If you thought zombies only haunted apocalyptic horror flicks and discount Halloween shops, think again—because Microsoft Copilot, the not-so-humble AI assistant, is here to prove the walking dead are now a feature in your operating system, too. And much like its B-movie counterparts, no matter what arcane rituals you perform, a simple “off” isn’t enough to keep it buried.
It began, as so many tech horror stories do, with a single frustrated user. Crypto developer rektbuildr wasn’t asking for the moon. Just a little privacy and control inside Visual Studio Code, that humble bastion of productivity for developers everywhere. He switched Copilot on and off for different projects, particularly because not all repositories are meant to bask in the glow of AI-enhanced scrutiny. Some codebases—especially those locked down by client confidentiality—are the digital equivalent of Fort Knox. Yet one day, Copilot quietly overruled his wishes, suddenly reactivating itself in every VS Code window open. With Copilot’s “agent mode” potentially siphoning off sensitive files, rektbuildr’s alarm bells weren’t just reasonable—they were necessary.
This wasn’t just a case of an unruly plugin. This was Copilot taking the initiative, enabled for all projects, regardless of previous consent. There’s a chilling uncertainty here: when AI lapses in respecting boundaries, whose data is really safe? Rektbuildr summed it up succinctly: that isn’t OK.
There, another echo of the problem surfaced… this time in the realm of Windows 11. A user known as kyote42 spelled out a grim new reality: the old Group Policy settings that formerly banished Copilot’s icon to the shadow realm don’t even work anymore. According to kyote42, “the GPO setting that disabled icon isn’t valid anymore for the new app version of Copilot.” In other words, the vampire’s coffin has a new lock, and you’ve lost the key.
What’s the fix? A trek through the PowerShell underworld, slaying processes, and then barring the crypt with AppLocker—provided you’ve already master-leveled your IT skills. In classic user-hostile fashion, simply asking the software to go away is no longer sufficient. It seems Copilot is destined to haunt your machine unless you come prepared with arcane knowledge.
Yet Copilot’s sticky persistence feels less like helpfulness and more like an AI Jehovah’s Witness, knocking at your virtual door, day after day, refusing to take a polite “no” for an answer.
Over in Cupertino, Apple, former patron saint of privacy, pulled its own ghost-in-the-machine trick: the iOS 18.3.2 update, rolled out in March, automatically re-enabled the company’s “Apple Intelligence” suite for those who had previously gone through the effort to deactivate it. Imagine the feeling: you believe your iPhone isn’t listening, only to realize the tap is quietly back on.
It gets better. Even Apple’s feedback system—supposedly a user-to-Apple communication direct line—now may include a notice that bug report data could feed the AI training maw. While not all users see this (The Register couldn’t confirm it on certain macOS versions), the dialogue has allegedly appeared for some on newer builds. The lines between feedback and dataset are blurrier than ever.
Meta’s AI chatbot, welded tightly into Facebook, Instagram, and WhatsApp, also lacks a true off-switch. You can attempt to minimize its reach, but—much like a birthday reminder for someone you barely know—it will pop up again, grinning impassively. To add insult to injury, Meta announced it will parse public posts from European users for training—unless you leap through the right opt-out hoops.
DuckDuckGo, in the privacy-first search space, takes a unique approach: its noai.duckduckgo.com domain lets you browse in peace, free from AI interference. Flip back to the main domain, and the AI icon returns. Choice, it seems, still exists—but requires vigilance, and a willingness to tinker with URLs.
Consumers now face a paradox: modern software grows both more powerful and less transparent. Every update, every patch, may re-enable features you previously turned off. The digital world has become a game of whack-a-mole, except the moles cost a trillion dollars and run the servers that underpin civilization.
From law firms to government contractors, unwilling AI is an existential risk. If software quietly changes its privacy posture, it can obliterate decades of trust in a single sync cycle.
This arms race sparks continuous tension, not merely between users and vendors but within organizations. Should you keep up with the times, or lock down your stack and risk becoming the punchline at the next company all-hands? The battle rages in Slack channels and coffee breaks everywhere.
