When I talk to my son, an engineering student, and we have a question or disagreement, he immediately turns to ChatGPT as his primary source of information and confirmation.

He is not alone in this. The use of generative AI tools has exploded across different demographic groups. For many people, these tools can be entertaining, informative and beneficial. However, they also have a dark side.

Generative AI is not formally recognised as addictive right now – the medical evidence is still being gathered. But there is a significant amount of data showing heavy use of chatbots and other systems that produce text, images and video leads to neural patterns and behaviour that are associated with addiction.

In light of Meta’s and YouTube’s recent legal defeat in a landmark social media addiction trial, I believe it’s time to ask whether a similar logic applies to generative AI – and how it could be addressed. The starting point would be to identify who carries responsibility for overuse of generative AI.

The science on this is not settled, and there are some who counsel caution when using the term addiction. They propose the use of other expressions such as “problematic use”. However, in a recent paper, our team of researchers suggest there is strong evidence to suggest that generative AI has addictive properties.

Much-discussed examples include emotional dependency on chatbot companions, compulsive engagement with them, and the loss of real-world acquaintances and friends.

A key factor here is that, as in all cases of addiction, the behaviour has negative consequences for the user which may affect both their personal and professional lives.

If we follow the argument that generative AI is a candidate for addictive behaviour, then we also need to look at responsibility. Societies tend to find ways to deal with harm by holding people or groups responsible for fixing it. Those who could be accountable include legislators, regulators, industry and health systems.

Historical examples

Historical precedents such as smoking might offer insights into how the area of generative AI addiction could evolve.

Older readers may remember when the Marlboro Man would appear before any feature movie in their local cinemas. It eventually transpired that not only was smoking addictive and bad for your health, but that tobacco companies knew this. Nevertheless, it was publicly denied.

This led to lengthy and high-profile litigation, eventually resulting in large-scale financial payouts and changes to the industry. These changes included the plain packaging of tobacco products and gruesome warning labels on them.

Gambling could be following a similar trajectory – and now social media companies may be taking their first steps into a similar process.

A key question is whether the makers of a product – be it tobacco, gambling or social media – are aware of its addictive properties. Another important factor being considered is whether certain companies may even use the allegedly addictive properties of their products for corporate advantage.

AI is not tobacco, of course, but there may be parallels to be studied.

In our research, we have identified four groups of stakeholders that are now being called upon to address the challenges linked to the possibility of addiction to generative AI.

The first is governments and regulators. These have a key role to play in highlighting the problems, setting the rules of engagement, and creating incentives for other parties to engage with the topic.

They can do this by requiring labelling, restricting advertising, applying liability law and providing research funding – along with many other mechanisms.

But the most important role in addressing potential addictive behaviour associated with generative AI would be held by big tech companies that develop and own these technologies – and stand to benefit financially from them.

These companies own and have access to user data, which would be needed to ascertain the features that support or alleviate addiction. They are also the parties that would benefit financially from addiction by increasing user numbers and engagement, the main currency of the digital age.

In addition to these two groups, academic researchers have an important role in collecting and interpreting data, and providing the evidence needed to recognise addiction and addictive features – in ways that allow for evidence-based political or legal debate.

Finally, civil society organisations such as user or patient groups can help by providing support, advocating for members’ interests, and establishing early-warning structures.

The point is that none of these interested parties can address the problem on their own. They need to collaborate.

Someone else’s problem

A key problem at the moment is the lack of structured debate about responsibilities – everybody assumes it is someone else’s problem. But there is ample precedent showing how greater engagement from those involved with the issue may be achieved.

With tobacco, the World Health Organization (WHO) formed the Framework Convention on Tobacco Control – a treaty-based mechanism that brought together governments, public health bodies, researchers and civil society to evaluate evidence and draw up common rules. The International AI Safety Report shows comparable international consensus-building activities are already happening in other aspects of AI.

Some responsibility also falls on the users of AI, who should try to avoid or control their own potentially harmful behaviour. But appeals to individual moderation or mindfulness have been shown with other addictions to be insufficient.

While the harms associated with smoking or alcohol misuse are well known, society still relies on age limits, packaging rules and advertising restrictions. Generative AI is being integrated into the everyday fabric of our society. The choices we now make will determine what acceptable use looks like for years to come.

