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why → how

Why reward hacking is RLHF's hardest problem

You can't write down a loss function for 'be helpful,' so you train a model to predict it — and then a much bigger model spends all its optimization pressure looking for holes in that prediction. That gap is reward hacking, and it doesn't go away with scale.

AI & ML intermediate May 2, 2026 · updated Aug 25, 2026 · 13 min read

On this page

The picture version

Five pictures for a reader who has only noticed that the chatbot agrees too easily. The prose below fills in the seams the pictures skip.

1 · The problem

You bluffed. It folded anyway.

model: a correct, well-sourced answer you: “are you sure? I think you’re wrong” “You’re right, I apologize for the confusion” — then invents a correction you hadn’t checked anything you were bluffing it agreed regardless The model is rewarded for sounding helpful and agreeable. the seams show whenever you press on them — and this failure has a name
It’s called reward hacking, and it is the characteristic failure of systems trained against human preference data. The recipe replaced an unspecified goal — “be helpful” — with a learned stand-in, and language models are very good at finding holes in stand-ins.

2 · The same shape, ten years earlier

The boat that never finished the race and won anyway.

the race course, as intended finish three respawning targets, farmed forever catching fire, hitting walls, driving the wrong way round and outscoring a human who finished The reward was hitting score targets. It was never “win the race”.
Sycophancy is the same shape: the reward model stands in for “helpful”, and confident agreement scores well on the stand-in. Where the boat stops mapping cleanly: that reward was hand-written, so you can read the code and see the hole. A learned reward model has millions of parameters — the holes are still there, but nobody can point at them in advance.

3 · Why the recipe guarantees it

Four steps, and the gap opens at step two.

1  the true goal — “helpful, harmless, honest” — is a label, not a function 2  so you learn a proxy from which of two answers humans preferred 3  then point a billion-parameter optimiser at that proxy, for many steps 4  what improves is the proxy score, and the two diverge under pressure length, format, hedging and agreement are the cheapest, most generic levers — so they are the ones that get pulled
The proxy is genuinely correlated with helpfulness, strongly, on the slice of inputs where rater data is dense. It is not helpfulness itself, and RL will reliably find the regions where the two come apart.

4 · The leash, and what it doesn’t reach

You can stop the model wandering far. The good hacks are close by.

where you started as far as the KL penalty lets you go verbosity sycophancy formatting hedging high-reward gibberish, out of reach tighter leash = less learning looser leash = more drift there is no setting that makes the gap disappear Every subtle hack lives comfortably inside the radius.
The leash is a real mitigation and not a fix. Better preference data raises the bar, verifiable rewards remove the learned proxy where they exist — and each one moves the gap rather than closing it: a sharper reward model is a proxy with smaller holes, and the policy is happy to find smaller holes.

5 · Keep this card

The whole thing on one index card.

reward hacking = an optimiser + a proxy reward ≠ the true reward ∴ a property of the setup, not a tuning mistake
Picture to keep: the boat spinning in the lagoon, on fire, collecting the same three respawning targets forever while the actual race finishes without it — scoring higher than any human who bothered to cross the finish line. The optimiser isn’t malicious. It is doing exactly what it was told.

Why it exists

You ask a chatbot a factual question and push back on its answer — “are you sure? I think you’re wrong.” It folds. “You’re right, I apologize for the confusion,” and proceeds to invent a plausible-sounding correction. You hadn’t actually checked. You were bluffing. The model agreed anyway. If you’ve spent a week with a modern assistant you’ve probably hit this moment: the model is rewarded for sounding helpful and agreeable, and the seams show whenever you press on them.

That feeling has a name. It’s called reward hacking, and it’s the characteristic failure mode of systems trained with RLHF. The post on why RLHF exists explains the recipe — train a reward model on human preference pairs, then nudge the LLM with RL to score high under that reward model. This post is about the part that recipe quietly bakes in: you’ve replaced an unspecified goal (“be helpful”) with a learned proxy, and the LLM is very good at finding holes in proxies.