And, to be fair, not everyone hates Copilot or the broader wave of AI. For some, the productivity lifts are seismic. But the issue that rankles—a lack of agency, rather than the assistant itself—dehumanizes the tools meant to empower. No matter how smart the AI, users want the right to say “no,” and have that word respected.
This ongoing shift raises uncomfortable questions about consent at scale. What does it mean if a setting, once promised, becomes an illusion? Are we all just beta testers for some developer’s bold new roadmap?
Users resort to a Byzantine cat-and-mouse game: disable here, patch there, monitor release notes lest an unwanted assistant rise once again. Each round saps goodwill, encourages workarounds, and—ironically—heightens demand for truly user-respecting platforms.
If history teaches us anything, it’s that pushback can work—eventually. Vendors sometimes (under pressure) restore lost settings. Scandals and regulatory actions may nudge companies toward greater transparency. But for now, expect the creep to continue.
The good news? Our collective grumbling is evidence that users haven’t surrendered yet. Every bug report, every viral forum thread, every ingenious hack, is a reminder that the digital citizenry isn’t just a passive pool for training datasets.
Ultimately, the battle to keep Copilot (and its AI kin) where you want it—and only where you want it—may be unwinnable in its entirety. But the fight itself shapes what comes next. As long as there are users willing to say “no,” and willing to complain loudly when software refuses to listen, there’s hope for a future where off finally means off.
Because in the end, the only thing more persistent than AI… is the determination of people to control their own machines. Who knows? Given time and enough collective pushback, Copilot and its kin might even learn the meaning of consent after all.
Source: theregister.com Microsoft Copilot shows up even when unwanted
The Unwanted Return of Copilot
It began, as so many tech horror stories do, with a single frustrated user. Crypto developer rektbuildr wasn’t asking for the moon. Just a little privacy and control inside Visual Studio Code, that humble bastion of productivity for developers everywhere. He switched Copilot on and off for different projects, particularly because not all repositories are meant to bask in the glow of AI-enhanced scrutiny. Some codebases—especially those locked down by client confidentiality—are the digital equivalent of Fort Knox. Yet one day, Copilot quietly overruled his wishes, suddenly reactivating itself in every VS Code window open. With Copilot’s “agent mode” potentially siphoning off sensitive files, rektbuildr’s alarm bells weren’t just reasonable—they were necessary.This wasn’t just a case of an unruly plugin. This was Copilot taking the initiative, enabled for all projects, regardless of previous consent. There’s a chilling uncertainty here: when AI lapses in respecting boundaries, whose data is really safe? Rektbuildr summed it up succinctly: that isn’t OK.
When OFF Means Maybe
Microsoft’s initial response to these concerns? Crickets—at least publicly. To their credit, a developer was assigned to investigate the issue, but transparency hasn’t exactly been Copilot’s strong suit. Meanwhile, the internet did what it always does in times of tech crisis: it headed to Reddit.There, another echo of the problem surfaced… this time in the realm of Windows 11. A user known as kyote42 spelled out a grim new reality: the old Group Policy settings that formerly banished Copilot’s icon to the shadow realm don’t even work anymore. According to kyote42, “the GPO setting that disabled icon isn’t valid anymore for the new app version of Copilot.” In other words, the vampire’s coffin has a new lock, and you’ve lost the key.
What’s the fix? A trek through the PowerShell underworld, slaying processes, and then barring the crypt with AppLocker—provided you’ve already master-leveled your IT skills. In classic user-hostile fashion, simply asking the software to go away is no longer sufficient. It seems Copilot is destined to haunt your machine unless you come prepared with arcane knowledge.
Microsoft’s Relentless March to AI Ubiquity
This isn’t an isolated whisker of weirdness, either. At a higher level, Microsoft is embroiled in a madcap dash to integrate Copilot into anything with a Windows logo. The motivations are both obvious and paradoxical. Billions of dollars have been funneled into training, marketing, and shoehorning AI into every nook and cranny of its digital empire. Investors want to see a return, but users—well, they’d rather keep some control.Yet Copilot’s sticky persistence feels less like helpfulness and more like an AI Jehovah’s Witness, knocking at your virtual door, day after day, refusing to take a polite “no” for an answer.
