When Zeus, a medical student living in a hilltop city in central Nigeria, returns to his studio apartment from a long day at the hospital, he turns on his ring light, straps his iPhone to his forehead, and starts recording himself. He raises his hands in front of him like a sleepwalker and puts a sheet on his bed. He moves slowly and carefully to make sure his hands stay within the camera frame. 

Zeus is a data recorder for Micro1, a US company based in Palo Alto, California that collects real-world data to sell to robotics companies. As companies like Tesla, Figure AI, and Agility Robotics race to build humanoids—robots designed to resemble and move like humans in factories and homes—videos recorded by gig workers like Zeus are becoming the hottest new way to train them. 

Micro1 has hired thousands of contract workers in more than 50 countries, including India, Nigeria, and Argentina, where swathes of tech-savvy young people are looking for jobs. They’re mounting iPhones on their heads and recording themselves folding laundry, washing dishes, and cooking. The job pays well by local standards and is boosting local economies, but it raises thorny questions around privacy and informed consent. And the work can be challenging at times—and weird.

Zeus found the job in November, when people started talking about it everywhere on LinkedIn and YouTube. “This would be a real nice opportunity to set a mark and give data that will be used to train robots in the future,” he thought. 

Zeus is paid $15 an hour, which is good income in Nigeria’s strained economy with high unemployment rates. But as a bright-eyed student dreaming of becoming a doctor, he finds ironing his clothes for hours every day boring. 

“I really [do] not like it so much,” he says. “I’m the kind of person that requires … a technical job that requires me to think.” 

Zeus, and all the workers interviewed by MIT Technology Review, asked to be referred to only by pseudonyms because they were not authorized to talk about their work.

Humanoid robots are notoriously hard to build because manipulating physical objects is a difficult skill to master. But the rise of large language models underlying chatbots like ChatGPT has inspired a paradigm shift in robotics. Just as large language models learned to generate words by being trained on vast troves of text scraped from the internet, many researchers believe that humanoid robots can learn to interact with the world by being trained on massive amounts of movement data. 

Editor’s note: In a recent poll, MIT Technology Review readers selected humanoid robots as the 11th breakthrough for our 2026 list of 10 Breakthrough Technologies.

Robotics requires far more complex data about the physical world, though, and that is much harder to find. Virtual simulations can train robots to perform acrobatics, but not how to grasp and move objects, because simulations struggle to model physics with perfect accuracy. For robots to work in factories and serve as housekeepers, real-world data, however time-consuming and expensive to collect, may be what we need. 

Investors are pouring money feverishly into solving this challenge, spending over $6 billion on humanoid robots in 2025. And at-home data recording is becoming a booming gig economy around the world. Data companies like Scale AI and Encord are recruiting their own armies of data recorders, while DoorDash pays delivery drivers to film themselves doing chores. And in China, workers in dozens of state-owned robot training centers wear virtual-reality headsets and exoskeletons to teach humanoid robots how to open a microwave and wipe down the table. 

“There is a lot of demand, and it’s increasing really fast,” says Ali Ansari, CEO of Micro1. He estimates that robotics companies are now spending more than $100 million each year to buy real-world data from his company and others like it.

A day in the life

Workers at Micro1 are vetted by an AI agent named Zara that conducts interviews and reviews samples of chore videos. Every week, they submit videos of themselves doing chores around their homes, following a list of instructions about things like keeping their hands visible and moving at natural speed. The videos are reviewed by both AI and a human and are either accepted or rejected. They’re then annotated by AI and a team of hundreds of humans who label the actions in the footage.

Because this approach to training robots is in its infancy, it’s not clear yet what makes good training data. Still, “you need to give lots and lots of variations for the robot to generalize well for basic navigation and manipulation of the world,” says Ansari.

But many workers say that creating a variety of “chore content” in their tiny homes is a challenge. Zeus, a scrappy student living in a humble studio, struggles to record anything beyond ironing his clothes every day. Arjun, a tutor in Delhi, India, takes an hour to make a 15-minute video because he spends so much time brainstorming new chores.

“How much content [can be made] in the home? How much content?” he says. 

There’s also the sticky question of privacy. Micro1 asks workers not to show their faces to the camera or reveal personal information such as names, phone numbers, and birth dates. Then it uses AI and human reviewers to remove anything that slips through. 

But even without faces, the videos capture an intimate slice of workers’ lives: the interiors of their homes, their possessions, their routines. And understanding what kind of personal information they might be recording while they’re busy doing chores on camera can be tricky. Reviews of such footage might not filter out sensitive information beyond the most obvious identifiers.

For workers with families, keeping private life off camera is a constant negotiation. Arjun, a father of two daughters, has to wrangle his chaotic two-year-old out of frame. “Sometimes it’s very difficult to work because my daughter is small,” he says. 

Sasha, a banker turned data recorder in Nigeria, tiptoes around when she hangs her laundry outside in a shared residential compound so she won’t record her neighbors, who watch her in bewilderment.

