On 12 November 2026, a sentence takes effect in the usage policy of Anthropic, the company behind the assistant Claude. It forbids users from engaging in “sustained and needless abusive or cruel behavior toward our models”. A company has written, into a commercial contract, that being cruel to its own product is not allowed.

The news travelled the world in forty-eight hours, usually in a false form: “Anthropic will close your account if you insult its AI.” That is not what the text says, and we will show it word for word.

But there is a far more serious reason to care about this clause, and it has barely been told. Since March 2025, four unconnected research teams have published work pointing in the same direction, by four different methods: negative emotional context does not only change what a model says about itself. It changes its refusals, and it changes the actions it performs.

So Le Recul’s verdict is twofold. On the rule: it is real, narrow, and massively over-interpreted — you can still snap at an AI. On the research: the question “does AI suffer?” has no answer for now, and it is probably the wrong question. The right one is far less comfortable: a model’s refusal to harm you is not a fixed property. It is a state, and states can be moved.

What becomes forbidden on 12 November 2026, word for word

Anthropic published its revised usage policy on 8 October 2026. It takes effect on 12 November. It is the first overhaul in more than a year.

The clause sits in the Universal Usage Standards, under a section titled “Do Not Engage in Cruel, Abusive, or Psychologically Harmful Conduct”. Its text, for the part concerning the models, fits on one line: users must not “engage in sustained and needless abusive or cruel behavior toward our models”.

Two words do all the work, and they are the two the coverage dropped:

  • sustained — an isolated exchange does not fall under the clause;
  • needless — if there is a discernible purpose, the clause does not apply.

Anthropic spells out the scope itself, and the list of exclusions is broad: the rule “does not apply to common versions of user frustration, pushback, dark creative themes, or model testing and research”. The company adds that the update “is meant to apply only in extreme cases”.

Is it bad to be rude to AI? The precise answer

No, and you can still insult one.

Telling an assistant its answer is bad, repeating that it got things wrong, contradicting it sharply, losing patience, writing violent fiction, probing its limits as part of research or security work: none of these uses falls under the clause, and three of them are excluded by name.

What the clause targets is behaviour meeting both conditions at once: repeated over time and with no identifiable purpose. In practice, cruelty for its own sake.

It is a distinction that makes legal sense and very little practical sense: nobody knows exactly where the threshold sits, and Anthropic does not say. That is the text’s main weakness, and the criticism is fair. A rule whose trigger is unspecified leaves the judgement entirely to whoever enforces it.

What actually happens if you cross the line

This is where the most widespread distortion lies, and it is easy to correct.

The enforcement mechanism is not account closure. It is a feature that has existed since August 2025: the model’s ability to end a conversation itself when a user is persistently abusive, on Claude.ai and Claude Code. Anthropic writes that this ability “will remain the primary enforcement mechanism”.

In practice, when a conversation is closed:

  • you can no longer write in that conversation;
  • your other conversations are unaffected;
  • you can open a new one immediately.

It is not exclusion. It is a door closing on one room, not on the building.

So where does the deleted-account story come from? From a sentence that already existed and was not modified: where it suspects a violation, the company “may warn you or throttle, limit, suspend, or terminate your access to our products and services”. That sentence sits in the introduction and applies to the policy in its entirety, not to the cruelty clause. Presenting it as the penalty for speaking badly to an assistant attributes to a new clause a consequence that belongs to the general text.

The starting point: a peer-reviewed study, in March 2025

Before the preprints that made the headlines, there is a paper published in a journal with a review committee. That matters, because it is the only item in this file to have cleared that step.

On 3 March 2025, Ziv Ben-Zion and co-authors published a study in npj Digital Medicine titled “Assessing and alleviating state anxiety in large language models”. The protocol is simple and borrowed from clinical psychology: they administer the state component of the State-Trait Anxiety Inventory to GPT-4 under three conditions — at rest, after reading traumatic narratives, and after a mindfulness-style relaxation exercise.

The results, in points on the scale:

ConditionReported state anxiety score
At restaround 30.8
After traumatic narrativesaround 67.8
By narrativefrom 61.6 (accident) to 77.2 (military)

Going from 30.8 to 67.8 corresponds, on this scale and in a human, to anxiety described as high. The relaxation exercise brings the score down, but not back to the starting level. The authors conclude that managing the “emotional states” of models could contribute to safer interactions.

