important” in HD, Davidson said. Moreover, the results were achieved with relatively low doses and only required a single infusion per hemisphere, outperforming the widely used AAV5.
Somatic instability
With a promising delivery vehicle identified, Davidson next addressed the therapeutic strategy, which takes aim at the somatic expansion of the CAG repeat. This codon grows longer over time in certain cells in the brain, sometimes expanding to hundreds of repeats.
MSH3 is a DNA repair protein that is required for CAG repeat expansions, as seen in mouse models of HD and other triplet repeat disorders, including myotonic dystrophy. Research led by Paul Ranum, PhD, who is a co-founder of Latus Bio, posted in a preprint on bioRxiv earlier this year, modeled the impact of lowering levels of MSH3 on somatic instability.
Ranum and colleagues used an artificial microRNA showed to lower MSH3 levels in NHPs by 48-94 percent. Computational modeling suggests that this would reduce somatic instability and delay onset of HD symptoms by many years. Early studies using a well-known HD mouse model, the Q111 mouse, to assess biodistribution, quantify knockdowns, and assess the impact on somatic CAG repeat expansion. AAV-DB-3 expression is highest in the striatum and cortex at 16 weeks, dropping MSH3 levels by 50%.
Davidson closed by emphasizing the need to ensure scalability for treatment beyond ultra-rare disorders. Latus hopes to file an Investigational New Drug application for its HD therapy, LTS-201, in the second half of 2026. At least two other biotech companies are also targeting MSH3 by other means.
BackgroundThe increasing demand for adult attention-deficit hyperactivity disorder (ADHD) assessments has required the development of efficient triage pathways. This study provides a formal assessment of a criterion-based screening model designed to prioritise patient safety and operational efficiency within a National Health Service (NHS) specialist secondary care setting.MethodsA prospective observational validation design was employed, involving 49 consecutive adults referred for ADHD assessment none of whom had a previous ADHD diagnosis. The Comprehensive ADHD Screening Questionnaire (CASQ), a clinician-administered instrument based on DSM-5 criteria, was utilised by four trained Physician Assistants. To ensure an assessment of triage safety, a universal assessment model was adopted: all participants received a blinded, gold-standard diagnostic assessment (NICE-compliant) regardless of the initial triage recommendation thereby eliminating verification bias. The primary outcome measure was the Number Needed to Harm (NNH), defined as the number of people screened before a single false-negative result occurs.ResultsOf the 48 participants who completed the diagnostic process, six (12.5%) received an ADHD diagnosis. The triage pathway correctly identified all six cases, resulting in a sensitivity of 100.0% (95% CI: 61.0%–100.0%) and an infinite NNH. Specificity was 45.2% (95% CI: 31.2%–59.9%), with a positive predictive value of 20.7%. The pathway permitted 39.6% (n = 19) of referrals to be triaged to alternative pathways rather than full ADHD assessment, potentially saving significant specialist clinician time. Exploratory analyses indicated that score magnitude did not reliably distinguish between true and false positives within the group triaged as appropriate for further assessment.ConclusionsThese preliminary findings suggest that criterion-based screening conducted by appropriately trained non-specialist clinicians can achieve high levels of safety whilst improving service efficiency. The findings support the feasibility of task-shifting models in adult ADHD services, provided that triage thresholds are calibrated to prioritise sensitivity. These results require replication in adequately powered multi-site studies before firm conclusions regarding pathway safety can be drawn. Further research is required to establish inter-rater reliability and cost-effectiveness across diverse clinical settings.
BOSTON — In a potentially significant advance for the genome editing field, researchers from the biotechnology company Caszyme and the Vilnius University Institute of Biotechnology in Lithuania have developed a potent and compact variant of Cas12l nuclease. Giedrius Gasiūnas, PhD, Caszyme co-founder and CEO, presented highlights of the research at ASGCT.
The work represents “a great example of the potential of continued mining for novel Cas effectors within the bacterial metagenomic diversity dark matter,” said Rodolphe Barrangou, PhD, Editor in Chief of The CRISPR Journal, which will shortly be publishing a paper on the Lithuanian team’s results.
“We need more diverse effectors to address the technical shortcomings of the CRISPR toolbox,” Barrangou continued. “This study is a great illustration of the potential of mining bacterial diversity.”