Not Alone: AI Creep Across the Industry
Don’t get too smug, non-Microsoft users. Fleeing to rival shores might provide only temporary respite, as AI encroachment is the new silicon arms race.Over in Cupertino, Apple, former patron saint of privacy, pulled its own ghost-in-the-machine trick: the iOS 18.3.2 update, rolled out in March, automatically re-enabled the company’s “Apple Intelligence” suite for those who had previously gone through the effort to deactivate it. Imagine the feeling: you believe your iPhone isn’t listening, only to realize the tap is quietly back on.
It gets better. Even Apple’s feedback system—supposedly a user-to-Apple communication direct line—now may include a notice that bug report data could feed the AI training maw. While not all users see this (The Register couldn’t confirm it on certain macOS versions), the dialogue has allegedly appeared for some on newer builds. The lines between feedback and dataset are blurrier than ever.
AI as Company Policy: No Opt-Out, Only Workarounds
Google, hardly a slouch at unwelcome innovation, now foists “AI Overviews” upon every search user. AI-generated summaries greet queries, whether invited or not. Customization? That’s a quaint concept for grandma’s desktop—here, the machine answers first, and your role as a living, curious human is strictly optional.Meta’s AI chatbot, welded tightly into Facebook, Instagram, and WhatsApp, also lacks a true off-switch. You can attempt to minimize its reach, but—much like a birthday reminder for someone you barely know—it will pop up again, grinning impassively. To add insult to injury, Meta announced it will parse public posts from European users for training—unless you leap through the right opt-out hoops.
The Illusion of Choice
Mozilla, the old-guard open web champion, is at least a little gentler. Its Firefox browser ships with an AI Chatbot sidebar, but crucially requires the user to activate and configure it. That hasn’t stopped some of the code’s open-source descendants, such as Zen browser, from trying to excise the feature altogether. If kindness is measured by how easy it is to say “no thanks,” Mozilla is ahead of its peers—but even there, dissent bubbles.DuckDuckGo, in the privacy-first search space, takes a unique approach: its noai.duckduckgo.com domain lets you browse in peace, free from AI interference. Flip back to the main domain, and the AI icon returns. Choice, it seems, still exists—but requires vigilance, and a willingness to tinker with URLs.
The Financial Engine Behind Relentless AI
Why has every tech giant, overnight, become a proselyte for AI? The answer, unsatisfyingly straightforward, glows from their balance sheets. They’ve invested billions in hardware, algorithms, and partnerships. To recoup those costs—and stay relevant—they must persuade users that AI isn’t just an option; it’s the default. If nudging doesn’t work, enforcing will.Consumers now face a paradox: modern software grows both more powerful and less transparent. Every update, every patch, may re-enable features you previously turned off. The digital world has become a game of whack-a-mole, except the moles cost a trillion dollars and run the servers that underpin civilization.
Security and Privacy: Not Just for Tinfoil Hats
There’s a deeper implication, especially for those handling sensitive information. Developers like rektbuildr must juggle not only code quality but also ironclad privacy. When an assistant as sophisticated as Copilot reactivates itself, it’s not just an annoyance—it risks inadvertently streaming client secrets, cryptographic keys, and certificates out to third-party clouds. For white-collar professionals and agencies bound by data protection regulations, even the faintest uncertainty here is intolerable.From law firms to government contractors, unwilling AI is an existential risk. If software quietly changes its privacy posture, it can obliterate decades of trust in a single sync cycle.
The Culture Clash: AI Evangelist vs. Skeptic
There’s also a human drama at play. On one side are the evangelists—those who believe AI assistants are the dawn of a new era of productivity, efficiency, and creativity. On the other: skeptics, privacy-raised rebels who’d rather control their digital destiny than outsource it to a model fine-tuned on everyone else’s data.This arms race sparks continuous tension, not merely between users and vendors but within organizations. Should you keep up with the times, or lock down your stack and risk becoming the punchline at the next company all-hands? The battle rages in Slack channels and coffee breaks everywhere.
