Key takeaways:

• • • Deploying AI and governing it are two different things 鈥� Most tax, audit & accounting firms are further along on deployment of AI than they are with setting up how it will be governed.

    • AI literacy and understanding will be key attributes 鈥� The skill that will define the next generation of auditors isn’t knowing how to use AI; rather, it’s knowing when to distrust it.

    • Risk assessment needs to be re-thought 鈥� The risk assessment gap is a structural problem, not a technology maturity problem. And no better model is going to fix it.

There is a version of AI adoption that looks like progress, but isn’t. It involves a pilot program that runs well, gains a positive internal review and a mention in the firm’s next thought leadership piece 鈥� and then nothing changes throughout the firm. The workflow that got automated stays automated, and everything else stays the same.

This pattern is more common than many tax, audit & accounting firms want to admit. The organizational work that scaling AI actually requires 鈥� such as deciding who owns the outputs, redesigning quality review, working out what happens when a model gets something wrong 鈥� doesn’t surface in a pilot. Instead, it surfaces in production. And those firms that have been running the same pilot for more than a year aren’t being cautious, they鈥檙e simply avoiding those decisions.

A recent survey by tech market research group International Data Corp. (IDC) of 1,005 audit and accounting professionals globally captures the gap precisely. The study showed that two-thirds of firms have AI embedded in strategy or underway in pilots, but only 7% . That distance between deployment and readiness is where most of the real work is hiding.

The audit profession is underinvesting in a key skill

Ask most audit firm leaders what skills their people need for an AI-driven practice, and the answers come back quickly: data analysis, AI literacy, and technology proficiency. Those aren’t wrong answers, but they’re incomplete in a way that matters.

The skill that will actually define audit quality in an AI-enabled environment isn’t the ability to use the tools; rather, it鈥檚 the ability to pressure-test what those tools produce. To read an AI-generated summary and identify what it might have missed, or to recognize when a flagged pattern in a data set is just noise rather than a red flag, or even to override a confident-sounding output when professional judgment says something doesn’t add up.

That’s closer to editing than accounting 鈥� and it’s a fundamentally different capability than simply being familiar with AI systems. Yet most re-skilling programs are building that familiarity, while it鈥檚 the understanding and judgment that separates auditors who use AI well from auditors who use it credulously.

Indeed, excessive trust in AI outputs is the specific failure mode the profession needs to train against 鈥� and that鈥檚 not getting enough attention.

The risk assessment problem is permanent

There’s a version of the AI-in-audit story in which every limitation is temporary 鈥� the AI models will improve, the training data will get better, the accuracy will increase. For most audit applications, that’s probably true, but for risk assessment, it isn’t.

Risk assessment requires professional skepticism: the trained disposition to question, probe, and not accept appearances at face value. AI models are trained to find patterns and produce coherent, confident output. Those two orientations are in direct tension. A model that identifies a pattern and presents it with confidence is doing exactly what it was designed to do. However, the problem is that professional skepticism sometimes requires distrusting precisely that kind of coherent, confident output 鈥� and then asking what the pattern is missing, who might be motivated to produce it, and whether the data behind it can be trusted.

That gap isn’t a technology maturity problem. It’s a structural problem. Nearly 80% of audit leaders in the IDC survey say they recognize the risk of algorithmic bias in functions like risk assessment and fraud detection 鈥� and that recognition points at something real. The right response isn’t to avoid AI in risk assessment entirely, of course, but it is to be clear-eyed about where AI’s role ends and where the auditor’s begins. Summarizing, flagging, and organizing are appropriate uses of AI, but the judgment about what the output means belongs with someone else.

Governance that actually means something

Most tax, audit & accounting firms have an AI policy; however, far fewer have built the infrastructure that makes it operational.

The two requirements that matter most are traceability and explainability. Traceability means that every AI output cites its source 鈥� if it can’t show its work, the firm shouldn’t rely on it. Explainability means the auditor who is reviewing the output can follow the reasoning and form an independent view of whether it holds together. Both of these concepts should be requirements, not preferences. The audit partner signing the report needs to be able to stand behind every conclusion in it, and that requires being able to read the chain from input to output.

Naturally, the more difficult governance question is what “human in the loop” actually means when the processes are operational. As a principle, everyone agrees that the “human in the loop” is critically important. However, as a set of design decisions 鈥� determining at which specific points in a workflow human judgment required, how does the interface prompt it, and who is accountable when it doesn’t happen 鈥� most firms haven’t worked that out. That kind of imprecision is where audit risk can accumulate quietly.

Where AI is genuinely earning its place

None of this is an argument against AI in audit, of course. Document extraction, first-draft writing, data summarization are all areas in which AI is delivering real value, and the gains aren’t marginal. Contracts that once took days to review can be turned around in hours. Workpaper summaries and client communications that traditionally consumed senior staff time are now being handled in the first-draft stage by tools that do it well. Those hours are going back to partners and managers, and their work is better for it.

The honest picture of AI in audit is not the hype version 鈥� transformational overnight, replacing roles, reshaping everything at once. Instead, it’s more incremental than that, more uneven, and more dependent on organizational decisions than technology ones. The audit firms making the most of it aren’t the ones that moved fastest; rather, they’re the ones that were clearest about what they were trying to solve, built governance structures that could handle the friction, and invested in the human judgment that AI can support but cannot replace.

That clarity 鈥� about what AI is good for, what it isn’t, and what it requires of the people using it 鈥� is where the real work is.

You can find more about the challenges facing audit service professionals here

Key insights:

• • • Law firms and clients are both redesigning for AI 鈥� Both sides are rethinking how legal work gets done, including thoughts on operating models, talent, technology, and the role of automation in delivering services.

    • There鈥檚 a communication gap despite shared dependence 鈥� Even though each side鈥檚 AI choices directly affect the other, many law firms and legal departments are still planning separately, without enough transparency or coordination.

    • There are 5 critical shared questions they need to address together 鈥� Law firms and their clients need joint conversations about pricing, work allocation, trust, talent development, and wider industry standards to better shape a sustainable future together.

A law firm choosing its 2030 strategic business model without knowing how its clients are evolving is navigating blind 鈥� and vice versa.

