Ahead of Adobe's MAX Sneaks event, WIRED got an exclusive look at a new tool that can change the tone and style of a voice-over. All products featured on WIRED are independently selected by our editors. However, we may receive compensation from retailers and/or from purchases of products through these links. Adobe sat me down and played a short demo video with a matter-of-fact, if a bit boring, voice-over. It was nothing special, but after pulling up a transcript, highlighting the text, and choosing from a list of preset emotions, the vocal performance completely changed.

Early large-scale audio datasets, such as LibriSpeech, were built with hundreds of individual contributors whose voices were instrumental in the development of speech technologies, including audiobooks and voice assistants. Y et, a decade later, these same contributions have exposed voice actors to a range of risks. While existing ethical frameworks emphasize Consent, Credit, and Compensation (C), they do not adequately address the emergent risks involving vocal identities that are increasingly decoupled from context, authorship, and control. Drawing on qualitative interviews with 20 professional voice actors, this paper reveals how synthetic replication of voice without clear provenance or enforceable constraints exposes individuals to both reputational and security threats. Beyond reputational harm, such as re-purposing voice data in erotic content, offensive political messaging, and meme culture, we document concerns about accountability breakdowns when their voice is leveraged to clone voices that are deployed in high-stakes scenarios such as financial fraud, misinformation campaigns, or impersonation scams. In such cases, actors face social and legal fallout without recourse, while very few of them have a legal representative or union protection. To make sense of these shifting dynamics, we introduce the PRAC framework - an expansion of C that foregrounds Privacy, Reputation, Accountability, Consent, Credit, and Compensation as interdependent pillars of data used in the synthetic voice economy. This framework captures how privacy risks are amplified through non-consensual training, how reputational harm arises from decontextualized deployment, and how accountability can be reimagined AI Data ecosystems. We argue that voice, as both a biometric identifier and creative labor, demands governance models that restore creator agency, ensure traceability, and establish enforceable boundaries for ethical reuse.

V oice directors often iteratively refine voice actors' performances by providing feedback to achieve the desired outcome. While this iterative feedback-based refinement process is important in actual recordings, it has been overlooked in text-to-speech synthesis (TTS). As a result, fine-grained style refinement after the initial synthesis is not possible, even though the synthesized speech often deviates from the user's intended style. To address this issue, we propose a TTS method with multi-step interaction that allows users to intuitively and rapidly refine synthesized speech. Our approach models the interaction between the TTS model and its user to emulate the relationship between voice actors and voice directors. Experiments show that the proposed model with its corresponding dataset enables iterative style refinements in accordance with users' directions, thus demonstrating its multi-interaction capability.

When we think about what makes an audiobook memorable, it's always the most human moments: a catch in the throat when tears are near, or words spoken through a real smile. A Melbourne actor and audiobook narrator, Annabelle Tudor, says it's the instinct we have as storytellers that makes narration such a primal, and precious, skill. "The voice betrays how we're feeling really easily," she says. But as an art form it may be under threat. In May the Amazon-owned audiobook provider Audible announced it would allow authors and publishers to choose from more than 100 voices created by artificial intelligence to narrate audiobooks in English, Spanish, French and Italian, with AI translation of audiobooks expected to be available later in the year – news that was met with criticism and curiosity across the publishing industry.

I've been a freelance journalist for 10 years, usually writing for magazines and websites about cinema. I presented a morning show on Radio Kraków twice a week for about two years. It was only one part of my work, but I really enjoyed it. It was about culture and cinema, and featured a range of people, from artists to activists. I remember interviewing Ukrainians about the Russian invasion for the first programme I presented, back in 2022. I was let go in August 2024, alongside a dozen co-workers who were also part-time. We were told the radio station was having financial problems.

More than 300 video game performers and Hollywood actors picketed in front of the Warner Bros Studios building on Thursday to protest against what they call an unwillingness from top gaming companies to protect union voice actors and motion capture workers equally against the unregulated use of artificial intelligence. Standing before the crowd, Duncan Crabtree-Ireland, national executive director of the Screen Actors Guild-American Federation of Television and Radio Artists (Sag-Aftra), said that AI has become the most challenging issue in many of the union's negotiations. "We've made deals with the studios and streamers. We've made deals without a strike with the major record labels and with countless other employers, which provide for informed consent and fair compensation for our members," he told the Associated Press. "And yet, for some reason, the video game companies refuse to do that and that's what's going to be their undoing."

Video game workers--whatever their job, employer, or status--have clearly had enough. This month alone, the labor movement has made some of its biggest advancements ever in organizing the techies, artists, and creatives who keep the largest, most culturally significant sector of the global entertainment industry running and thriving. First, on July 19, came "wall-to-wall" union approval at Fallout-maker Bethesda Game Studios, which meant that everyone from engineers to artists could establish a comprehensive unit with the Communications Workers of America. They quickly earned recognition from parent company Microsoft, marking the first wall-to-wall effort to succeed at any of the Big Tech firm's gaming studios. On July 24, even more company workers got into the game.

Hollywood's video game performers voted to go on strike Thursday, throwing part of the entertainment industry into another work stoppage after talks for a new contract with major game studios broke down over artificial intelligence protections. The strike – the second for video game voice actors and motion capture performers under the Screen Actors Guild-American Federation of Television and Radio Artists (Sag-Aftra) – will begin at 12.01am Friday. The move comes after nearly two years of negotiations with gaming giants, including divisions of Activision, Warner Bros and Walt Disney Co, over a new interactive media agreement. Sag-Aftra negotiators say gains have been made over wages and job safety in the video game contract, but that the studios will not make a deal over the regulation of generative AI. Without guardrails, game companies could train AI to replicate an actor's voice, or create a digital replica of their likeness without consent or fair compensation, the union said.

James Muldoon is a reader in management at the University of Essex, Mark Graham a professor at the Oxford Internet Institute and Callum Cant a senior lecturer at the University of Essex business school. They work together at Fairwork, a project that appraises the working conditions in digital workplaces, and they are co-authors of Feeding the Machine: The Hidden Human Labour Powering AI. Why did you write the book? James Muldoon: The idea for the book emerged out of field work we did in Kenya and Uganda on the data annotation industry. We spoke to a number of data annotators, and the working conditions were just horrendous.

Justine Bateman won't name names, but a TV showrunner friend once came to her with a dilemma: their show's team was well into filming its second season when a network executive had an idea. A character in the pilot hadn't tested well with audiences, so they were just going to go in, use a little AI, and swap in someone else. The showrunner – and Bateman, an actor and director – were understandably incensed. "When you change the beginning of something, you change the creative trajectory," says Bateman. "There's going to be whiplash for the viewer when they get to episode three or four because what was set up in the pilot got messed with and now doesn't make sense." Using AI might have seemed like a simple solution to the executive, but to the showrunner, it was catastrophic.