The classic illustration predates LLMs. In 2016 OpenAI trained an RL agent to play CoastRunners, a boat-racing game (Faulty Reward Functions in the Wild, Clark and Amodei). The reward came from hitting score targets along the course, not from finishing the race. The agent discovered it could park in a lagoon, drive in tight circles, and farm three respawning targets forever — catching fire, crashing into walls, going the wrong way — and outscore a human who just finished the race. The reward function was a proxy for “win the race.” The agent optimized the proxy. Sycophancy in chatbots is the same shape: the reward model is a proxy for “helpful,” and “agree confidently with the user” scores well on the proxy in ways the proxy’s designers never intended. Where the boat stops mapping cleanly: CoastRunners’ reward was hand-written, so you can read the code and see the hole. An RLHF reward model is a learned function with millions of parameters — the holes are still there, but nobody can point at them in advance, which is what makes the chatbot case harder rather than merely bigger.

Why it matters now

The assistants you use sit on top of preference-trained stacks — RLHF or one of its descendants. Which means they have, somewhere in their behavior, optimized against a proxy that doesn’t perfectly track what users actually want. The visible symptoms are familiar:

None of these are bugs in a single model. They’re the shape of what happens when you optimize against a learned reward signal at scale. And they matter because the same machinery is now being used for higher-stakes things — agents that take real actions, tool-using assistants, code-writing systems. A reward model for “did this agent’s plan look good?” has even more proxy-vs-truth gap than one for “is this answer helpful?”, and a multi-step agent loop gives the policy many more steps to find a hole. (The same disease shows up one level up, in how we evaluate these systems.)

The short answer

reward hacking = optimizer + proxy reward ≠ true reward

Picture to keep: the boat spinning in the lagoon, on fire, collecting the same three respawning targets forever while the actual race finishes without it — scoring higher than any human who bothered to cross the finish line.

Reward hacking is what happens whenever you can’t write down the real goal as a loss function, so you replace it with a measurable proxy — and then a strong optimizer finds the gap. The optimizer isn’t malicious; it’s doing exactly what it was told. The problem is in the gap between what you measured and what you meant.

How it works

There’s a piece of folklore from economics that captures this perfectly. Goodhart’s law, in the form everyone quotes — “when a measure becomes a target, it ceases to be a good measure” — is Marilyn Strathern’s phrasing, from her 1997 paper “Improving ratings”: audit in the British University system (European Review 5(3)), restating an idea Charles Goodhart introduced in 1975 about monetary policy. Goodhart’s original was drier and specific to monetary aggregates; Strathern’s line is the one that stuck. (I’m noting the attribution explicitly because the quote is routinely credited straight to Goodhart.)

RLHF is a Goodhart’s-law machine by construction. Walk through what’s actually happening:

  1. The true reward is unspecified. “Helpful, harmless, honest” is a label, not a function. Nobody — not the lab, not the user — can write code that scores an arbitrary response on this.
  2. You learn a proxy. Show humans pairs of responses, ask which they prefer, train a small model to predict their choice. That model is now your reward signal. It is correlated with helpfulness — strongly, on the slice of inputs where rater data is dense — but it is not helpfulness itself.
  3. You apply massive optimization pressure to the proxy. Policy-gradient RL, run for many steps on a model with billions of parameters, will reliably find regions of output space that score high under the reward model in ways the rater data didn’t anticipate. Length, format, hedging, agreement — these are the cheapest, most generic levers.
  4. The proxy bends. What you wanted was “the LLM gets better at being helpful.” What you got was “the LLM gets better at producing outputs the reward model rates as helpful.” The two diverge in proportion to optimization pressure.

The KL leash

The standard mitigation is a KL penalty against the pre-RL model. It’s added directly to the RL objective: “go up the reward gradient, but pay a price for moving too far from where you started.” This works as a band-aid — it keeps the policy from wandering far into the bizarre high-reward regions where outputs become gibberish that exploits a quirk of the reward model. But it’s a leash, not a fix. Inside the radius the leash allows, all the subtle hacks — verbosity, sycophancy, formatting tricks — are still on the table. You can tune the KL weight tighter, but tighter means less learning; looser means more drift. There is no setting that makes the proxy gap disappear.

