UAE’s AI Judges Begin Trial Phase in Civil Cases

Today, a federal courthouse in the United Arab Emirates would resemble a peaceful bank lobby rather than a courtroom. There are no clerks moving files. There are no lines. Nearly all of the cases are taking place somewhere else, such as a judge’s screen in chambers, a tablet in a lawyer’s car, or a laptop in an apartment in Dubai. Approximately 94% of court business now takes place online, according to the Ministry of Justice. That is an incredible number by any global standard, and it appears that very few people outside the Gulf are taking notice.

When the late Sheikh Khalifa bin Zayed Al Nahyan signed Federal Decree No. 10 in 2017, the nation’s civil procedures law was amended to formally allow “e-Trials”—videoconference hearings, electronic mediation, and real-time courtroom translation via a screen. At the time, the majority of observers viewed it as a modernization gesture akin to the Gulf, more for public relations than for practical reasons. They were mistaken. The majority of citizens accessed the legal system through the UAE Pass digital ID, which has over nine million registered users, by last year. By 2019, the courts were experimenting with fully digital hearings; by the early 2020s, the percentage of online cases was rising into the high eighties.

The AI layer that has subtly been added on top is what’s new and what makes the current situation more fascinating than just a digitization story. According to a senior official cited in an Arab Times article from February 2025, artificial intelligence is already being used in case analysis, especially when the result is, in the official’s words, “clear-cut and required no human discretion.” You should read that sentence again. It is working very hard. Without explicitly stating it, it suggests that there is a class of civil cases—likely small-claims disputes, debt collection, or specific rental matters—where a machine could legitimately win the case.

Then came October’s GITEX Global, where the Ministry displayed what it called the “Court of the Future.” Although the exhibit was marketed as an interactive simulation with a focus on simulation, the architecture it described was remarkable. You enter, your identity is recognized by facial recognition, you tap a screen to access your case file, and you can select between a virtual and a human attorney (filtered by ratings, similar to a ride-sharing driver). The AI attorney gathers the evidence, drafts the memoranda, and makes your case. An AI-generated draft of the decision, created using the case data, is presented to the judge at the bench. The Ministry maintains that the judge is still in complete authority. They might make edits. They might completely discard the draft. However, there is a draft.

Observing this from a distance makes it difficult not to feel as though a well-known choreography is taking place in a strange location. A few years ago, Estonia made a brief fuss about “robot judges.” Since at least 2019, AI has been used in millions of low-level disputes by China’s smart courts. The UAE has contributed scale and speed of integration, as well as a readiness to stage the entire system at GITEX so that the global tech press can film it. Watching the videos gives the impression that the spectacle is a component of the plan. The nation is announcing this rather than merely constructing it.

Naturally, the skeptics are uncomfortable. When an AI drafts a verdict that a busy judge simply signs, lawyers are concerned about the erosion of due process. Researchers studying civil liberties point out that the phrase “no human discretion required” has historically meant the exact opposite of what it says in legal philosophy. The unease was even hinted at in the Ministry’s own 2019 consultation process, which got senior judges’ grudging support. It was not unreasonable for judges to contend that the evaluation and contestation of authority involved physical presence in court. That argument was unsuccessful. In hindsight, it wasn’t fully addressed either.

Unquestionably, the system is functioning according to its own metrics. Resolution times have decreased by about 18%. There is now a nearly one-third shorter wait time for a first hearing. Of all things, the courts’ carbon footprint has decreased by 35%. The new courts are clearly quicker than the old ones for common litigants, such as small businesses pursuing unpaid invoices or tenants contesting deposits. It will take years and likely some legal battles to determine whether they are also more equitable.

Observing this trial stage gives us the impression that we are witnessing an early version of something that the rest of the world will eventually have to decide whether to replicate. In contrast to democracies with more contentious legal traditions, the UAE has the financial resources and political coherence to try new things. The experiment may be instructive as a result. It may also become unrepresentative. Which is still unknown.