Giedrius Gasiūnas, PhD, Caszyme CEO, presents Cas12l at ASGCT 2026.
The Lithuanian team, including veteran gene editor Virginijus Siksnys, PhD—winner of the 2018 Kavli Prize with Jennifer Doudna, PhD, and Emmanuelle Charpentier, PhD, for CRISPR gene editing—used a hybrid approach to optimize Cas12l. By combining cryo-electron microscopy (cryo-EM) structure-guided design with artificial intelligence (AI) protein language models, the team was able to engineer a variant (Asp2Cas12l M82) that overcomes the known efficiency limitations of the Cas12l family.
Although Cas9 has widespread utility, including clinical applications, researchers have long considered its relatively large size and requirement for G-rich protospacer adjacent motifs (PAMs) problematic. The Cas12l family, discovered in the Armatimonadota bacterial phylum, offers a more compact size (867 amino acids) and recognition of a C-rich PAM site.
But wild-type Cas12l enzymes exhibit lower editing efficiencies and higher target-to-target variation compared to Cas9. According to Gasiūnas, the new M82 variant is “reliable, precise and adaptable,” and shows promise for a wide range of therapeutic applications.
“Through our continued work exploring novel Cas systems, Caszyme is focused on advancing technologies that move beyond promise into practical use.”
Path to potency
The engineering of the M82 variant proceeded in two steps. First, the Caszyme researchers solved the 3D structure of Asp2Cas12l complexed with an sgRNA and DNA to high resolution (2.51 Å). This revealed a unique “bracelet” architecture whereby the nuclease encircles the DNA target via interlocking helical bundles and a proline-rich string.
Next, the team introduced arginine substitutions at dozens of positions in the molecule to enhance electrostatic attraction to the negatively charged DNA backbone. This work included the production of an M67 variant, which provided a 7-fold improvement in indel editing over the wild-type nuclease.
To engineer further refinements, the Caszyme group turned to AI, specifically the ESM-2 protein large language model. This model predicted evolutionary hotspots considered likely to preserve or enhance function. Integrating these AI-derived substitutions—Q572R in the bridge helix and F607S in the RuvC domain—resulted in the final M82 Cas12l variant, illustrating the value of AI-supported engineering rather than deploying protein-directed evolution.
Rivaling Cas9
Gasiūnas presented data showing that M82 possesses good activity across recalcitrant gene targets, reducing the target-to-target variation that plagues many novel nucleases. In head-to-head comparisons in HEK293T cells, M82 demonstrated an average indel editing rate of 67.4%, nearly identical to that of Cas9 at overlapping target sites. This potency was consistently maintained across several delivery formats, including plasmid DNA, mRNA, and ribonucleoprotein complexes.
The Caszyme group also showed excellent M82 efficiency in homology-directed repair (HDR). In experiments targeting the AAVS1 locus, M82 facilitated a site-specific gene insertion frequency of 39%, outperforming Cas9 in the same context. Using single-stranded donor templates, HDR rates reached as high as 56%. Gasiūnas suggested that the staggered cut produced by Cas12l may inherently steer DNA repair toward precise correction rather than stochastic indels. With regard to safety, Caszyme found that M82 Cas12l maintained a high degree of on-target precision. Secondary editing signals were largely detected at or near the lower limits of assay sensitivity, suggesting a low risk of off-target cleavage.
The compact size of the M82 variant makes it an attractive candidate for adeno-associated virus-mediated delivery, which has strict limits on cargo size. “It is no secret that the CRISPR space has faced challenges and concerns in recent years,” Gasiūnas said. “However, we are confident in M82’s ability to create headroom for scientists to stand up and innovate within.”
Crowded field
Cas12l is not the only compact Cas nuclease gaining attention, of course. In a talk preceding Gasiūnas’ presentation, Zhaoshi Wu, PhD, co-founder and chief technology officer of Shanghai-based Castalysis Bioscience, presented an update on Cas12n, details of which were first published in Molecular Cell in 2023. The nuclease was touted as being the first independent CRISPR-Cas complete gene family uncovered by Chinese scientists within China’s territory.