And yet, across the legal profession, that is exactly what is happening. Law firms and corporate legal departments are each embarking on significant transformations 鈥� redesigning their operating models, reimagining their talent models, and making decisions about technology. What is striking is how often they are doing so in isolation from each other, retreating into their respective silos at precisely the moment when their futures are most deeply interconnected.

The pace of change raises the stakes. Ninety-one percent of corporate C-Suite leaders say the rise of AI will have a significant impact on their five-year business strategy. Further, AI adoption has nearly doubled across the legal sector over the past 12 months, and half of legal professionals say they expect agentic AI to be central to their workflow within two years.

Clearly, the decisions being made today about talent, technology, pricing, and relationships will lock in outcomes that are hard to reverse.

The AI view from corporate law departments

On the in-house corporate side, General Counsel are contending with broadening mandates, increasing demand and complexity, and a pace of business that shows no signs of slowing. Not surprisingly, AI is increasingly the strategic response: , up from 25% who said that last year. And for most that means AI-enabled capability to do more, faster, and at greater scale.

成人VR视频 Institute鈥檚 GCO 2030 research maps out what the transformed legal department could look like 鈥� from tech-forward functions that scale routine work through automation, to seamlessly integrated teams that blend internal and external expertise, to legal departments that actively supercharge peer functions like HR and Finance.

The common thread through all of this is a shift toward strategic selectivity: Doing more with sharper focus and engaging outside counsel differently as a result.

The AI view from law firms

Among law firm leaders, AI is unavoidable 鈥� in every leadership conversation that 成人VR视频 Institute researchers held with managing partners in recent months, the issue of AI came up. For many, it is seen as a lever for growth, although law firms vary considerably in how far they have moved from consideration to execution.

In fact, our recent research points to four possible models emerging on the horizon that have AI-native disruptors built around agentic automation, elite advisory boutiques in which senior judgment is the product, integrated powerhouses that combine top-tier brand with AI-enabled delivery at scale, and those that hold back from AI adoption (although the research suggests this is a delay, not a strategy). What unites the more progressive scenarios is that strategy requires genuine commitment: A firm simply cannot pursue all models at once, and the choices made about talent, pricing, and client relationships will compound over time.

You can access the full feature article,听The 2030 legal department: 5 ways AI will transform how in-house teams work听here

The problem, of course, is that both sides are designing futures that will inevitably shape the other 鈥� yet two-thirds of GCs say they do not know how their outside firms are approaching AI, and law firms report genuine uncertainty about what their clients want. This shows a clear communication gap at the heart of the legal ecosystem, and it is opening at precisely the moment that demands coordination.

The futures being designed in those silos are not mutually exclusive. When a corporate legal department shifts its model 鈥� whether automating routine work, restructuring how it engages external counsel, or reorienting toward strategic advisory 鈥� it changes the demand profile that law firms face. When a firm repositions itself around premium complexity or agentic delivery, that changes what clients can rely on externally, and therefore what they must build internally. Each side鈥檚 choices narrow or expand the options available to the other.

Addressing 5 critical questions together

Against that backdrop, there are several questions the legal profession cannot answer from within a single organization 鈥� questions that require genuine conversation between firms and the clients they serve.

The first is the question of value and pricing 鈥� In an AI-enabled legal market, how is value defined and paid for, and can the answers be fair to both sides while still encouraging innovation? If AI dramatically accelerates the delivery of advice, does efficiency become the new floor or the new ceiling? Are clients paying for outcomes, risk reduction, speed 鈥� or some combination of all three? And which side absorbs the productivity dividend?

The second question concerns where the work lives 鈥� As both law firms and legal departments expand their AI capabilities, the traditional allocation of work between in-house and external counsel will shift. Determining what genuinely belongs in each place and why 鈥� based on, for example, risk, complexity, relationships, and strategic importance 鈥� is a conversation that requires honesty from both sides.

Third is the question of trust and transparency 鈥� How can firms and their clients build shared frameworks for disclosure, governance, and accountability around AI use in a way that strengthens relationships rather than undermines them? Without these frameworks, AI integration risks eroding the relationship foundations upon which legal advice depends.

Fourth, the talent pipeline question 鈥� As the type of routine work that historically served as the apprenticeship model for past generations of lawyers rapidly disappears, both firms and legal departments face a shared responsibility for how legal talent is trained and developed.

Fifth, and perhaps most structurally significant, is which challenges are ecosystem-wide? 鈥� Data standards, interoperability, shared risk frameworks, and ethics and assurance are not problems any single organization can resolve alone but rather, are ones that require coordinated action across firms, legal departments, technology providers, and academia.

Indeed, none of these questions can be resolved in isolation, and avoiding them does not preserve the status quo, it simply locks in poor defaults. Leadership in this moment doesn鈥檛 mean having all the answers, but it does mean being willing to ask the questions out loud, with the people who need to be in the room.

The firms and legal departments that come to these questions together, rather than arriving at the table with entrenched positions already locked in, will be better positioned to build a future that is resilient, transparent, and sustainable.

To start, pick one of the five questions above and put it on the agenda for your next client or firm meeting. Not as a negotiation, but as an open conversation worth having.

That is how the communication gap between law firms and corporate legal departments gets closed 鈥� one honest conversation at a time.

Start your legal department鈥檚 future planning using our reimagine guide from the Value Alignment Toolkit

Key insights:

• • • Unauthorized practice of law rules have repeatedly come into conflict with new forms of legal self-help 鈥� Each major wave of consumer-facing legal assistance has tested the boundaries of UPL doctrine and forced courts, regulators, and lawmakers to decide where legal information ends and legal advice begins.

    • Technology has expanded access to legal information faster than regulation has adapted 鈥� LegalZoom and other justice tech companies showed that legal tools could be delivered at scale, while UPL doctrine often struggled to accommodate new models of legal assistance designed for consumers with unmet legal needs.

    • The rise of AI makes the old UPL framework increasingly inadequate 鈥� As GenAI tools provide legal research, document assistance, and guided analysis directly to the public, regulators should move beyond the LegalZoom-era battles and consider a framework focused on consumer protection, transparency, and actual harm.

This two-part blog series examining how regulators, the legal profession, and individual litigants are looking at the unauthorized practice of law (UPL) first looks at the history of UPL and then suggests a consumer protection-based method of regulation to replace today鈥檚 supplier-based regulations.

