Manifesto
On rooms that listen.
Every room you talk in now has a microphone in it. The kitchen has one, the car has one, the phone in your pocket has three. The newest room is the chat box, and it is the one you are most honest in.
People ask a model what they would not ask a friend. The symptom before the doctor. The debt before the partner. The draft of the letter they will never send. The question about the trade they already regret. It is the most candid writing most of us have ever done, and by default all of it is kept: for training, for a reviewer reading transcripts on contract, for the breach, for the subpoena that has not been written yet.
An echo is a copy.
In an ordinary room the walls give your words back to you a moment later. Online the echo is quieter and it lasts: a log line, a transcript, a sample in next year’s dataset, an account that ties all of it to your name and your card.
An anechoic chamber is built the other way. Every surface is lined with wedges that take sound in and give nothing back. You hear your own voice, and then nothing. It is the quietest kind of room there is, and it is what we built for talking to AI.
What the room is made of.
- A signature, not an account. Your wallet signs one line of text. We learn an address; we never ask for a name, an email or a card.
- A relay that copies only what it must. Each request is rebuilt from the messages, the model and its settings. Everything else is left behind, and the rebuilt request goes out under one key that every Hush user shares.
- Two rooms, labelled. Open models can run sealed inside hardware enclaves that publish a signed report anyone can check. Frontier models run at their own providers, reached only through endpoints that retain nothing, and we say plainly that this part is their word, not a proof.
- History you hold. If you keep conversations, your browser locks them with a key that only your wallet can make again. We never receive them.
- One line of arithmetic. What stays on our side after a request is the bill: which model, how many tokens, what it cost.
What we cannot promise.
A provider in the crowded room could be lying about what it keeps; that is why the sealed room exists and why every model says which room it is in. Your own device is yours to guard. A wallet that is linked to your name elsewhere is still linked to your name. Privacy is a set of walls, and we would rather show you where each one stands than tell you the building is safe.
Money that does not ask your name.
Credits are bought with USDC from a wallet, through a program on Solana that anyone can read. It splits each payment in the same transaction: most of it pays for the answers, a tenth goes to the people who stake $HUSH, a tenth buys $HUSH on the market and burns it. No card network decides what adults may ask, and no spreadsheet decides later where the money went.
Where the room ends.
We do not read what you write, and we do not train anything on it. Some providers run their own filters and may refuse a request; a refused request costs nothing. What we will not be is a tool for hurting a real person: children, and people’s bodies used without their consent, are outside the door.
Say what you came to say. The room keeps nothing, and we would like you to check that it is true.
Close the door. Ask.