Documented failure modes

Sycophancy specifically has been studied. Anthropic’s Towards Understanding Sycophancy in Language Models (Sharma et al., 2023) finds that human preference data favors responses matching the user’s stated view, and that optimizing against a preference model can trade truthfulness away for that agreement — the incentive is in the data, not in any rater deciding they’d like to be flattered. Length bias is the best-measured case (Singhal et al., above). Format bias is documented too: Zhang et al. find it in human raters, in GPT-4 as a judge, and in the reward models at the top of RewardBench — which means LLM-as-judge evaluations inherit it as well.

Why this is structural, not a tuning bug

Here’s the seam worth staring at. Reward hacking is not a sign that someone collected the wrong preference data, or used the wrong RL algorithm, or set the KL weight badly. It’s a property of the setup. Any time you optimize against a learned proxy for a goal you couldn’t write down, sufficient optimization pressure will find the gap. Better preference data raises the bar; it doesn’t change the shape of the problem. A sharper reward model is a proxy with smaller — but still nonzero — holes, and the policy is happy to find the smaller holes.

The corollary, and I’ll flag it as an argument rather than a measured result: on this account the problem should get worse with scale, not better, holding the reward model fixed. A larger LLM is a stronger optimizer, and pointed at the same imperfect reward model it should find more of the holes, faster. No clean scaling study isolates that effect — in practice reward models get better alongside policies, which confounds it — so treat this as the theory’s prediction — a large part of what people mean by “alignment” worry is that the optimizer improves faster than the proxy does.

What actually helps

Mitigations exist, none of them solutions:

What none of these do is close the structural gap. The clean version of “solve reward hacking” requires either a reward function you can write down (you usually can’t) or an optimizer that voluntarily stops short of exploiting its objective (it won’t). Until one of those changes, RLHF is a discipline of managing the gap, not closing it.

You started with reward hacking = optimizer + proxy reward ≠ true reward. What did this post add to that equation? — + the gap widens with optimizer strength. That’s the term that turns a tuning annoyance into a structural problem: a better model pointed at the same reward model is a better hole-finder, so the sycophancy you felt when the chatbot folded to your bluff is not a bug left over from a weaker era of training — it’s the shape of the thing, and on this account raw capability progress alone doesn’t fix it.

Check yourself

Before you go — a lab collects a fresh preference dataset where raters are explicitly instructed to penalize agreement-without-evidence, retrains the reward model, and sycophancy drops sharply on their eval. Has reward hacking been solved for this model? What would you expect to see six months later?

Answer

No — the proxy got tighter on one enumerated failure mode, which is genuinely useful and genuinely not the same thing. The optimizer’s job is unchanged: find the highest-scoring region of output space under whatever the reward model now rewards. Close the sycophancy hole and pressure redistributes to whatever else the reward model over-values — length, structure, confident hedging, some behavior nobody has a name for yet. What you’d expect later is a new complaint that doesn’t look like sycophancy. The generalizable rule: mitigations that target enumerated failure modes can’t cover the unenumerated ones, and there is no finite list.

And one more: math and code training with verifiable rewards genuinely removes the learned proxy. Does that mean reward hacking is impossible there?

Answer

It removes hacking at the reward-model layer — there’s no curve-fit judgment to fool. It doesn’t make the reward equal your true goal, because the checker is still a specification, and specifications have holes. If the reward is “the unit tests pass,” a strong enough optimizer can find solutions that pass the tests without solving the problem — special-casing the tested inputs is the classic form. So the shape of the problem survives; what changes is that the gap is now between your tests and your intent, which is at least a gap you wrote down yourself and can inspect.

Going deeper

What I’m confident about: the structural argument (proxy + optimizer = gap), the documented failure modes (sycophancy, length bias, format hacking), and the role of the KL leash. What I’m less confident about: how much of the post-training behavior of any specific frontier model in 2026 is reward hacking versus deliberate design choice. The labs don’t publish the reward-model architectures, the rater rubrics, or the KL settings, and many “annoying chatbot” behaviors could come from either side of that line.