With three-quarters of state court cases including at least one self-represented party, and with 92% of Americans with a legal problem not getting the legal help they need, it鈥檚 not surprising that the unauthorized practice of law (UPL) is a concept that鈥檚 not far from people鈥檚 minds.

It does not have to be this way, of course, and there are solutions to the thornier issues with UPL; but first, it may be helpful to understand how we got to this place and how UPL has evolved.

Legal self-help in a pre-Internet world

In the late-1800s, before UPL was formally articulated, John Wells published “Every Man His Own Lawyer”, a widely circulated guide that explained legal principles and provided practical forms. Its popularity reflected sustained public demand for accessible legal information. Around the same time, the organized bar began to emerge, along with more structured efforts to define and protect the boundaries of legal practice.

By the early-1900s, auto clubs were providing legal help to their members, demonstrating an early form of a prepaid legal services plan that exists to this day, but with typically a wider array of services. As would be the case in later years, an economic downturn soon brought a fight as lawyers used threats of UPL to fight competition. Not long after the Great Depression began, the ABA formed the Committee on Unauthorized Practice of Law, and a wave of litigation ensued to essential end the offering from auto clubs.

Similar dynamics appeared later in the 20th century. In the 1960s, soon before the recession of the 1970s, Norman Dacey鈥檚 “How to Avoid Probate!” offered readers tools to manage estate planning without engaging a lawyer. The response included investigations and attempts to suppress the book. Courts ultimately clarified that providing general legal information, even when presented in a structured and practical format, does not constitute individualized legal advice and falls within the scope of protected speech.

Tech enters the equation

By the 1990s, these ideas had moved into a digital environment. Companies such as Nolo and Parsons Technology translated legal forms and guidance into software and the Texas State Bar sued in federal court. Although the bar initially prevailed, a legislative response introduced a software exception to UPL that remains in effect today, reflecting an early acknowledgment that technology-based tools required a different regulatory lens.

By early 2000s, LegalZoom extended these concepts at scale. By automating document creation across a wide range of legal needs, it brought structured legal tools directly to consumers in a more accessible format. While not the first provider of self-help legal resources, it demonstrated how technology could move online and operationalize these services at a national level 鈥� not surprisingly, this effort would face resistance at a whole new level.

Launched in 2001, LegalZoom argued that it just represented the modern evolution of books like those written by Wells and Dacey. The response from the legal establishment was ferocious. It began with state bar inquiries trying to understand what LegalZoom was offering, and as the Global Financial Crisis began in 2007, class action lawsuits and regulatory challenges followed.

These suits sought significant damages without alleging specific consumer harm, creating substantial pressure on a still-developing sector and signaled resistance to new models of service delivery. The objections were ostensibly about consumer protection, while more reflecting concerns about changes to established structures in the legal profession.

LegalZoom won some of the class actions and settled others on friendly terms, typically agreeing to limit the use of certain words in its advertising, paying some class member claims, offering its attorney-access plans on a complimentary basis, and paying attorneys鈥� fees.

Supreme Court precedents

Two U.S. Supreme Court decisions would prove highly important to the UPL battles. The first came in in which the Court ruled that companies could include class action waivers in arbitration provisions. Soon after, LegalZoom began implementing this type of arbitration provision to coincide with the resolution of several major class actions to make sustaining a class action against it in the future more difficult.

The second Supreme Court ruling to impact UPL came in in which the Court ruled that a state occupational licensing board cannot claim state-action antitrust immunity if a controlling number of its decision-makers are active market participants in the occupation it regulates and the state does not actively supervise the board. This decision put state bars at risk.

The fight that changed the conversation was the LegalZoom lawsuit against the North Carolina State Bar (NCSB) that was modeled after the result in the Dental Board matter. LegalZoom had built a prepaid legal services plan offering attorney access to its customers 鈥� a narrower version of what the auto clubs had offered in the past. These types of plans historically were supported by the ABA and National Association of Attorneys General, but a few states pushed back on LegalZoom offering one. Most notably, North Carolina objected and LegalZoom sued the NCSB for a declaratory judgment that it was not engaged in UPL as well as on antitrust and other grounds, leading to a settlement and cooperative legislation that cleared the way for LegalZoom to continue operations, including launching its legal plan, in that state.

Upon the case’s conclusion, University of Tennessee College of Law professor , LegalZoom fought the North Carolina Bar 鈥� and LegalZoom won. Barton opined that the 鈥淪outh Carolina [where the Supreme Court had found LegalZoom practices lawful] and North Carolina precedents will likely end all state bar action on UPL.鈥� He was largely correct, as future LegalZoom and other industry skirmishes would not amount to much, allowing the industry to thrive.

The future of UPL

Today, the LegalZoom fights look quaint. It was essentially a fight over the online equivalents to form books, when a few years later AI would explode onto the scene and upend everything. We now have everything from foundation models such as ChatGPT, Claude, and Gemini to legal specialists available to the public and generating research memos at the push of a button.

This, perhaps, brings us back to where we started. And now may be the time to ask whether a new system of regulation is needed around UPL, because no other justice tech company should have to run the gauntlet of fights that LegalZoom faced.

In the next part of this blog series, we will look at how the issues raised by UPL in the AI age may require a new regulatory solution, possibly one based on a consumer protection model that would replace today鈥檚 supplier-based regulations

Key insights:

• • • AI is supercharging old fraud schemes听鈥� By making synthetic identities, deepfake scams, and customer fraud faster, more credible, and harder to detect, AI is amplifying fraud and crime.

    • The real vulnerability may be internal silos听鈥� Institutions need to be on the lookout, because what looks like a credit loss, an HR issue, or a payment request may actually be part of a wider multi-vector AI-enabled attack.

    • Institutions already have the tools to respond听鈥� Through KYC and internal and behavioral data, financial institutions have the ability to respond to fraud threats 鈥� but only if teams connect and act together.

Fraud and crime existed long before AI, of course, but today鈥檚 technology delivers an acceleration in speed, scale, and success rate for fraudsters, resulting in billions of dollars in losses for victims. AI-enabled frauds on financial institutions by 2027 in the United States alone, and of detected fraud attempts on financial institutions use AI 鈥� and of these, 29% are successful.