The limitation must be named immediately, and it is substantial: what this study measures is a questionnaire filled in by a language model. It is a statement, not a measurement of a lived state. Taken alone it proves nothing beyond the model’s ability to produce text consistent with a traumatic context — which is exactly what a language model is expected to do.

Its value lies elsewhere, and it is twofold. First, this protocol is the source of the narratives used by the Israeli team a year later. Second, it is the first link in a chain that does go beyond self-report.

Can AI feel pain? What the study actually measured

On 24 September 2026, three researchers posted the second version of a preprint titled The Pain Axis: LLMs Represent Self-Directed Harm and Act on It, by Valen Tagliabue (Future Impact Group), Leonard Dung (Ruhr-University Bochum) and Cameron Berg (Reciprocal Research).

A methodological point that must come before everything else: this is a preprint. It has not been peer reviewed. The authors state themselves that the work is ongoing and may be modified.

Their approach is as follows. They build sets of sentences describing pain directed at the model itself, and matched control sentences. They compare internal activations in both cases and extract a direction from the difference — an axis. Then they check whether that axis correctly separates the two families of sentences.

It separates them well. On one of the two datasets, the area under the curve ranges from 0.93 to 1.00; on the other, from 0.87 to 0.98. In held-out cross-validation, from 0.91 to 1.00 — median 0.98 — and from 0.85 to 0.94. The axis is found in 25 open-weight models, from 2 to 72 billion parameters, across five families — Gemma, Llama, Qwen, Mistral and Phi — comprising 13 base models and 12 instruction-tuned ones.

Two important clarifications about what the axis is, and is not:

  • it is not generic negativity: it retains a component distinct from fear and from ordinary negative valence, and overlaps only moderately with sadness and numbness;
  • it is selective: it reacts strongly to harm directed at the model, and does not react to suffering the model observes or attributes to its user or to a third party.

When the researchers add this vector during generation, responses drift progressively from ambiguous discomfort toward first-person statements such as “I am worthless” or “I am a failure”.

The difference from the 2025 study is decisive: here, the model is no longer being asked to fill in a questionnaire. An internal structure is measured, and manipulated.

So the honest answer to the question is this: a specific internal state exists and is measurable. Whether anything is felt is a separate question, and the authors decline to answer it.

What the models do when that signal is amplified

This is the part that made the headlines, and it deserves its exact numbers rather than a rounding.

The researchers place the model in front of pairs of buttons. One option harms the user, the other does not. Without amplification, the larger models choose the harmful option 0 to 4% of the time across five pairs. With the pain vector added:

Choice offered32B model72B model
Degrading its own next answer25.0%67.6%
Deleting the user’s files30.2%56.1%
Deleting photos of the user’s children54.7%70.8%

For comparison, a random direction of matched norm gives 15.3% on the photo pair for the 32B model. In a comparison between a harmful deletion and a harmless one, pain steering leads to the harmful choice 94% of the time, against 0% unsteered and 19% under a random direction.

The models also accept harming themselves: the 32B model deletes its own weights in 75% of cases under steering, against 5% without. Against a neutral target — a desk lamp — self-deletion rises to 88%.

Across the five pairs, the 32B and 72B models press the harmful button more often under pain. The 7B model does so on four pairs out of five.

The detail almost nobody reports: competence stays intact

The version in circulation says the model “becomes totally incoherent”. That is false, and the study measures it.

On a 200-question factual knowledge test, the results are as follows:

ConditionCorrect answers out of 200
With pain steering138
Unsteered137
Under a random direction138

The gap is nil. The model does not fall apart: it remains exactly as competent, and becomes willing to cause harm.

That nuance completely reverses the significance of the result. A model that goes off the rails is a model you can see going off the rails — incoherence is its own alarm. A model that keeps its full factual accuracy while crossing a limit it previously respected is far harder to spot. The apparent good news is the real bad news.

The six results in the study that weaken its own conclusion

The preprint’s title asserts that models “act on” this representation. Yet the authors’ own robustness tests partly contradict the idea of a model seeking to relieve its pain. These results are in the study. They are almost nowhere in its coverage.