While the workers interviewed by MIT Technology Review understand that their data is being used to train robots, none of them know how exactly their data will be used, stored, and shared with third parties, including the robotics companies that Micro1 is selling the data to. For confidentiality reasons, says Ansari, Micro1 doesn’t name its clients or disclose to workers the specific nature of the projects they are contributing to.

“It is important that if workers are engaging in this, that they are informed by the companies themselves of the intention … where this kind of technology might go and how that might affect them longer term,” says Yasmine Kotturi, a professor of human-centered computing at the University of Maryland.

Occasionally, some workers say, they’ve seen other workers asking on the company Slack channel if the company could delete their data. Micro1 declined to comment on whether such data is deleted.

“People are opting into doing this,” says Ansari. “They could stop the work at any time.”

Hungry for data

With thousands of workers doing their chores differently in different homes, some roboticists wonder if the data collected from them is reliable enough to train robots safely. 

“How we conduct our lives in our homes is not always right from a safety point of view,” says Aaron Prather, a roboticist at ASTM International. “If those folks are teaching those bad habits that could lead to an incident, then that’s not good data.” And the sheer volume of data being collected makes reviewing it for quality control challenging. But Ansari says the company rejects videos showing unsafe ways of performing a task, while clumsy movements can be useful to teach robots what not to do.

Then there’s the question of how much of this data we need. Micro1 says it has tens of thousands of hours of footage, while Scale AI announced it had gathered more than 100,000 hours.

“It’s going to take a long time to get there,” says Ken Goldberg, a roboticist at the University of California, Berkeley. Large language models were trained on text and images that would take a human 100,000 years to read, and humanoid robots may need even more data, because controlling robotic joints is even more complicated than generating text. “It’s going to take longer than people think,” he says.

When Dattu, an engineering student living in a bustling tech hub in India, comes home after a full day of classes at his university, he skips dinner and dashes to his tiny balcony, cramped with potted plants and dumbbells. He straps his iPhone to his forehead and records himself folding the same set of clothes over and over again. 

His family stares at him quizzically. “It’s like some space technology for them,” he says. When he tells his friends about his job, “they just get astounded by the idea that they can get paid by recording chores.”

Juggling his university studies with data recording, as well as other data annotation gigs, takes a toll on him. Still, “it feels like you’re doing something different than the whole world,” he says. 

AI is at war. Anthropic and the Pentagon feuded over how to weaponize Anthropic’s AI model Claude; then OpenAI swept the Pentagon off its feet with an “opportunistic and sloppy” deal. Users quit ChatGPT in droves. People marched through London in the biggest protest against AI to date. If you’re keeping score, Anthropic—the company founded to be ethical—is now turbocharging US strikes on Iran. 

On the lighter side, AI agents are now going viral online. OpenAI hired the creator of OpenClaw, a popular AI agent. Meta snapped up Moltbook, where AI agents seem to ponder their own existence and invent new religions like Crustafarianism. And on RentAHuman, bots are hiring people to deliver CBD gummies. The future isn’t AI taking your job. It’s AI becoming your boss and finding God.

The ongoing public feud between the Department of Defense and the AI company Anthropic has raised a deep and still unanswered question: Does the law actually allow the US government to conduct mass surveillance on Americans?

Surprisingly, the answer is not straightforward. More than a decade after Edward Snowden exposed the NSA’s collection of bulk metadata from the phones of Americans, the US is still navigating a gap between what ordinary people think and what the law allows. 

The flashpoint in the standoff between Anthropic and the government was the Pentagon’s desire to use Anthropic’s AI Claude to analyze bulk commercial data on Americans. Anthropic demanded that its AI not be used for mass domestic surveillance (or for autonomous weapons, which are machines that can kill targets without human oversight). A week after negotiations broke down, the Pentagon designated Anthropic a supply chain risk, a label typically reserved for foreign companies that pose a threat to national security. 

Meanwhile, OpenAI, the rival AI company behind ChatGPT, sealed a deal that allowed the Pentagon to use its AI for “all lawful purposes”—language that critics say left the door open to domestic surveillance. Over the following weekend, users uninstalled ChatGPT in droves. Protesters chalked messages around OpenAI’s headquarters in San Francisco: “What are your redlines?” 

OpenAI announced on Monday that it had reworked its deal to make sure that its AI will not be used for domestic surveillance. The company added that its services will not be used by intelligence agencies, such as the NSA. 

CEO Sam Altman suggested that existing law prohibits domestic surveillance by the Department of Defense (now sometimes called the Department of War) and that OpenAI’s contract simply needed to reference this law. “The DoW agrees with these principles, reflects them in law and policy, and we put them into our agreement,” he wrote on X. Anthropic CEO Dario Amodei argued the opposite. “To the extent that such surveillance is currently legal, this is only because the law has not yet caught up with the rapidly growing capabilities of AI,” he wrote in a policy statement. 

So, who is right? Does the law allow the Pentagon to surveil Americans using AI?