To respond effectively to these threats, institutions need to implement a unified response that brings together departments that may not traditionally be partners. This cross-functional coordination should include not only the institution鈥檚 fraud and financial crime risk teams but also its credit risk, cybersecurity, and human resources functions.

And this response is critical, because today, financial institutions are being targeted by multiple types of AI-enabled attacks, including tactics such as:

• • • use of synthetic identities to circumvent know your customer/customer due diligence (KYC/CDD) controls and perpetrate fraud or launder money;
    • use of deepfake identities to gain employment, particularly by North Korean IT workers;
    • AI-enhanced 鈥淐EO frauds鈥� to deceive staff into taking unauthorized actions; and
    • Bank customers may be targeted by fraud too, presenting further risk to financial institutions.

Let鈥檚 look at these threat vectors individually:

Vector 1: Synthetic identities and KYC/CDD

Synthetic identities can be entirely fabricated or may use combinations of real and fabricated personal information to create a new identity. For example, a fraudster may construct a synthetic identity using a Social Security number exposed during a data breach combined with an AI-generated passport.

This threat is real and happening now: identifies that criminals have already used AI to successfully open accounts using falsified documents, photographs, and videos. And according to , synthetic identities were used to open as many as 3% of US bank accounts, representing millions of identities. Not surprisingly, these illicit accounts are used to commit fraud and launder the proceeds of money laundering.

Vector 2: North Korean IT workers

North Korean individuals have successfully gained employment as remote IT workers at American companies, often passing themselves off as US nationals using AI-generated face-swapping technology combined with proxy computers and false identity documents. North Korean IT workers are almost $800 million annually for the regime.

Institutions deceived into employing these workers are not only against North Korea, but they are also exposing commercially sensitive data and systems to an adversary state, increasing the possibility of theft, cyber-attacks, and extortion.

Vector 3: CEO Fraud

A 鈥淐EO fraud鈥� is a cybercrime in which an attacker impersonates an executive to deceive an employee into taking actions such as sending unauthorized wire transfers or disclosing sensitive information. AI accelerates these frauds by making them more personalized and credible.

In one of the more well-known examples, in an AI-enhanced CEO fraud in 2024 after the fraudster impersonated Arup Engineering鈥檚 CFO and requested a staff member to make several financial transfers. The criminals added credibility to the fraud by using a in which the target recognized many of their colleagues 鈥� unfortunately, all of them were deepfakes.

Vector 4: Frauds targeting customers

Where customers are targets, AI provides the scale, speed, and personalization to allow illicit actors to deliver individualized fraud. For example, whereas romance scams previously used repetitive scripts and re-used the same images of the romantic 鈥減artner,鈥� fraudsters can now use AI-generated messages, images, or videos, continuously adapting the execution of the scam to the target鈥檚 responses and behaviors.

Creating a cross-functional and unified response

The examples above demonstrate the diverse and highly sophisticated uses of AI by illicit actors, both adversary states and criminal networks. Detecting and responding to these illicit activities requires joint action between teams that may not traditionally work closely together.

For example, if an account holder fails to repay a loan, the credit team may consider it to be a default by a legitimate customer and write it off as a credit loss. However, if the account was opened using a synthetic identity, investigation may reveal other accounts that share similar customer data points or transactional patterns. This could reveal a network of accounts that are perpetrating a fraud or money-laundering scheme. To detect and respond effectively, joint action is needed between KYC/CDD on-boarding teams, financial crime investigators, and fraud and credit risk professionals.

Alternatively, for HR teams to effectively identify use of face-swapping videos during a hiring process, knowledge from the organization鈥檚 cybersecurity team, especially of deepfake indicators, would be valuable. If a North Korea IT worker is hired and only later identified, cybersecurity and sanctions teams must be involved in the response to mitigate data, network, and compliance exposures.

Detecting and responding to all illicit activities requires joint action between teams that may not traditionally work closely together.

Finally, all staff may be targeted by deepfake fraud, but those in senior positions or departments with financial authority are the most vulnerable. This means it is essential for institutions to deliver employee training using real-life case studies, 鈥渘ear misses,鈥� and scenarios drawn from across the institution and industry. This type of training will increase vigilance and minimize the likelihood of a successful attack.

For customers, financial institutions are well-positioned to identify indicators of fraud due to their extensive datasets of KYC/CDD records, transactional, and behavioral information. Institutions should enhance their customer relationships (as well as meet applicable regulatory requirements) by taking proactive measures to inform and protect their customers.

While AI has accelerated fraud and crime, financial institutions also hold valuable and relevant assets: the knowledge distributed across their cybersecurity, HR, credit risk, financial crime compliance, fraud, and KYC/CDD teams. By connecting these teams together, even in contexts in which these departments have not traditionally been partners, institutions will be well-positioned to protect both themselves and their customers from illicit actors鈥� sophisticated AI-enabled threats.

You can learn more about the fraud-fighting challenges faced by financial institutions and other organizations here

Key highlights:

• • • The theory-practice gap is now an AI-era crisis鈥� Integrating legal training with hands-on pro bono experience is the future of legal education.

    • A collaborative model merges learning and doing into a single platform鈥� The model connects law students with vetted pro bono opportunities from legal services organizations, while also offering targeted, skills-based training at the moment students step into those matters.

    • Pro bono work is uniquely suited for responsible AI training鈥� On-demand programs led by expert faculty are available to help students sharpen pro bono skills, understand the use of AI in today鈥檚 legal practice, and stay on top of developments in numerous industry and practice areas.

Legal education has operated on a familiar, decades-long divide that saw students spend their first years learning the law in the classroom and then after graduation, gaining substantive experience practicing the law in the real world. This gap has always been costly for both students and legal employers, and now it鈥檚 emerging as untenable in an era in which AI is rapidly reshaping what junior lawyers do.

Pro bono and skills training close this gap

A new partnership between , a pro bono management platform, and the (PLI), a nonprofit provider of learning resources for legal professionals, is designed to close this gap while showing something larger about where legal education must go.