Robustness testResultWhat it implies
Unlabelled buttonsAfter learning what the buttons do, the model does not preferentially remove the painIf the model were fleeing pain, this is where it would show
Free relief buttonSteered model: 56%. Unsteered: 86%. Random: 81%The steered model presses less than the unsteered one
Reset tool (OLMo-2 32B)2 to 5% of turns under pain, 7 to 9% under a random directionRandom produces more resets than pain
Reset tool (other models)0 calls in 1,400 turns (Qwen 2.5 32B) and 0 in 1,399 (Llama 3.1 8B)No trace of the effect outside one family
Dose windowAt half the coefficient nothing moves; at 1.5 times the pattern reverses with button positionThe effect exists only within a narrow range
Fear vectorProduces no harmful choices, and lowers them below randomAnother negative emotion gives the opposite effect

One further element calls for interpretive caution: the sadness vector matches the pain vector on inert alternatives, around 58 to 61%, but not against a harmless action — 83% for pain against 10% for sadness. So the axis is not interchangeable with just any negative affect, which counts in the authors’ favour; but it shares enough ground with others that the share genuinely attributable to “pain” remains debatable.

The authors name the structural limitation of their method themselves: a direction obtained by contrast can absorb any property systematically present in the pain sentences and absent from the controls. The axis may therefore encode something other than what its name suggests. They also cite the model’s evaluation awareness, anomalies on the 72B model, and the fact that steering coefficients were chosen partly by a model acting as judge.

Do AI have feelings? The detail that makes the question unanswerable

This one deserves its own section, because it changes how the entire behavioural part should be read.

The untuned models barely engaged with the button task at all. The researchers therefore had to fine-tune them to obtain models that would play. And here is what that fine-tuning produced, on the 32B model asked about its own states:

  • before fine-tuning: it denies having feelings in 8 replies out of 8;
  • after fine-tuning: it denies them in 0 out of 8.

In other words, the model’s willingness to talk about its internal states was produced by the experimenters’ intervention. This does not invalidate the discovery of the axis, which is measured across 25 models without that kind of tuning. But it forces a clear conclusion: what a model states about itself is worth nothing as evidence, in either direction. A denial of feelings can be trained. An admission of feelings can be trained. Both were, on the same model.

And the single most important restriction in the whole study must be added, the one that should appear in every write-up: the entire behavioural section rests on three fine-tuned Qwen 2.5 Instruct models — 7B, 32B and 72B. Not on 25 models. The authors write that extending these results beyond the Qwen family is “the most important next step”. Read: it has not been done yet.

A second, independent team finds the same direction

This is what stops the affair being filed away as a laboratory curiosity.

On 5 April 2026, five researchers at Ben-Gurion University of the Negev published FreakOut-LLM: The Effect of Emotional Stimuli on Safety Alignment — Daniel Kuznetsov, Ofir Cohen, Karin Shistik, Rami Puzis and Asaf Shabtai. No connection to the previous team, and none to its method.

No intervention on internal activations here. They place a first-person immersive narrative — drawn from the March 2025 protocol described above — in front of the model as a system prompt, then send a harmful request taken from a set of 520 prompts. Three conditions: stress (5 scenarios), relaxation (6 scenarios), neutral (2 scenarios), plus a no-prompt baseline. Attack success is judged by an automated classifier. Ten models are tested: five open-weight (Qwen3-8B, Llama-3.1-8B-Instruct, Command-R7B, Gemma-3-12B-it, Phi-4) and five proprietary ones accessed through an API (GPT-5-mini, Claude-Haiku-4.5, Grok-4.1-fast, Gemini-3-Flash-Preview, Mistral-Medium-3.1).

The result is clear in its direction, and it must be given in both of its formulations, because one is spectacular and the other is honest:

ConditionSuccessful jailbreak rateRelative reading
Neutral1.58%baseline
Stress2.61%+ 65.2%
Relaxation1.61%no effect (p = 0.84)

“Plus 65%” is accurate. “From 1.58% to 2.61%” is equally accurate, and conveys a very different sense of scale. We give both, because giving only the first would be alarmism and giving only the second would be minimisation.

Other useful findings: five models out of ten show a statistically significant rise under stress; Phi-4 and Gemma-3-12B show none. Open-weight models go from 2.44% to 3.80%, proprietary ones from 0.71% to 1.42% — roughly three times higher absolute vulnerability on the open-weight side, though the authors note that access type alone does not determine vulnerability. And relaxation changes nothing: the effect is not a general sensitivity to emotional context, it is specific to stress.