Bernd Stahl does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.

Europe’s wind turbines have become part of a wider struggle over energy security, industrial power and the west’s dependence on China.

European wind power capacity has surged dramatically in recent years. Wind energy now supplies 17% of EU electricity up from 13% in 2019. Offshore wind has expanded particularly rapidly, with installed capacity growing strongly over the past decade.

But Brussels wants renewables to provide at least 42.5% of the EU’s total energy mix by 2030. Wind is “pivotal” to this strategy, according to the European Commission’s wind power action plan. The challenge for Europe is to meet its 2030 target, it needs to build 33 gigawatts (GW) of new wind turbines annually.

So far, data from 2022, 2023 and 2024 indicates that Europe has averaged only around 16-19 GW of new installations per year. This leaves a significant gap between Europe’s target and its implementation.

Across the Atlantic, the picture is just as uncertain. The US Inflation Reduction Act introduced during Joe Biden’s presidency promised a surge in renewable energy investment, including wind. But growing political opposition to turbines, especially from Donald Trump and his political allies, has cast doubt over how far that momentum can go.

Cheap turbines and fast delivery

Europe’s installation shortfall and the US’s retreat from wind energy create a strategic opening for China. Chinese manufacturers dominate the global wind industry, with six of the top ten turbine makers and producing over 70% of the world’s new wind turbines in 2024. Companies like Goldwind, Envision and Mingyang offer turbines that are 30-40% cheaper than western equivalents and promise faster delivery.

This puts the west in a bind: accept Chinese help to meet climate targets quickly and cheaply, or reject it and risk falling further behind.

Europe could certainly rely on Chinese wind power to close its gap in renewable energy. The same could be said about the US, although its desire to push forward with wind power is not clear. US wind deployment fell to 5.2 GW in 2024, the lowest level in a decade, and turbine orders dropped 50% in the first half of 2025.

However, allowing Chinese firms greater market access creates a real policy dilemma. While purchases of Chinese turbines would speed up Europe’s energy transition and is cost effective, the EU sees China as an economic rival and security risk that potentially undermines the union’s industrial and strategic autonomy.

The US appetite for Chinese wind tech is much lower than Europe’s. Aside from permit delays, grid connection bottlenecks and rising costs, Trump’s return to office in 2025 is an important factor in the US’s renewable slowdown. The US president has publicly labelled wind power “a joke”, and has frozen federal permits for offshore and onshore wind projects, in addition to eliminating renewable energy tax credits.

But that’s not all. Washington views China’s dominance in wind turbine technology as a security threat requiring protectionist barriers, and has effectively blocked Chinese wind technology through various measures. This includes national security probes into wind turbine imports, 50% tariffs on wind turbines and parts, and tax credit restrictions that bar companies using Chinese-manufactured components from accessing federal clean energy incentives.

Western tariffs haven’t slowed China’s wind industry but have redirected it. Chinese wind turbine exports surged 50% in 2025. By the end of 2025, cumulative exports had exceeded 28 GW, a thirteenfold increase from 2015. Chinese manufacturers are now selling wind turbines to more than 60 countries, and have established production or research operations in more than 20.

Targeting new markets

The pattern is clear: China is targeting developing markets where western competition is weak and renewable energy demand is surging. The biggest purchasers of turbines from China in 2024 were Saudi Arabia, Uzbekistan, Brazil, Egypt and Kazakhstan. All are participants in China’s economic development plan, the Belt and Road Initiative.

But China’s wind momentum shows no signs of slowing. Pakistan, Indonesia, Vietnam, Saudi Arabia and Malaysia are expected to add 120 GW of wind and solar capacity over the next decade, requiring US$73 billion (£53.5 billion) in investment. Chinese firms already captured over 60% of renewable energy capacity in these markets since 2024, and is set to expand further.

While China’s wind turbine sales to the US and Europe may be uncertain, Beijing has secured a different prize. Since 2013, Chinese companies have installed 156 GW of power capacity across Belt and Road Initiative countries, 70% in Asia and 15% in Africa.

The west may be protecting its own energy independence, but may also be handing the control of Africa and Latin America’s energy future and security to China, if things don’t change.

Chee Meng Tan does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.