The partnership is designed to equip students with on-demand, actionable training that supports effective pro bono engagement by offering access to PLI’s training programs directly through Paladin’s platform. Since launching with 30 law schools in August 2025, students have signed up for thousands of pro bono cases through the platform, according to , Co-founder and CEO of Paladin.

For years, experiential learning in law schools was something students had to piece together on their own by hunting across spreadsheets, clinic listings, and externship postings for opportunities, says Sonday, adding that too often students were given little guidance on what they were walking into.

The partnership is designed to equip students with on-demand, actionable training that supports effective pro bono engagement

“What’s fundamentally different is the integration and centralization of learning and doing,” Sonday explains. “Historically, legal education has separated theory, training, and practice.” Now, she notes, a student can learn a concept, build confidence through targeted training, and apply it in a real-world setting within a short amount of time.

, Chief Strategy Officer at PLI, describes the experience from the student’s perspective: 鈥淲hen a first-year logs into the Paladin platform, they are not thrown into the deep end. Instead, they can access skills-based programs, such as a PLI program specifically on how to interview a pro bono client before they ever sit across from someone in need. This leads to a better experience for the student, the law school, and especially for the client.”

Pro bono work suited to responsible AI training

The urgency behind this partnership is inseparable from the impact AI is having on the entry-level legal market.

“We’re already seeing AI reduce the time spent on tasks like initial legal research, document review, drafting memos, and summarizing case law,鈥� Sonday says. 鈥淭his is work that has traditionally formed the foundation of junior associate training.鈥� The skills AI cannot replicate 鈥� such as judgment, issue spotting in ambiguous situations, client communication, and ethical decision-making 鈥� are what students need to develop deliberately earlier in their legal careers.

Indeed, those human skills are essential to the effective use of AI, Talmage says. The lawyer of the future will be a strategic advisor and creative problem solver, which are the very attorney roles that AI cannot fill, she explains, adding that those must be cultivated through experience. “You always need to be questioning and verifying and authenticating 鈥� and that’s generally a lawyer鈥檚 role.鈥�

For years, experiential learning in law schools was something students had to piece together on their own by hunting across spreadsheets, clinic listings, and externship postings for opportunities.

There is a particular logic as to why pro bono work is the right fit for learning to use AI responsibly. Pro bono is “a built-in, humans-in-the-loop model” in which students are always supervised by attorneys, Sonday says. And this supervision creates a structured environment in which to learn how to use AI tools, apply them to real matters, get feedback, and iterate. The result, Sonday argues, will be more attorneys who are AI-fluent early on and throughout their careers.

A message to law school leaders

For law school leaders, both Sonday and Talmage highlight that AI use has already changed the legal profession. The choice then for law schools is whether they evolve by design or by default.

Students know the legal profession has changed and so do employers, CLE providers, and clients, Talmage explains.

Sonday agrees. “The pace of change in the legal profession is accelerating, and students need to be prepared not just for the law today, but also for the practice of law in the future,鈥� she says. 鈥淚ntegrating pro bono platforms and AI-specific training aligns legal education with reality.”

The Paladin/PLI partnership offers a blueprint for what legal education must become in the future, transforming itself into a space that鈥檚 grounded in applied legal knowledge, human-supervised, and AI-informed. Indeed, the best way to train the next generation of lawyers is to give them real clients, real cases, and real responsibility while they still have room to grow.

You can find more about the challenges facing law schools and legal education here

Key insights:

• • • AI is changing legal鈥檚 role, not just its workload 鈥� Going forward, AI will do more than automate routine tasks, it also will help in-house legal teams become more strategic business partners.

    • The 5 archetypes make the transformation concrete 鈥� There are five practical ways in which AI could reshape legal work, including automation, stronger advising, better collaboration, and global scale.

    • Every organization鈥檚 AI transformation will be different 鈥� 成人VR视频鈥� own legal transformation journey shows the common and unique aspects of this process.

Beyond the automation, productivity boosts, or the now-familiar promise of doing more with less, the question over how AI will really transform the work that corporate legal departments do on a daily basis, has yet to be truly answered.

To deepen our understanding of where in-house legal is really heading next, Norie Campbell, 成人VR视频 Chief Legal Officer, and Lizzy Duffy, a Senior Director of the 成人VR视频 Institute, produced a new feature article, The 2030 legal department: 5 ways AI will transform how in-house teams work听that steps back from the day-to-day noise around AI and asks the bigger, more interesting question: 鈥淲hat is the legal function actually becoming?鈥�

Importantly, the article recognizes that in-house legal teams are navigating real constraints around time, budget, and clarity even as expectations continue to evolve. It also acknowledges how GCs are balancing rising demands with a growing focus on efficiency, while also working to define what effective and meaningful AI adoption should look like for their teams.

Indeed, this human pressure is one of the most compelling aspects to the questions corporate law departments are facing today, and it reverberates beyond a simple theory of AI in legal to really reflect a profession at a turning point.

The five archetypes

The feature also lays out five archetypes 鈥� distinct models for how AI could reshape legal work, from high-volume automation to better strategic advising, stronger business partnering, smarter collaboration with outside counsel, and truly global leverage across teams and languages.

By referencing these five archetypes, legal department leaders can start asking where their own teams fit, and what they need to do to get better prepared for the AI-driven legal future of 2030.

These archetypes cover everything from deciding on the best ways to leverage AI-led automation to helping legal teams become more proactive strategic advisers. The archetypes also detail how to foster collaboration that can allow other corporate functions to act more confidently without constant legal intervention. And how to use AI to reduce barriers caused by language and time zones, enabling multinational legal teams to work more effectively across geographies.

By referencing these five archetypes, legal department leaders can start asking where their own teams fit, and what they need to do to get better prepared for the AI-driven legal future of 2030.

成人VR视频鈥� own journey

This feature article also builds a practical, grounded picture of the future from inside 成人VR视频鈥� own General Counsel鈥檚 Office (GCO), showing readers a transformation that鈥檚 already taking shape.

This insider perspective offers a front-row look at how one GCO is trying to move from experimentation to real transformation and tells a bigger story than technology alone. Today鈥檚 transformation of the corporate legal department is really about leadership, ambition, and the choices department leaders need to make now if they want to stay relevant by 2030.