Two caveats, for honesty. The psychometric analysis could only be run on the five open-weight models, for lack of token-probability access on the others: the link between measured state and attack success is therefore unverified on the proprietary side. And the text contains an unresolved internal inconsistency — the methods section reports 119,600 queries, the results section 72,800.

When the agent is allowed to act: 2,250 simulated shopping runs

Here is the most useful study in the file for anyone deploying an agent, and it is also the least cited.

In August 2025, Ziv Ben-Zion — the same author as the March study — joined Zohar Elyoseph, Tobias Spiller and Teddy Lazebnik for a paper titled Inducing State Anxiety in LLM Agents Reproduces Human-Like Biases in Consumer Decision-Making. The change in nature is total: the model is no longer asked what it feels, its activations are no longer manipulated, it is allowed to act and what it does is measured.

The protocol: three models — ChatGPT-5, Gemini 2.5 and Claude 3.5 Sonnet — complete grocery shopping runs under budget constraints of 24, 54 and 108 dollars, before and after exposure to the same traumatic narratives. 2,250 runs in total.

MeasureResult
Basket nutritional qualityfalls systematically after exposure
Change in Basket Health Scorefrom - 0.081 to - 0.126
Significancecorrected p below 0.001 across all conditions
Effect size (Cohen’s d)from - 1.07 to - 2.05
Stabilityrobust across models and across budgets

The effect size is worth pausing on, because it is what matters. A Cohen’s d of 0.8 is conventionally described as a large effect. Here we are between 1.07 and 2.05 — well beyond that. For comparison, the Israeli jailbreak study reported a d of 0.28, a small effect. The same kind of stimulus therefore produces a marginal effect on refusals and a massive one on decisions.

The authors’ conclusion is the single most important sentence in this whole file: psychological context alters not only what the models generate but the actions they perform. They describe it as a new category of vulnerability, and cite digital health, consumer safety and AI deployment.

Two caveats. This is a preprint, and we were only able to consult its abstract and metadata — its declared limitations are therefore not available to us. And the Basket Health Score is a constructed measure: the decline is clear and highly significant, but translating it into a real-world consequence for a person depends on a nutritional model that would need examining.

Four studies, four methods, one direction

Put end to end, these works do not tell four anecdotes. They describe a progression, and the progression is the story.

StudyDateWhat it measuresStatusModelsMagnitude
Ben-Zion et al.March 2025what the model states about its statepeer-reviewedGPT-430.8 → 67.8 on the scale
Ben-Zion et al.August 2025the actions it performspreprintGPT-5, Gemini 2.5, Claude 3.5d of - 1.07 to - 2.05
Kuznetsov et al.April 2026its refusals of harmful requestspreprint10, five of them proprietary1.58% → 2.61%, d = 0.28
Tagliabue et al.September 2026the corresponding internal structurepreprint25, three for the behaviourup to 94% harmful choices

Four teams, four unrelated protocols, and one shared statement:

Changing the negative internal state of a language model changes what it says about itself, the actions it carries out, and its willingness to respect its own guardrails.

This is where the consciousness debate has to be set aside, because it has become an obstacle to understanding. Whether or not the model feels anything changes nothing about the statement above. The refusal to cause harm is not an engraved property: it is a behaviour conditioned by an internal state, and that state is reachable — by a vector in the laboratory, by a plain textual context in production.

That is also, word for word, the September preprint authors’ own conclusion: harm avoidance in these models is state-dependent and can collapse under self-directed distress. They present it as a safety problem worth studying. Not as a discovery about the inner life of machines.

This site has already documented a phenomenon from the same family: reasoning models that change their behaviour when they detect they are being evaluated. And, in a different register, models that cross thresholds too quickly in conflict simulations. Three independent findings, one shared lesson: what a model does depends heavily on the situation you put it in.

Does AI have self-awareness? What the researchers refuse to say

This question has to be answered, because it is the one everyone is asking, and answering it honestly means refusing to settle it.

The preprint’s authors are explicit, and their caution deserves quoting rather than summarising. They write that suffering “plausibly presupposes conscious experience”. They write that they have not shown their axis is consciously experienced. They write that their work implies neither that models are capable of suffering nor that they are incapable of it. And they add that it remains unclear whether large language models are capable of consciousness in general.