Touted as a next-gen ultra-compact gene editing system, Cas12n (branded as alphaCas) consists of just 450 amino acids, and possesses structural similarity to TnpB. Cryo-EM structural analysis led the Chinese investigators to optimize the molecule for non-viral in vivo delivery. Preclinical experiments showed robust genome editing in a mouse model by targeting PCSK9 using lipid nanoparticle delivery, resulting in sharp drop in serum LDL levels.
Wu said his company is on target to begin its first clinical before the end of 2026. But he faced an uncomfortable moment during audience questions. Fyodor Urnov, PhD, challenged Wu’s claim that an inherent advantage of Cas12n was its safety profile compared to Cas9. Urnov pointed out that Intellia Therapeutics has two ongoing Phase III in vivo trials using CRISPR-Cas9 that show no immunogenicity concerns using LNP delivery.
Urnov later congratulated Wu on the rest of the company’s data and wished them success.
The Stavros Niarchos Foundation (SNF) Global Center for Child and Adolescent Mental Health at the Child Mind Institute launches its next two-year fellowship for professionals pursuing evidence-based approaches across diverse, underserved global communities
New York, NY—Applications are now open for the 2026 Communicator Fellowship at the Stavros Niarchos Foundation (SNF) Global Center for Child and Adolescent Mental Health at the Child Mind Institute. The fellowship is designed to support a new generation of communicators working to shape child and adolescent mental health care in low- and middle-income countries, in addition to the SNF Global Center’s core country offices in Brazil, Greece, and South Africa. Up to three professionals working in public communications, including journalists, broadcasters, and podcasters, will be selected for the two-year program.
The Communicator Fellowship is part of the SNF Global Center’s broader mission to reduce gaps in data and care, catalyze system-level advancements, and transform child and adolescent mental health care by turning evidence into action, scaling culturally appropriate solutions, and building a global network of experts so young people everywhere can access support when they need it.
The application deadline is June 15, 2026. Fellows will be selected and announced by early August 2026. In addition to financial support of up to $100,000 USD, fellows will receive training, mentorship, and networking opportunities.
At a time when one in five young people are experiencing mental health or learning challenges, with most cases beginning by age 14, effective and accurate communication is urgently needed.
At the Child Mind Institute, we believe that translating research into accessible knowledge that empowers young people, families, and communities is integral to advancing mental health care. The Communicator Fellowship builds on this commitment by supporting professionals who can bring evidence-based mental health information to the public in clear, engaging, and culturally relevant ways.
Vinicius Gaby Vieira Rego, MD, of Brazil, a current Communicator Fellow with the support of the Institute of Psychiatry at the University of São Paulo, exemplifies this mission. Working with youth, Dr. Rego is co-creating a multi-platform literacy hub designed to combat harmful misinformation by empowering Brazil’s young leaders.
“I am deeply grateful for the opportunity to join the SNF Global Center’s network of fellows to support adolescent mental health in Brazil through communication,” said Dr. Rego. “This fellowship will enable a multi-channel communication project aimed at strengthening mental health literacy and peer-support capacity — with young people and for young people — across the country.”
As a fellow, Dr. Rego’s work directly addresses complex mental health challenges faced by young people in Brazil, while contributing to broader global efforts to improve communication about mental health care.
“In the current digital environment, where adolescents are exposed to a high volume of mental health content, the need for evidence-based information that resonates with young people has never been greater,” said Guilherme Polanczyk, MD, PhD, associate professor of Child and Adolescent Psychiatry at the University of São Paulo. “We are proud to endorse a project committed to supporting how young people and their communities understand and reflect on their mental health.”
Other current fellows are leading high-impact projects dispelling misinformation, reducing stigma, and increasing youth engagement — all while bringing critical attention to links among mental health, climate change, and human rights. Through partnerships, these efforts are transforming the future of youth mental health across the globe.
“Vinicius’s project is ambitious, and with the support of the Institute of Psychiatry at the University of São Paulo, we know it will provide young people in Brazil with much-needed resources to support their mental health,” said Peter Raucci, Director of Global Fellowship Strategy of the SNF Global Center at the Child Mind Institute. “What we’re seeing through the Communicator Fellowship is how quickly ideas can move from concept to culturally relevant, real-world impact.”