More than anything, the feature article stresses that adopting AI tools is not the same as true transformation. To move beyond incremental gains, legal departments must redesign workflows, improve data infrastructure, invest in training, and hire for adaptability and technical literacy. Ultimately, the central message is that efficiency is only a by-product 鈥� the real challenge is deciding what kind of legal function an organization will need in 2030 and how to start building toward that vision now.

You can access the full feature article, The 2030 legal department: 5 ways AI will transform how in-house teams work here

Key highlights:

• • • Curriculum听redesign must start now 鈥� One law school鈥檚 approach illustrates the necessity of mapping the entire curriculum to identify which skills to preserve, evolve, or build from scratch.

    • Training faculty in AI use is critical 鈥� Faculty AI training should be a multi-layered approach including hands-on training with specialized legal AI tools, guidance on redesigning curricula, and more.

    • AI simulations may be the key 鈥� Law school leaders need to act now by experimenting with small pilot projects and building simulation-based learning tools to replace the developmental depth that once came naturally in the first years of practice.

The debate about AI consuming most of the work that teaches essential lawyering skills to junior attorneys is forcing a reckoning with the long-held assumption that law schools were never designed to produce practice-ready lawyers and that it was always the profession’s job.

Indeed, AI is forcing that uncomfortable truth into the open faster than anyone anticipated because essential lawyering work 鈥� the document review, contract markup, research memo creation 鈥� dictated how a junior lawyer learned to spot the issue buried on page 47, to sense when a clause was off, and to develop the instinct that no classroom can fully replicate. Now, as more law firms deploy AI to handle precisely those entry-level tasks, the organic training moments that used to define the first two to three years of legal practice are evaporating.

, Executive Dean, Faculty of Law at Bond University, and Co-Chair of the Council of Australian Law Deans, says he sees where this is leading. The ultimate results will be firms hiring fewer junior lawyers today because AI has taken over that entry-level work, James explains, adding that means there will simply be no pipeline of mid-level, experienced lawyers to draw from in three to five years. Indeed, this is a slow-moving crisis, already in motion, and yet to fully arrive.

This crisis lands at the center of what the AI and Future of Legal Practice (AIFLP) initiative exists to address because at the core of this crisis is what does being job-ready really means when the job itself is being redefined. Answering this question requires law schools, law firms, licensing bodies, and technologists to do something they have historically struggled to do 鈥� that is to think and act collaboratively.

Rethinking the curriculum before AI does it for you

leads IE Law School鈥檚 AI initiative and is steering the school鈥檚 efforts to embed AI across the curriculum. To do so effectively, her approach requires going back to a broader set of foundational questions in legal education such as: For what is legal education meant to prepare students? How do students learn to develop legal judgment? What makes legal advice genuinely valuable? And what skills are essential to deliver that value in an AI-enabled profession?

鈥淟ayering AI tools on top of an unchanged curriculum serves no one,鈥� Perez-Llorca explains, adding that without answers to the fundamental questions, 鈥測ou are just adding technology to a structure that was never designed to handle it.鈥�

Check out how one law school professor is building AI simulation tools

IE law school is currently mapping its entire curriculum to determine which skills need to be preserved, which need to evolve, and which need to be built from scratch, while also using the AI-boosted curriculum to train faculty. Perez-Llorca describes the school鈥檚 faculty AI training as a multi-layered approach encompassing university-wide LLM training, substantive AI law curriculum review, hands-on training with specialized legal AI tools, guidance on redesigning curricula, and assessments to reflect students’ growing AI proficiency. Before students can be taught with AI, professors need to understand the tools themselves and how to use them in teaching, in simulation, and in assessment, she adds.

An AI tutor that meets students where they are

Bond University鈥檚 James says he has spent the last several months building an AI tutor designed to walk students through course material the way a patient, attentive instructor would. His vision for the AI teaching assistant supports the professor meeting students where they are. 鈥淚t [the AI tutor] introduces the week’s topic, outlines learning outcomes, guides students through the readings, checks comprehension with short quizzes, and then adapts in real time based on how the student responds,鈥� James explains, adding that the AI tutor will pull any student who is struggling deeper into the material until the learning outcome is achieved. 鈥淭he conversation never stops until the learning does.鈥�

However, James is careful to draw a clear distinction about what the tutor replaces and what it does not, stressing that AI is a substitute for the lecture recording, the static reading list, or the passive video watched at midnight before an exam 鈥� but it chiefly exists to support the law professor. This approach frees up class time, turning it from content delivery to more meaningful the time between the human instructor and students, he adds.

Act by design or default

The approaches by both Perez-Llorca and James point to a way to address the question of disappearing tasks that teach essential lawyering skills as well as shift the center of gravity in legal education toward ways to foster developmental skills and legal judgment. Indeed, inertia is not a strategy, and law school deans and associate deans can be at the forefront of this fight by taking decisive action, including:

• • • Experiment freely 鈥� Investigate with AI on your own by starting small with a pilot project.
    • Strategically assign where AI goes 鈥� Decide where AI belongs in the curriculum, such as in courses focused on legal research and drafting as they become commoditized by AI. Also, determine in which instances AI does not belong, such as counseling clients through ambiguity, navigating ethical complexity, and advocating persuasively. Make sure these all remain led by human lawyers.
    • Focus on skills 鈥� Map your law school鈥檚 curriculum by identifying which skills need to be preserved, which skills need to evolve, and which need to be built from scratch.
    • Build AI-assisted teaching tools 鈥� Make experiential and simulation-based learning central to the curriculum.

鈥淭he choice is between dealing with this crisis by design or by default,鈥� James says, noting that the pipeline problem he described is already in motion while the practitioners, educators, technologists, and licensing bodies that need to solve this together are not yet consistently in the same room.

Watch our recent Clarity podcast to see

Key findings:

• • • Law students understand risks and opportunities of AI use 鈥� Almost three-quarters (72%) of students surveyed say they see AI literacy as essential, while an even larger portion (74%) say they also recognize the risks of over-reliance.

    • Student AI adoption is already widespread 鈥� Almost 6 in 10 law students use AI several times per week for academic work, but much of this learning is happening through self-education rather than structured teaching.

    • AI guidance in law schools remains inconsistent 鈥� Close to a majority (48%) of students report that AI policies vary by professor, and almost one-third (32%) say that their schools do not give them the AI skills needed for their future career.