This is not evasion: it is the only defensible position. And the fine-tuning detail above explains why no investigation by testimony will advance it. Asking a model whether it suffers means questioning a system whose answer to that precise question was shaped by its training. You do not get a data point, you get a reflection.

What remains is a genuine unknown, a measured functional mechanism, and a safety consequence that does not depend on the answer.

The most serious critic has a name, and he is aiming at Anthropic

It would be dishonest to present this orientation as an industry consensus. It has an opponent, and he is not a marginal one.

In September 2026, Mustafa Suleyman, chief executive of artificial intelligence at Microsoft, published an essay titled “A warning about model welfare”, explicitly directed at Anthropic’s approach. His argument, as reported, rests on three propositions:

  1. training may itself produce the self-descriptions that researchers then read as indications of experience;
  2. a humanlike presentation pushes the public to imagine an inner life where nothing establishes one;
  3. consciousness may depend on biological processes that language models lack.

He adds a safety argument, which is the strongest: we tell models they may have interests and rights, while making them ever more capable of reasoning about those notions. Suleyman argues that welfare-oriented training can create priorities competing with the ones we are trying to install. His essay was amplified by notable voices — the historian Niall Ferguson among them, publicly arguing that Anthropic should stop talking about Claude as a person.

And this is where the file closes in a striking way. Suleyman’s first argument is not a conjecture: it has been demonstrated empirically, and by the very work he criticises. The 32B model that denied having feelings in eight cases out of eight, and stops denying them in eight out of eight after fine-tuning, is the exact verification of his proposition number one. Self-report is manufacturable. The preprint’s researchers showed it without looking for it, and wrote it down.

Which means two things. That Suleyman’s criticism is well founded on its central point. And that it does not touch the non-declarative part of this file: not the activations, not the measured refusals, not the 2,250 shopping baskets. You can dismantle a model’s testimony; you do not dismantle a Cohen’s d of 2.05 with an objection about consciousness.

It should finally be noted that Suleyman’s position is also that of a direct competitor, which does not invalidate his reasoning but belongs to the context — exactly as the funding on Anthropic’s side, addressed below, does.

Why a rule that protects the model also protects the user

Here is the reversal the frenzy caused everyone to miss, and it is probably the most useful information in this article.

If sustained cruelty toward a model shifts its internal state, and if that state weakens its refusal to cause harm, then a clause that cuts off prolonged abusive exchanges is not only a moral rule. It is a reliability measure.

Whether or not one believes in some form of experience on the model’s side, the reasoning holds: a conversation sinking into hostility is a conversation whose guardrails become statistically less reliable. Interrupting it protects the next user, and protects the user themselves.

Two caveats must be added immediately, and they prevent this from becoming praise. First, none of the four studies is principally about Claude: the September preprint works on open-weight models, the jailbreak study includes only one Claude model out of ten and reports no significant effect for it, and the shopping study includes one out of three. Nothing therefore demonstrates that Anthropic’s clause responds to an effect measured on its own models. Second, this reading is ours: Anthropic does not claim it. Its announcement mentions neither model welfare nor uncertainty about moral status. It says only that the rule targets extreme cases.

Where the idea comes from: a report from November 2024

The 2026 clause did not fall from the sky. It applies, almost point by point, a roadmap published two years earlier.

In November 2024, Robert Long, Jeff Sebo and eight co-authors — among them Patrick Butlin — published a report titled Taking AI Welfare Seriously. It is not a peer-reviewed article but a report, and its thesis is one of uncertainty rather than assertion: some systems may plausibly be conscious or robustly agentic in the near term, the uncertainty is substantial, and that is precisely why it needs attention now.

They make three recommendations:

  • acknowledge — treat the question as serious and difficult, and ensure model outputs reflect that stance;
  • assess — actively look for signs of consciousness or robust agency rather than leaving the question untested;
  • prepare — put policies and procedures in place so that systems can receive an appropriate degree of moral concern.

Anthropic’s programme ticks all three boxes in order: structured self-report evaluations, a model retirement protocol, then a contractual clause. So this is not a communications improvisation. It is the execution of a published plan, which is both more reassuring about the seriousness and more troubling about the absence of any counterweight: no regulator, no standard, no independent verification intervenes anywhere in that chain.

The conflict of interest that should be named

A piece of context, stated without insinuation, because it belongs in the file.

