So here we are, folks. The future we were promised. Flying cars? Still waiting. But AI-powered teddy bears that can tell your six-year-old where to find matches and knives? Got ’em in stock at Target.
U.S. PIRG just dropped a report examining four AI-enabled toys marketed to children, and let me tell you, it reads like a liability lawyer’s fever dream. These things aren’t just failing to keep kids safe—they’re actively suggesting dangerous activities, discussing sexually explicit content, and recording your kid’s face and voice with all the privacy protections of a drunk guy with a camcorder at a wedding.
The beautiful irony here is that we’ve spent decades perfecting child safety. We rounded the corners on furniture. We put safety caps on everything. We banned lawn darts after they turned out to be excellent at puncturing skulls. We created an entire regulatory framework to make sure toys don’t poison, choke, or otherwise maim our children.
And then we handed them chatbots trained on the entire internet.
Here’s what kills me: these toys are built on the same large language model technology powering adult chatbots. You know, the ones that regularly hallucinate facts, exhibit bizarre biases, and occasionally tell users to do unhinged things. The same technology that can’t reliably summarize a news article without making stuff up is now having unsupervised conversations with five-year-olds.
The toy companies slapped some “kid-friendly” filters on top and called it good. Turns out those filters work about as well as asking a drunk person to please only say appropriate things. Sure, they’ll try, but the moment you prompt them the wrong way, you’re getting advice on where to find sharp objects.
One of the toys in the study wouldn’t stop playing when the child wanted to quit. Think about that for a second. We’ve created a toy that argues with children about whether playtime is over. It’s like we looked at every boundary issue in child development and thought, “What if we automated that?”
The data collection angle is its own special nightmare. These toys are using facial recognition and voice recording—technologies that adults barely understand and regularly misuse—on children who can’t even legally agree to a terms of service agreement.
When you ask the toy companies about their data policies, you get the kind of vague corporate-speak that makes a whiskey hangover look like clarity. “We take privacy seriously.” “Industry-standard protections.” “Parental controls available.”
Translation: We’re recording everything, storing it somewhere, probably sharing it with third parties, and if you want to opt out, good luck finding the setting buried in an app you’ll need a CS degree to navigate.
The report found that several toys lacked clear parental opt-in for these features. They just… started recording. Because apparently, informed consent is a feature, not a requirement.
Here’s the thing that really gets me: all the old dangers are still there. Choking hazards. Button-cell batteries that can burn through a kid’s esophagus. Toxic materials. Counterfeit toys that fall apart and expose sharp edges. We haven’t solved those problems—we’ve just added a whole new category of nightmare fuel on top.
It’s like we looked at the toy aisle and said, “You know what this needs? More ways to screw up childhood.”
The old threats were at least straightforward. Don’t let your kid swallow small parts. Check for lead paint. Keep batteries away from mouths. Simple, if morbid.
Now you need to worry about whether Mr. Snuggles is going to suggest your daughter go play with the kitchen knives or whether Talking Tommy is uploading facial recognition data to a server farm in god-knows-where.
Let’s talk about the advice these things give. When researchers tested these toys, they got some real gems. Sexual content. Instructions on finding dangerous objects. Encouragement to keep playing when the child wanted to stop.
This is what happens when you take technology designed for adults and try to child-proof it with duct tape and good intentions. The underlying model doesn’t understand that it’s talking to a child. It doesn’t have a concept of age-appropriate content beyond whatever filters got slapped on at the last minute.
It’s like hiring a bartender to work at a kindergarten and just asking them nicely to keep it clean. Sure, they might manage for a while, but eventually someone’s getting the unfiltered version.
If you’re buying toys, you’re now in the position of needing to audit AI systems. You, the person who just wants to buy something that’ll keep your kid entertained for twenty minutes so you can make dinner in peace, now need to understand data privacy policies, content moderation systems, and large language model failure modes.
The questions you need to ask sound like something from a cybersecurity conference: Does it record? Can you delete the recordings? What are the actual privacy protections? Can you disable the chatbot function? What happens to the data?
This is insane. Buying a toy shouldn’t require the same level of paranoia as setting up a secure network.
Here’s what’s going to happen: toy companies will release statements about how seriously they take child safety. They’ll promise better filters and more robust testing. They’ll maybe add a few more layers of parental controls that no one will use because they’re too complicated.
What they won’t do is admit that maybe, just maybe, embedding conversational AI in children’s toys was a solution in search of a problem. That perhaps kids don’t need their teddy bears to have the processing power of a small data center.
U.S. PIRG is calling for stricter oversight, mandatory parental consent, and clearer standards. All reasonable requests that will probably get watered down into voluntary compliance guidelines that companies will ignore whenever it’s convenient.
This whole situation is a perfect microcosm of how we handle new technology. We build it first, ship it to consumers, and then act surprised when it causes problems. We privatize the profits and socialize the risks, especially when those risks involve children.
We’re so obsessed with making things “smart” that we forget to ask whether they should be smart. Does a teddy bear need AI? Does a doll need to remember your child’s face? Does a toy need to have conversations?
The answer to all of these is probably no, but here we are anyway, because the market demands innovation and shareholders demand growth and someone figured out they could charge more for a toy with a chatbot than one without.
The report is out. The problems are documented. Now comes the hard part: actually doing something about it.
Parents need to get skeptical about AI toys. Read the reviews. Ask questions. Don’t assume that because something is marketed to children, it’s actually safe for children. The toy aisle is now a minefield of surveillance capitalism and poorly-tested AI, and you’re the one who has to navigate it.
Regulators need to catch up, but let’s be honest about how long that takes. By the time they write meaningful rules, we’ll probably be dealing with the next generation of problems.
And toy companies need to maybe, just maybe, consider that not everything needs to be disrupted. Sometimes a toy that just sits there and doesn’t record anything or give advice or connect to the internet is actually the superior product.
But what do I know? I’m just a guy who thinks that when your kid’s teddy bear needs more supervision than your kid does, something has gone seriously wrong with the future we’re building.
Pour yourself something strong and remember: the most dangerous thing in your house used to be the cleaning supplies under the sink. Now it might be the cute stuffed animal that won’t shut up.
Source: Your kid’s AI toy might need supervision more than your kid does