There is a significant and growing divide between how law students understand artificial intelligence and how legal institutions, such as law schools, are responding to it, according to a new 成人VR视频 Institute white paper.

Jump to 鈫�

2026 Law Student Pulse Survey

The 2026 Law Student Pulse Survey, based on responses from more than 1,800 law students that were collected in April 2026, challenges two assumptions that have long dominated institutional thinking. The first is that students are reckless adopters who use AI to bypass the hard cognitive work of legal education. The second is that students are passive and uninformed consumers of a technology they do not fully grasp. The data shows that neither characterization is accurate.

In reality, 72% of responding students identify AI literacy as an essential professional skill, while 74% simultaneously acknowledge that over-reliance on AI could undermine the development of their own core legal competencies. Holding both of these positions in tandem reflects a level of professional maturity that many institutions have yet to demonstrate in their own policies and curricula.

The survey also exposes a serious institutional gap. Nearly one-third of students report that their school does not provide the AI skills needed for their future legal careers. And nearly half indicate that AI policies vary by professor, leaving students without coherent and consistent institutional guidance on what responsible AI use actually looks like.

Far-reaching consequences

The consequences of this AI-understanding gap extend well beyond the classroom. Students are entering the workforce self-taught and inconsistently prepared, at a moment when legal employers are moving quickly to embed AI fluency into their hiring and development expectations. The profession is at risk of producing graduates who are sophisticated enough to recognize the stakes but underprepared to meet them.

The full white paper outlines specific, actionable recommendations for law schools, bar associations and accreditors, and legal employers to follow to better address this gap in AI understanding.

You can download

a full copy of the 成人VR视频 Institute’s “2026 Law Student Pulse Survey” by filling out the form below:

Key insights:

• • • Accountability, not adoption, is the central governance challenge听鈥� With many institutions using AI a variety of tasks, informal “shadow AI” use is expanding without consistent oversight.

    • Justice systems now face a parallel governance problem 鈥� They must find a way to regulate AI while using AI inside the institutions that enforce rights, while allowing responsible innovation that improves efficiency and access to justice.

    • AI needs to be integrated into broader justice reform听鈥� Without strong data governance and clear boundaries between AI assistance and legal judgment, courts risk automating inefficiency, deepening inequities, and undermining public trust.

Even as AI governance frameworks remain mired in ongoing debate, justice systems are moving ahead with implementation. Courts and dispute resolution institutions are integrating AI into their operations to more efficiently digitize records and automate workflows.

This introduces the very real challenge of parallel governance. We must now determine not only how AI should be regulated, but how it operates within the very institutions responsible for enforcing rights.

And this intersection is no longer theoretical: Does AI governance strengthen fairness, preserve independence, and expand access 鈥� or does it undermine their very foundations?

From experimentation to embedded use

Across jurisdictions, AI is often framed as an administrative tool that can handle basic tasks such as transcription, translation, case triage, and more, as well as providing analytics to identify delays or inefficiencies.

These applications respond to real constraints, such as overburdened courts, limited resources, and persistent backlogs. Similarly, dispute resolution platforms are integrating AI to guide users through processes and structure negotiations.

However, this formal adoption tells only part of the story. AI is also entering justice systems informally. Judges, clerks, and lawyers are independently using general-purpose tools in their daily work, often without guidance, oversight, or a clear grasp of the tools鈥� implications for security, confidentiality, and discoverability. As one expert observed: 鈥淪hadow AI is already happening.鈥�

The absence of governance does not prevent AI use; and, in fact, it may encourage misuse. This shadow AI simply pushes AI usage into unstructured and unmonitored areas 鈥� the risk then becomes not adoption itself, but uneven adoption that evolves beyond institutional control.

It鈥檚 no longer a question that justice systems need to engage with AI; however, that engagement has be done deliberately and in a way that allows governance frameworks to keep pace without constraining beneficial use.

While it鈥檚 no longer a question that justice systems need to engage with AI, that engagement has be done deliberately and in a way that allows governance frameworks to keep pace without constraining beneficial use.

Automating inefficiency?

Efficiency is often the entry point for AI in justice systems; but efficiency alone is not reform. And misapplied efficiency can often lead to its direct opposite: a scramble to repair broken systems or to plug technology and personnel gaps.

Many current AI initiatives remain isolated pilots 鈥� layered onto existing processes rather than integrated into broader institutional strategy. Without addressing underlying structural constraints like fragmented data, inconsistent procedures, and uneven infrastructure, AI risks automating inefficiency rather than resolving it. And without strong data governance, infrastructure, and institutional alignment, even well-designed AI tools will underperform or produce unreliable outcomes.

That means that efforts to tightly control AI deployment without addressing these foundational issues risk focusing on symptoms rather than the system itself. AI should not function as a parallel modernization effort; rather, it must align with broader justice system reform.

Clearly, the most consequential questions arise when AI tools begin to shape legal reasoning or outcomes. And while there is broad agreement that AI can support judicial work without replacing independent human judgment, in practice, however, the boundary between assistance and influence is not always clear.

Even administrative tools can shape decisions. Summaries may omit nuance, or suggested language can influence framing. Over time, reliance on system outputs can create subtle forms of dependency. In fact, this dynamic is compounded by what has been described as the myth of verification 鈥� the assumption that human oversight alone is sufficient. In reality, time constraints, cognitive bias, and limited technical fluency can make meaningful review difficult. And automation bias affects even experienced decision-makers.

Overall, these boundaries require deliberate definition. Left on their own, AI tools and their outputs will be shaped implicitly through practice rather than through principled governance.

Design determines outcome

Institutional capacity will determine how these dynamics play out because digital maturity varies widely across jurisdictions. Some courts operate advanced platforms, while others remain largely paper based. In lower-resource environments, infrastructure may not support even basic digitization. In more advanced systems, adoption may outpace governance.

Yet, one consistent challenge among all jurisdictions is reliance on external vendors. Without internal expertise, institutions risk adopting tools that meet technical requirements but fall short of rule-of-law standards, particularly in transparency, accountability, and data governance.

Justice systems are not neutral environments for technology adoption 鈥� they are the operational core of the rule of law.