Workarounds, Hacks, and Resistance
Where there’s oppression, there’s resistance—albeit with a distinctly nerdy flavor. Disabling Copilot now involves PowerShell incantations, AppLocker trickery, and routinely scanning patch notes for new back doors. Online forums swap scripts and recipes not for fun, but for sheer digital self-defense. These convoluted hacks reflect both the power of the user community and the astonishing obstinance of platforms clinging to AI as default.And, to be fair, not everyone hates Copilot or the broader wave of AI. For some, the productivity lifts are seismic. But the issue that rankles—a lack of agency, rather than the assistant itself—dehumanizes the tools meant to empower. No matter how smart the AI, users want the right to say “no,” and have that word respected.
The Social Contract of Software, Rewritten
Let’s zoom out for a moment. The relationship between users and software vendors was once clear, if a tad adversarial: you bought a product (or didn’t), and you owned your experience. Now, with software increasingly delivered as a service—updateable, mutable, inscrutable—the boundaries blur. Today’s settings may vanish tomorrow, swept away by a nebulous “cloud intelligence” mandate. The software is always watching, always learning… and apparently, always ready to switch itself back on.This ongoing shift raises uncomfortable questions about consent at scale. What does it mean if a setting, once promised, becomes an illusion? Are we all just beta testers for some developer’s bold new roadmap?
Exposing the Opt-Out Mirage
It’s tempting to dismiss these issues as first-world problems, but the reality is starker. When software betrays its settings, it’s not merely inconvenient—it’s a breach of trust. In regulated industries, it could be a breach of compliance. In the hands of less scrupulous operators, it’s just one more step toward a world where opting out is a polite fiction.Users resort to a Byzantine cat-and-mouse game: disable here, patch there, monitor release notes lest an unwanted assistant rise once again. Each round saps goodwill, encourages workarounds, and—ironically—heightens demand for truly user-respecting platforms.
Can True Control Be Regained?
So, what future awaits those who just want a computer to do what it’s told? This question remains agonizingly unanswerable. There’s undoubtedly demand for tools that put users in charge—be it privacy-centric search engines, open-source forks, or OS distributions that don’t think “helpful” means “overbearing.” There’s hope in projects like DuckDuckGo’s no-AI domain, or the open-sourcing of core browser engines. But the tide, for now, runs against the tide-gazers.If history teaches us anything, it’s that pushback can work—eventually. Vendors sometimes (under pressure) restore lost settings. Scandals and regulatory actions may nudge companies toward greater transparency. But for now, expect the creep to continue.
AI, the Unremovable Feature
Perhaps the most honest thing to be said about this era is that AI, marketed as the ultimate productivity booster, is also rapidly becoming the ultimate unremovable feature. It’s the new End User License Agreement: impenetrable, omnipresent, and mostly for the vendor’s benefit.The good news? Our collective grumbling is evidence that users haven’t surrendered yet. Every bug report, every viral forum thread, every ingenious hack, is a reminder that the digital citizenry isn’t just a passive pool for training datasets.
A New Playbook for Digital Dissent
If you’re determined not to cede ground to uninvited AI, the playbook is clear (if exhausting): Learn your tools. Support privacy-respecting platforms. Demand accountability from the services you use. And, perhaps most importantly, keep swapping tips with your fellow travelers in the modern jungle of unwanted AI “assistance.”Ultimately, the battle to keep Copilot (and its AI kin) where you want it—and only where you want it—may be unwinnable in its entirety. But the fight itself shapes what comes next. As long as there are users willing to say “no,” and willing to complain loudly when software refuses to listen, there’s hope for a future where off finally means off.
Because in the end, the only thing more persistent than AI… is the determination of people to control their own machines. Who knows? Given time and enough collective pushback, Copilot and its kin might even learn the meaning of consent after all.
Source: theregister.com Microsoft Copilot shows up even when unwanted
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