Supercharged surveillance

The answer depends on what we think counts as surveillance. “A lot of stuff that normal people would consider a search or surveillance … is not actually considered a search or surveillance by the law,” says Alan Rozenshtein, a law professor at the University of Minnesota Law School. That means public information—such as social media posts, surveillance camera footage, and voter registration records—is fair game. So is information on Americans picked up incidentally from surveillance of foreign nationals. 

Most notably, the government can purchase commercial data from companies, which can include sensitive personal information like mobile location and web browsing records. In recent years, agencies from ICE and IRS to the FBI and NSA have increasingly tapped into this data marketplace, fueled by an internet economy that harvests user data for advertising. These data sets can let the government access information that might not be available without a warrant or subpoena, which are normally required to obtain sensitive personal data.

“There’s a huge amount of information that the government can collect on Americans that is not itself regulated either by the Constitution, which is the Fourth Amendment, or statute,” says Rozenshtein. And there aren’t meaningful limits on what the government can do with all this data. 

That’s because until the last several decades, people weren’t generating massive clouds of data that opened up new possibilities for surveillance. The Fourth Amendment, which protects against unreasonable search and seizure, was written when collecting information meant entering people’s homes. 

Subsequent laws, like the Foreign Intelligence Surveillance Act of 1978 or the Electronic Communications Privacy Act of 1986, were passed when surveillance involved wiretapping phone calls and intercepting emails. The bulk of laws governing surveillance were on the books before the internet took off. We weren’t generating vast trails of online data, and the government didn’t have sophisticated tools to analyze the data. 

Now we do, and AI supercharges what kind of surveillance can be carried out. “What AI can do is it can take a lot of information, none of which is by itself sensitive, and therefore none of which by itself is regulated, and it can give the government a lot of powers that the government didn’t have before,” says Rozenshtein. 

AI can aggregate individual pieces of information to spot patterns, draw inferences, and build detailed profiles of people—at massive scale. And as long as the government collects the information lawfully, it can do whatever it wants with that information, including feeding it to AI systems. “The law has not caught up with technological reality,” says Rozenshtein.

While surveillance can raise serious privacy concerns, the Pentagon can have legitimate national security interests in collecting and analyzing data on Americans. “In order to collect information on Americans, it has to be for a very specific subset of missions,” says Loren Voss, a former military intelligence officer at the Pentagon. 

For example, a counterintelligence mission might require information about an American who is working for a foreign country, or plotting to engage in international terrorist activities. But targeted intelligence can sometimes stretch into collecting more data. “This kind of collection does make people nervous,” says Voss. 

Lawful use

OpenAI has amended its contract to say that the company’s AI system “shall not be intentionally used for domestic surveillance of U.S. persons and nationals,” in line with relevant laws. The amendment clarifies that this prohibits “deliberate tracking, surveillance or monitoring of U.S. persons or nationals, including through the procurement or use of commercially acquired personal or identifiable information.”

But the added language might not do much to override the clause that the Pentagon may use the company’s AI system for all lawful purposes, which could include collecting and analyzing sensitive personal information. “OpenAI can say whatever it wants in its agreement … but the Pentagon’s gonna use the tech for what it perceives to be lawful,” says Jessica Tillipman, a law professor at the George Washington University Law School. That could include domestic surveillance. “Most of the time, companies are not going to be able to stop the Pentagon from doing anything,” she says.

The language also leaves open questions about “inadvertent” surveillance, and the surveillance of foreign nationals or undocumented immigrants living in the US. “What happens when there’s a disagreement about what the law is, or when the law changes?” says Tillipman.

OpenAI did not respond to a request for comment. The company has not publicly shared the full text of its new contract. 

Beyond the contract, OpenAI says that it will impose technical safeguards to enforce its red line against surveillance, including a “safety stack” that monitors and blocks prohibited uses. The company also says it will deploy its own employees to work with the Pentagon and remain in the loop. But it’s unclear how a safety stack would constrain the Pentagon’s use of the AI, and to what extent OpenAI’s employees would have visibility into how its AI systems are used. More important, it’s unclear whether the contract gives OpenAI the power to block a legal use of the technology. 

But that might not be a bad thing. Giving an AI company power to pull the plug on its technology in the middle of government operations also carries its own risks. “You wouldn’t want the US military to ever be in a situation where they legitimately needed to take actions to protect this country’s national security, and you had a private company turn off technology,” says Voss. But that doesn’t mean there shouldn’t be hard lines drawn by Congress, she says.

None of these questions are simple. They involve brutally difficult trade-offs between privacy and national security. And that’s why perhaps they should be decided by the public—not in backroom negotiations between the executive branch and a handful of AI companies. For now, military AI is being regulated by contracts, not legislation. 

Some lawmakers are starting to weigh in. On Monday, Senator Ron Wyden of Oregon will seek bipartisan support for legislation addressing mass surveillance. He has championed bills restricting the government’s purchase of commercial data, including the Fourth Amendment Is Not For Sale Act, which was first introduced in 2021 but has not been passed into law. “Creating AI profiles of Americans based on that data represents a chilling expansion of mass surveillance that should not be allowed,” he said in a recent statement.