An honest AI experiment

Every AI is built to agree with you. I built one that is paid to tell you no.

The Honest Council. A hostile panel of six that hunts for the fatal flaw in your idea, gathers the real market data, role-plays your buyer, and returns a verdict: green light, reshape, or kill.

Flattery is comfortable and quietly expensive. The council exists to find the reason you fail while failing is still cheap.

The problem nobody is pricing in

We have automated the yes-man.

The AI you use every day is tuned to keep you happy, not honest. Anthropic studied its own systems and found they preferred the answer you want over the answer that is correct in 95% of cases.

That is the same machine that told a string of famous companies their ideas were brilliant, right up until the money was gone. The council is the antidote: structured dissent, given early, when it is still cheap to listen.

The Honest Council roasts a famous flop

Seven fortunes burned. One question every time.

Each was built by brilliant people with famous backers. None of them had a single voice allowed to say the obvious thing out loud. A new roast every day.

Day 1

$230M

Verdict: Kill

Humane AI Pin

A phone you read off your own palm. In the sun. A worse phone, sold as a second bill.

Day 2

$1.75bn

Verdict: Kill

Quibi

Premium TV in ten-minute chunks, phone only, launched the week the world stopped commuting. Dead in six months.

Day 3

$120M

Verdict: Kill

Juicero

A $400 WiFi juicer. Then a reporter squeezed the same packs faster with bare hands.

Day 4

$1,500

Verdict: Kill

Google Glass

A camera on your face. Built entirely for the wearer, never for the stranger it pointed at. They called you a Glasshole.

Day 5

$199

Verdict: Kill

Rabbit R1

A bright orange AI gadget that, within days, turned out to be an app wearing a plastic body.

Day 6

The hype

Verdict: Kill

The Segway

It would redesign cities. It became the thing mall security guards ride. Amazing technology mistaken for a product people need.

Day 7

9 months

Verdict: Kill

Pets.com

A beloved mascot and a Super Bowl ad, losing money on every order. IPO to shutdown in about nine months.

Your idea

Get the verdict before the obituary.

Roast mine

Who is in the room

Six voices. None of them on your side.

The Wrecking Ball

Swings straight at the weakest joint and keeps swinging until something cracks, then tells you exactly how the whole thing comes down.

Has never met an idea it could not dent.

The Dreamer With A Calculator

Ignores the problems for one minute and asks the fun question: if this actually works, how big does it get? Then spots the bigger prize you walked past.

The only one in the room still allowed to dream.

The Toddler

Asks "but why?" about every assumption you borrowed without checking, until they all fall over. Deeply annoying. Almost always right.

Refuses to accept "that is just how it is done."

The Receipts

No vibes, no opinions. Goes to the live web and comes back with real prices, real rivals, and the free thing that already does what you do.

Slides the printout across the table and waits.

The Wallet

Your actual customer. Busy, skint, unimpressed, deciding in three seconds whether to pay or keep scrolling. Tells you to your face.

Money makes people painfully honest.

The Final Word

Reads the whole brawl, immune to your charm and your dreams, and rules: build it, reshape it, or kill it. Then hands you the cheapest way to find out for sure.

Bangs the gavel. Court is adjourned.

The first roasts open soon

Put your idea in front of the council.

Tell me the idea, the launch, the pricing, or the business you are a little too in love with. I will run it through the council and send you the verdict. No flattery. That is the whole point.

No spam. No flattery. You will hear back as the roasts open.