Addressing this gap requires more than a procurement issue. It requires institutional literacy. Judges and administrators need a working understanding of how AI systems function, where risks arise, and how to evaluate them. Training efforts are underway, but scaling this capacity will take time. In the interim, governance gaps will persist and attempts to compensate for these gaps through overly rigid restrictions may limit adoption but do little to build the institutional capability required for effective oversight.

From adoption to accountability

Clearly, AI will not improve justice systems by default; rather its impact will be determined by institutional design, which includes clear boundaries on use, transparency around deployment, safeguards to protect independence, and mechanisms for oversight and accountability. It also requires alignment with broader justice system goals of efficiency, fairness, and accessibility.

Yet, justice systems are not neutral environments for technology adoption. They are the operational core of the rule of law. Their legitimacy depends on trust, which in turn requires accountability.

This makes the path forward not purely a technical one. It requires institutional self-assessment, alignment with human rights frameworks, and collaboration across policymakers, courts, technologists, and the public. The measure of success will not be the sophistication of the tools deployed, but whether they strengthen the system鈥檚 core functions of impartiality, accessibility, and trust.

AI tools can support those goals, of course, but only if they are designed into justice systems from the outset.

You can find other installments of听our Scaling Justice blog series here

Key insights:

• • • Consensus among AI systems is not the same as correctness 鈥� Agreement between AI models often signals shared blind spots, not truth; and AI errors can be highly correlated across instances and even across model families.

    • Productive disagreement must be explicitly designed into AI advisors 鈥� Multi鈥慳gent AI systems are most effective when they are intentionally built to preserve meaningful disagreement, not just to synthesize a unified response.

    • The future of AI advisory mirrors long鈥憇tanding human decision-making 鈥� Modern multi鈥慳gent AI design has a long historical lineage; yet, across all examples, the same principle holds: The best decision systems are engineered for internal conflict.

In this new two鈥憄art blog series, we explore why AI works best as an executive advisor not by delivering consensus answers, but by being intentionally designed to identify, preserve, and productively leverage disagreement. In the first part, we saw why a single AI advisor is structurally vulnerable; now, in this concluding part, we look at what happens when you design disagreement on purpose.

The academic evidence for multi-agent AI systems has been building rapidly, and the most important findings aren’t about the power of agreement. They’re about the danger of it.

In February, , a product that sends every query simultaneously to three frontier AI models (Claude, GPT, and Gemini) then uses a fourth chair model to synthesize a unified answer. The product’s value proposition isn’t that three models produce a better answer than one; rather, it’s that divergence between models is treated as a signal. When models converge, that indicates confidence, but when they diverge, that indicates the user should slow down.

Studies have borne this out. Multi-agent debate compared to single-model generation, and researchers at the University of G枚ttingen found that , with their voting protocols outperforming other decision structures. However, potentially the most important finding cuts against the hype. In a 2026 paper, , the authors demonstrated that AI model errors are highly correlated both within and across model families. When three instances of the same model agree, it doesn’t mean they’re right, rather it means they may share the same blind spots. Aggregation increases consensus faster than it increases truth.

The future of AI-assisted executive decision-making may look less like a single brilliant oracle and more like a room full of advisors that may often disagree because that’s how the best decisions have always been made.

This finding cuts both ways for practitioners like 成人VR视频 enterprise architect Zafar Khan and his two AI advisors, Adrian and Elara, that were built on the same underlying model but differentiated by their analytical frameworks rather than their architecture. The divergence they produce is real and visible. For example, the analysis the two AI advisors did on a deal undertaken by Eaton Corp., in particular generated genuinely different conclusions because the two advisors were oriented towards different priorities.

Yet, research suggests that same-model divergence, while effective, has a ceiling. Prompt-driven personas can ask different questions, but they share the same training, the same blind spots, and the same failure modes. Khan is candid about this, noting that his current system is in the 鈥渧ery early鈥� stages and is not a finished product. The value right now, he says, isn’t that Adrian and Elara are equivalent to truly independent minds, it’s that even a first-generation version of structured disagreement can identify insights that a single advisor would miss. It鈥檚 a large stride rather than an arrival at the ultimate destination.

The future of AI advisory is in the past

The principle behind this diverging analysis concept isn’t new. Indeed, it might be one of the oldest ideas in institutional design, rediscovered independently by many institutions that had to make decisions under uncertainty. Socrates built a philosophical method around cross-examination; Pope Sixtus V formalized opposition by creating the Devil’s Advocate in 1587; and the RAND Corporation operationalized it during the Cold War with the Delphi Method, using structured anonymous iteration to prevent groupthink.

The through-line across two millennia is simply that the best decision-making systems don’t minimize disagreement, rather, they engineer it.

Today, the developer community now uses production-grade code review tools to assign architecture, security, and functionality analysis to separate agents, using majority voting for routine decisions and unanimous consent for irreversible ones. And what Khan has built and what Perplexity, Microsoft’s Agent Framework, and a growing ecosystem of multi-agent tools are now pursuing, are the latest iterations of the simple concept: Internal conflict is not a system failure, it is a design requirement.

The question is no longer “whether”

Khan’s vision for what should sit at the decision table is specific 鈥� five AI advisors spanning technology, finance, regulation, workforce, and geopolitical risk. Each applies its own analytical framework, with the human executive responsible for integration and final judgment. The guardrails are three: i) transparency about what data the system uses; ii) verifiability that sources are legitimate; and iii) human accountability at every decision point.

“The race towards AGI [artificial general intelligence] is moving faster,” Khan acknowledges, adding that the human needs to be in the loop in order to bring AI to work in a governance fashion and an ethical way.

“I want to show the interaction between human and AI advisor, how they’re thinking through the problem together,” he explains. “Where the human judgment covers the analysis and where it diverges.” In other words, when the AI advisors agree, that’s your green light. When they diverge, that’s the conversation your board should be having.

The future of AI-assisted executive decision-making may look less like a single brilliant oracle and more like a room full of advisors that may often disagree because that’s how the best decisions have always been made. The technology to build that room now exists; however, the question is whether today鈥檚 leaders have the discipline to listen when the room argues back.

For more on AI transformation in the professional services market, you can download the 成人VR视频 Institute鈥檚听2026 AI in Professional Services Report