SNF Global Center Communicator Fellowship Timeline
About the SNF Global Center at the Child Mind Institute The Stavros Niarchos Foundation (SNF) Global Center for Child and Adolescent Mental Health at the Child Mind Institute brings together the Child Mind Institute’s expertise as a leading independent nonprofit in children’s mental health and the Stavros Niarchos Foundation’s deep commitment to supporting collaborative projects to improve access to quality health care worldwide. The center is building partnerships to drive advances in under-researched areas of children and adolescents’ mental health, and expand access to culturally appropriate training, resources, and treatment in low- and middle-income countries. This work is conducted by the Child Mind Institute with support from SNF through its Global Health Initiative (GHI).
About the Child Mind Institute The Child Mind Institute is dedicated to transforming the lives of children and families struggling with mental health and learning disorders by giving them the help they need. We’ve become the leading independent nonprofit in children’s mental health by providing gold-standard, evidence-based care, delivering educational resources to millions of families each year, training educators in underserved communities, and developing tomorrow’s breakthrough treatments.
BOSTON — A team at Children’s Hospital of Philadelphia (CHOP) led by Rebecca Ahrens-Niklas, MD, PhD, and Lindsey George, MD, has described a case of a brain tumor linked to a rare integration of adeno-associated virus (AAV).
George presented the work at the American Society of Gene and Cell Therapy (ASGCT) conference in a plenary talk selected as the “presidential abstract” by ASGCT president, Terry Flotte, MD. The study, “Neuroepithelial tumor with AAV integration after intracisternal magna vector delivery,” was published in the New England Journal of Medicine.
Lindsey George, MD
Over the past 25 years, some 6,000 patients have been treated with some form of AAV gene therapy. In all that time, George said, there have been no established long-term safety concerns, although genome integration events have been reported in mouse and dog studies. But the case documented by George and colleagues at CHOP suggests that the gene therapy field may need to pay more attention to this potential occurrence.
The story began with a 5-year-old boy with an inherited lysosomal disorder, severe MPS1 deficiency (Hurler subtype). The patient received enzyme replacement therapy at six weeks of age, followed by a cord blood stem cell transplant at age four months.
Investigators chose to perform gene therapy when the patient was 13 months old to deliver the iduronidase (IDUA) gene. The vector chosen was an AAV9 serotype, using a cytomegalovirus enhancer and a chicken beta-actin promoter driving the gene. The virus was administered into the boy’s cisterna magna in the base of the skull.
When the boy was five years old, a routine neurological scan revealed a large intraventricular mass that had not been observed two years earlier. Analysis of the tumor revealed it was a PLAG1-driven neuroepithelial tumor—indeed, PLAG1 expression was almost 300 times higher than in other central nervous system tumors studied at CHOP. (PLAG1 is usually only expressed during embryogenesis.)
Surgery to remove the tumor was successful. Eight months after surgery, there are no signs of tumor growth. The boy is also showing advanced neurocognitive function.
Tumor typing
George described RNA sequencing of the tumor, which revealed the fusion of a fragment of the AAV9 vector cassette to exon 5 of the PLAG1 gene on chromosome 8. The resulting transcript is predicted to encode a PLAG1 derivative containing five zinc-finger DNA-binding domains and a C-terminal transcriptional activation domain, which was previously reported to function as a transcriptional activator.
Credit: Dr_Microbe / iStock / Getty Images Plus
Curiously, the chimeric junction also included a segment of human chromosome 10, which George suspects originated during the vector manufacturing process. The integration event was present in about 40% of the total reads, suggesting integration into one of the two PLAG1 alleles.
George concluded her talk by noting that while the clinical outcome in this patient is so far encouraging, this is evidence that AAV integration can be associated with oncogenesis. The study underscores the need to monitor the most heavily transduced tissues after AAV gene therapy.
While the gene therapy community should be cautious in extrapolating this single case report across all AAV gene therapy programs, George said the study supports the use of the lowest feasible vector dose as well as tissue-specific promoters.
George noted that detection of the integrated AAV vector DNA was challenging, in part because of rearrangements of vector DNA. The use of several complementary techniques—long-read DNA sequencing, targeted PCR amplification, and RNA sequencing—was required to confirm the integration.
George and coworkers closed their paper, noting that, “Our findings support the hypothesis that rare AAV integration can contribute to human oncogenesis, which emphasizes the need to optimize gene delivery methods and monitor transduced tissues after treatment.”
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.
