Meta’s Muse mascot is named Jolly. It’s an adorable, cuddly representation of Meta’s AI agent that you can dress however you want—like a doll. At the company’s recent Meta Connect event, CEO Mark Zuckerberg’s furry Muse donned a toga and laurel wreath. In Instagram ads I saw for Muse, the mascot wore exercise gear and boasted about helping with my fitness goals. Later this year, Meta plans to sell a Tamagotchi-style device for your Muse character. It’s all very kawaii-coded.
Although Muse’s ability to complete digital tasks rocketed it to the top of the app charts, its Labubu-adjacent mascot latched this agent onto the cultural zeitgeist. Alexandr Wang, Meta’s chief AI officer, recently posted nonstop memes of Jolly, sometimes in suggestive situations. What remains perplexing to me is why a product for adults—Muse is restricted to those 18 and over—looks just like a well-designed children’s toy.
“This is a story in search of a story,” Meta spokesperson Daniel Roberts tells WIRED. “People want to be able to create their own avatar with personality and unique style, because it’s fun and brings them joy. We require everyone using the Muse app to provide their date of birth, we block people we detect may be under 18 from creating an account, and we do additional checks to help ensure people who say they’re adults are actually over 18.”
Mona Sarantakos, vice president of Product Management at Meta Superintelligence Labs, describes the design process for Muse as leaning into “delightful” elements and meant to feel less awkward than chatting with “a corporate logo or entity,” in a blog post she co-authored around Muse’s release.
Youth advocates are already pushing back against Meta’s Muse mascot. “Oh my God, it looks like a Teletubby,” says Josh Golin, an executive director at Fairplay, a nonprofit that previously lobbied against Meta’s targeting of children. “It’s so clearly a character that would appeal to very young children,” he says. “People who study children’s media understand that those rounded shapes particularly appeal to kids in the preschool age.”
Jolly’s appeal is not limited to those in diapers. The adorable aesthetic of Muse’s mascot also draws me in, a 32-year-old man living in San Francisco. The branding may disarm people of all ages, especially since the backlash against Meta and generative AI continues to resonate with many Americans.
“These types of cute factors can make the product seem warm and less threatening,” says Julian De Freitas, an associate professor of marketing at Harvard who focuses on AI companions. “There’s a high bar that they have to overcome here, because attitudes toward Meta are quite negative after the social addiction rulings.” In August, Meta settled claims regarding social media addiction, agreeing to add restrictive features for teens on Instagram and Facebook as well as paying out up to $16.7 billion.
Some experts I spoke with were less convinced this design was meant to appeal to children, comparing Muse’s mascot to Japan’s long history of broadly relying on adorable characters to market technology. Meta’s approach is not unique either. From the annoying chirping of Microsoft’s Clippy to the more recent red-shelled OpenClaw lobster, AI assistants often revolve around anthropomorphized characters.
No matter your age, a cuddly creature representing an AI tool can be disarming, even to the point where you might forget about privacy concerns. For example, Meta trains its AI models on your Muse interactions unless you opt out.
“Design features like being cute and frictionless, or tapping into nostalgia for devices that didn’t constantly surveil and intervene in our lives, are sly ways to make people drop their guard, stop asking critical questions, and slip into being passive users,” says Jathan Sadowski, an associate professor with the Emerging Technologies Research Lab at Australia’s Monash University. “Agents like Muse are trying to convince us they’re just a cute little guy who lives in your pocket, and definitely not an always-open portal into the servers of a major surveillance company.” Research suggests that adopting AI agents could make you more passive.
Meta says it will release a “confidential” version of its virtual machine that helps power Muse later in 2026. This option could “cryptographically and verifiably prevent” Meta from accessing a user’s data.
Even so, a level of risk remains when adults decide to trust an AI agent, going beyond potential privacy concerns. Ryan Calo, a professor at the University of Washington and faculty cofounder of its Tech Policy Lab, compares using agents to hiring a tour guide when you’re on vacation. You’re relying on them as the intermediary between you and the experience, without necessarily knowing who they are getting kickbacks from and which restaurant the group is visiting only because the guide and the owners are friends.
As the holidays roll around soon and Meta launches Muse Charm, its Tamagotchi-like device, youth advocates are remaining on red alert.
“This really feels like a completely inappropriate attempt by Meta to get young kids hooked on Muse,” Golin says. “This is something that families should say no to, and I think it’s something that regulators should take a hard look at.”