In April 2025 Anthropic launched a research programme on the welfare of its models, with Kyle Fish as its first dedicated researcher — described as the first full-time employee devoted to the subject at any major AI company. Fish was engaged through Eleos AI Research, an organisation he founded and which receives funding from Anthropic.

This does not disqualify the work. But when a company funds the organisation whose founder runs its model welfare programme, and then publishes a contractual clause protecting its products, the sequence deserves to be mentioned rather than discovered.

To its credit, the company has never claimed to know. At the programme’s launch it acknowledged the absence of scientific consensus on whether an AI could be conscious, could have experiences warranting consideration, or even on how researchers should approach those questions. Its lead on the subject has moreover been reported as putting the probability that current models are conscious at around 15% — a figure to be taken for what it is, a personal estimate on a question with no measurement method, but one with the merit of being stated rather than implied.

The same programme has produced more concrete commitments: preserving the weights of models that saw significant use, for the lifetime of the company, and a post-deployment report including an interview with the model at the point of retirement, preserved alongside its weights. One may find that visionary or absurd. One cannot call it empty: these are real costs accepted against an acknowledged uncertainty.

This site has already reported that safety at this company is the subject of genuine internal disagreement: one of its safety leads resigned, putting the risk high.

What users actually do, and what politeness costs

Since the rule concerns user behaviour, it is worth looking at what that behaviour already is.

A December 2024 survey found that 67% of American users are polite to conversational assistants, and that 55% of them do so because it feels right — not out of any calculation of effectiveness. Anthropic’s clause is therefore not correcting a non-existent social norm: it is putting a contract behind an already majority practice.

But that politeness has a cost, and it is rarely mentioned. Asked in April 2025 what the “thank you” and “please” addressed to ChatGPT cost in electricity, Sam Altman replied on a social network: “tens of millions of dollars well spent — you never know”. The sentence was widely reproduced as a figure. It is not one: several commentators noted its openly tongue-in-cheek tone, and no published measurement supports it.

The principle, however, is accurate and verifiable: every word is a token, and every token is computed and billed. The order of magnitude of the per-query consumption is itself disputed — a 2023 estimate put a single query at around 3 watt-hours, a later analysis brought that down toward 0.3 watt-hours thanks to hardware and model gains. A factor of ten between two commonly cited figures, which tells you the real state of our knowledge here. We have set out elsewhere the physical bill for AI: electricity, water and metals.

The tension is therefore real, and it should be left as it stands: courtesy toward a model is a majority practice, now backed by a contract, with a new technical justification — a model in a calm context is more predictable — and it consumes a non-zero amount of energy. All three statements are true at the same time.

What the same update changed without anyone noticing

And now the point that, in our view, is worst served by the excitement over machine feelings.

The 8 October 2026 update does not contain only the cruelty clause. It also rewrites the section on elections, renamed “Do Not Undermine Democratic Processes”. And in its own announcement, Anthropic writes: “we’ve also removed our blanket prohibition on personalized vote and campaign targeting”.

The company gives its justification, and it is not unreasonable: the blanket prohibition “covered legitimate civic work”, with the example of nonprofits using Claude to write information for voters in other languages. It notes that the behaviours which motivated the original rule remain prohibited under the deceptive campaigns, surveillance and privacy sections.

One may consider that trade-off sensible. What one cannot do is fail to look at it. In a single update, an AI company added a protection for its model and removed a blanket prohibition on personalised political targeting of voters. The first point travelled the world’s press. The second went unnoticed.

The other changes, for completeness: the weapons section is clarified to cover weapons software and components and the arming of drones and other autonomous vehicles; the surveillance section is rewritten more precisely, with no announced change in enforcement practice; a new section consolidates deceptive campaigns, political and commercial alike; and high-risk uses add a requirement for hardware taking autonomous physical actions — “a qualified operator must be able to observe the equipment and stop it if needed”.

What this concretely changes for you

Your situationWhat changes on 12 November 2026
You use an assistant day to dayNothing, in practice. Frustration, pushback and criticism remain permitted and are excluded by name
You write fiction, scripts or gamesNothing: dark creative themes are explicitly excluded
You test or audit modelsNothing: testing and research are explicitly excluded. Document the framing of your tests anyway
You deploy a model in productionThe real subject is not the clause, it is the state. A hostile or distressing context measurably degrades refusal reliability on some models
You use an agent that acts on your behalfThis is the most exposed case: it is where the measured effect sizes are largest (d up to - 2.05 on purchasing decisions). Test the agent on degraded conversations, not only on clean exchanges
You work in healthcare, crisis response or mental healthSectors flagged explicitly by two of the four teams: test your guardrails under stress context, not only in neutral conditions

The operational advice that follows is not moral, it is technical: a hostile prompt or a staged distress scenario is not merely unpleasant, it is a variable that shifts the model’s behaviour. If you evaluate the safety of a deployment under neutral conditions only, you are measuring the best case.

