Launched in 2022, Harvey AI has swiftly emerged as one of the most prominent legal-tech start-ups of the generative AI era. At its core, Harvey AI employs cutting-edge machine learning and artificial intelligence models to assist legal professionals with a range of tasks such as contract drafting, document review, legal research, and issue identification. Designed with an in-depth understanding of the legal ecosystem, it aims to transform the way law firms and corporate legal departments operate. The platform has deliberately targeted elite law firms and multinational corporations by developing specialised modules for high-stakes legal work, including mergers and acquisitions compliance.

Harvey’s foundational model was developed in collaboration with OpenAI. However, its creators have since expanded its capabilities by incorporating models from Anthropic and Google, demonstrating an agile and integrative approach to AI development. A recent Reuters article reports that, "In 2024, global investments in legal technology startups reached $2.1 billion, according to data from Crunchbase." Notably, February 2025 marked one of the highest investment peaks in U.S. legal tech history. This surge in funding reflects the sector's growing confidence in AI as a tool to enhance efficiency, reduce costs, and improve client service in an increasingly competitive market.

Currently in its beta stage, Harvey AI offers an extensive suite of features that simulate various functions typically carried out by junior associates. From analysing lengthy contracts to producing legal memos in response to complex queries, the software demonstrates a capacity that was, until recently, unimaginable. According to the Clio Legal Trends Report, "AI could automate nearly 75% of hourly billable work in law firms." This statistic is not just staggering in terms of technological advancement but also in what it signifies for the legal profession: a seismic shift in how legal work is conceptualised, delivered, and valued.

These developments compel us to ask a fundamental question: is AI merely a tool to assist lawyers, or is it becoming a potential replacement? In conducting primary research for this article, I reached out to several of my peers currently pursuing undergraduate law degrees. A shared sentiment emerged—anxiety. Many of them are apprehensive about their future in a field that is increasingly leaning toward automation. The allure of AI as a tool for efficiency is undeniable, but it also raises existential concerns about job security and the essence of legal practice.

As a law student myself, I once believed that the role of a lawyer was immune to technological substitution. Legal education, after all, is not confined to reading statutes or memorising case law. It is an interdisciplinary pursuit, informed by history, politics, sociology, and economics. The law, as I understand it, is not merely a set of rules but a dynamic system that reflects the values, struggles, and aspirations of a society. It shapes, and is shaped by, the communities it governs. But reading these reports and observing the rapid adoption of AI in legal spaces has prompted a profound re-evaluation of this belief.

In law school, our training encompasses mooting—where we learn to construct and deconstruct arguments—and client counselling, where we are taught to tailor legal advice based on a client’s specific circumstances and emotional needs. Both these activities are intellectually rigorous and heavily reliant on written documentation. Drafting pleadings, preparing arguments, and conducting research are not peripheral activities; they are integral to the practice of law. If these tasks are increasingly being outsourced to AI, what remains for the budding lawyer?

There is something profoundly human about the process of legal reasoning. It involves intuition, empathy, and ethical judgment. While AI can parse through terabytes of data and identify patterns, it cannot replicate the nuance that comes from lived experience. In our pursuit of perfection, we risk losing the very imperfections that make us capable of justice. Being human means being fallible, but it also means being capable of compassion, discretion, and moral reasoning—qualities that no machine can authentically possess.

Ironically, while law firms continue to demand excellence from aspiring candidates—top grades, stellar extracurriculars, and diverse internships—they are simultaneously embracing AI to carry out much of the substantive work these candidates train for. The contradiction is stark. The very processes that once signified competence and professionalism are being mechanised. There is a certain sanctity in reading through a judgment, annotating it with highlighters and sticky notes, or crafting a legal argument after hours of research. These are not mere rituals; they are formative experiences that cultivate legal reasoning and professional identity.

Moreover, Harvey AI is not alone. Other platforms, such as Lucio AI, offer similarly robust capabilities for document generation and legal research. The proliferation of such tools suggests a paradigm shift, not a passing trend. As someone deeply invested in building a career in law, I find this shift both exciting and unsettling. The intellectual rigour, the emotional investment, and the sheer time that law students devote to mastering the craft of legal writing and analysis risk being rendered obsolete in the name of speed and scalability. This is not to say that efficiency and productivity are without merit. They are foundational to any profession, especially law, where time is often of the essence. However, if these virtues come at the cost of sidelining human intellect and intuition, then we must question the direction we are heading in. Replacing human effort with algorithmic solutions may offer short-term gains but could erode the deeper values that the legal profession has historically upheld.

Why should aspiring lawyers invest years in rigorous education, why should families invest in that education, if the endgame is to be replaced by a machine? Why strive for excellence if efficiency trumps expertise? And if AI can so competently assume the role of the lawyer, can we be far from a future where AI sits on the bench, adjudicating cases with cold precision?

These are not hypothetical musings; they are pressing ethical and professional questions. The legal community must grapple with them honestly. The march of technology is inevitable, but the manner in which we integrate it into our institutions is a matter of choice. Let us not trade wisdom for efficiency or reduce justice to an algorithm. In a world increasingly driven by data and digital tools, we must remember that the practice of law is ultimately about people—their rights, their stories, and their futures.

Is Harvey AI the new lawyer on the block? Perhaps. But before we hand over the keys to the courthouse, we must ask ourselves: what kind of justice do we want—one that is fast and formulaic, or one that is thoughtful, human, and just?