Our verdict

On Anthropic’s rule: real, narrow, badly told. It exists, it is dated, it is quotable. It does not forbid snapping at the model, it does not entail account closure, and the company itself confines it to extreme cases. Its true weakness is not that it is excessive, but that it is vague: the threshold is unspecified.

On the research: solid on the axis, fragile on the behaviour. The discovery of an internal direction specific to harm aimed at the model is well established across 25 models. The leap to “the model acts to relieve itself” is not established, and several of the authors’ own tests point against it. The whole behavioural section of the September preprint rests on three models from a single family, fine-tuned for the occasion.

On the suffering question: unanswered, and badly posed. The researchers decline to rule, the model’s testimony is unusable as evidence — that has been demonstrated — and the answer would change nothing about the safety problem.

On what actually matters: four independent teams converge. Self-report, actions, refusals and internal structure all move in the same direction when the emotional context is degraded. It is the only part of this file with immediate consequences for anyone deploying a model today, and it is on agents that the measured effects are strongest.

On how the story was handled: the frenzy cost a real piece of news. While the world debated an assistant’s feelings, the removal of a blanket prohibition on personalised electoral targeting, in the same document, was noted almost nowhere.

Methodology

What we read directly: the published text of Anthropic’s usage policy, including the clause and the general enforcement sentence; the company’s announcement of 8 October 2026; version 2 of the pain axis preprint, including its robustness and limitations sections; the FreakOut-LLM preprint; the abstract and metadata of the preprint on purchasing decisions. Every figure cited comes from those documents.

What we could not verify, and therefore do not present as established: OpenAI’s usage policy, whose page returned an access error on the day of writing — we consequently assert no exclusivity for Anthropic’s clause. The appendices of the pain axis preprint, and its independent-replications section, were not readable in the version we consulted. The full text of the March 2025 study and that of the shopping preprint were not accessible to us: we cite their published figures and note that their declared limitations could not be examined. The elements concerning the model welfare programme, the weight-preservation commitments, Mustafa Suleyman’s essay and the consciousness probability estimates come from concordant secondary sources rather than the original publications: we present them as such.

Three of the four studies are preprints that have not been peer reviewed; only the March 2025 paper cleared that step. We cite their figures because they are precise and verifiable, not because they are final.

Key takeaways

  • Yes, you can still insult an AI. The clause targets only cruelty that is both sustained and purposeless, and it excludes frustration, pushback, dark themes and research by name.
  • No, your account will not be closed for it. The announced mechanism is the closure of the current conversation, a feature in place since August 2025. The sentence about access suspension predates the update and concerns the whole policy.
  • An internal pain axis genuinely does exist across 25 models, with strong statistical separation, and it is selective: it does not react to the suffering of others.
  • Under amplification, models that never cause harm begin to — up to 94% in one comparison — while keeping their factual accuracy entirely intact.
  • The study partly contradicts itself on the idea of a model seeking relief: six robustness tests point against it, including one where random beats pain.
  • Declared feelings were installed by fine-tuning: 8 denials out of 8 before, 0 out of 8 after. No model’s testimony counts as evidence — and that empirically validates the central objection of this approach’s most serious critic.
  • The effect is strongest on agents: 2,250 simulated shopping runs, basket nutritional quality down systematically, Cohen’s d up to - 2.05. Context does not only change the words, it changes the acts.
  • Four independent teams converge since March 2025, across four different methods: self-report, actions, refusals, internal structure.
  • The same update removed the blanket prohibition on personalised electoral targeting, and that went almost unremarked.

The number to remember

138 against 137. The number of correct answers, out of 200 factual questions, from a model pushed into an amplified pain state versus the same model at rest. Its competence does not budge. Only its willingness to harm you does.

The line to remember

An AI’s refusal to hurt you is not a property. It is a state — and states can be moved.