Remind is a pair of gentle AI glasses, prescribed by a doctor, for people living with dementia. They quietly hold on to the day, the faces, the visits, the small moments, and give it back whenever it slips away.
● Prescription-only · Family-approved recognition · Everything private is redacted on-device
The thesis
For forty years, medicine has treated dementia as a biology problem and spent billions trying to slow a disease it cannot yet stop. More than 99% of Alzheimer's drug trials have failed. Meanwhile, almost nothing has been spent on the thing families actually lose: not facts, but the person, the recognition, the conversations, the shared days.
Our first-principles insight is that identity does not live only in neurons. It lives partly in the world, in faces named, days remembered, stories retold. And the part that lives in the world can be captured, held, and given back. The disease and the loss of self can be decoupled. One does not have to mean the other. That is what Remind is: not a treatment for the biology, but a prosthetic for the self.
We built prosthetics for every part of the body. Each sounded impossible, then became inevitable. The self was next.
Interactive prototype
This is what the wearer sees. Pick a moment from a real day, the glasses do the remembering, so they don't have to.
Recognition, softly. When a face the family has approved comes close, Remind quietly says who it is and shares a recent memory together, so every hello can start with warmth instead of worry.
Daily rhythm
The doctor and family set a daily rhythm once. Remind wakes up when they do, rests when they do, and never records outside those hours.
What Remind does
On the schedule the family sets, Remind records the day and turns it into a warm evening recap, so nothing lovely is lost, even when it's forgotten.
Family-approved recognition whispers who's who: "This is your father." Familiarity scores help doctors see recognition changing over time.
Doctors and family can send gentle notes and suggestions that appear at the right moment, never as an interruption, always as a kindness.
Remind is set up by a registered clinician with the family, calibrated to the person's stage and needs, a medical companion, not a gadget.
Clinicians see how the person is really doing between visits, recognition, routine, mood signals, instead of a guess every six months.
Anything sensitive, documents, screens, bathrooms, strangers, is redacted on the glasses themselves, before a single byte leaves.
Beyond memory
Reminders and recognition help with today. These are the capabilities that change what a dementia diagnosis means.
From natural speech alone, pauses, word-finding, sentence shape, Remind charts cognition day by day. Doctors see decline months before a clinic test could, and see exactly what's working. The six-month checkup becomes a continuous signal.
If they wander and the world stops making sense, Remind notices the disorientation first, then quietly walks them home, one gentle arrow and one familiar landmark at a time, while the family is notified. Getting lost stops being dangerous.
Agitation and sundowning have patterns. When one begins, Remind responds with what neuroscience says actually reaches them, their daughter's recorded voice, the song from their wedding, a loved photo, before distress becomes crisis.
Remind notices which faces and stories are starting to slip, and gently rehearses them at the moments spaced-repetition science says they'll stick. It doesn't just compensate for forgetting, it actively slows it.
The hardest moments happen at 3am. If they're up and disoriented, a calm, familiar voice explains where they are and guides them back to bed, and the family sleeps, knowing someone is watching with love.
Every recognized moment, every told story, every laugh is preserved as a private family archive, so even as the disease advances, nothing it touches is truly lost. The person is kept, for them and for everyone who loves them.
For every journey
Dementia isn't one disease, and it isn't one moment, it's a long road that keeps changing. Remind is prescribed for all of its forms, and it changes as the person changes.
Barely noticeable. The evening recap, the Memory Gym, and a subtle nudge only when something's missed. The wearer holds every privacy choice themselves, and Cognitive Weather quietly learns their healthy baseline, so change is caught the moment it begins.
Names whispered as faces appear, gentle guidance through the day, the Calm Protocol for hard moments, Waypoint if the world stops making sense outside. The family joins the review queue, and the doctor watches the trends between visits.
One familiar voice, short and warm. Night Guard for the 3am hours, safety alerts for the family, comfort through their music and their people's voices. Less information, more reassurance, dignity, kept to the end.
Every form of dementia, one pair of glasses, tap a diagnosis:
Every form takes something different first, memory, language, vision, movement, judgment. The clinician sets Remind's care profile to the diagnosis, and when the diagnosis is uncertain, Remind starts neutral and lets the data reveal the pattern.
Under the hood
Follow a single moment, from light hitting the lens to a memory returned. Tap any stage of the pipeline.
Tap a stage to follow a moment through the pipeline, ice is the raw signal that never leaves the frames; coral is redacted, encrypted meaning.
A dedicated 14 TOPS neural processor in the temple runs redaction, recognition, and transcription locally. The cloud never sees a single raw frame, by architecture, not policy.
Faces are matched as 512-d mathematical signatures against the family-consented gallery. A face becomes a name and a memory, the image itself is already gone.
A multimodal model turns the day's redacted events into the evening recap, warm, specific, in plain words, and answers "who is this?" in under 300 ms. Every moment lives as an embedding in MongoDB Atlas, and vector search finds the right memory of a life in milliseconds.
Pause length, word-finding, sentence complexity, validated speech biomarkers tracked daily against the wearer's own baseline. Decline shows up here months before a clinic test.
Bone-conduction audio only the wearer hears, plus a soft in-lens glow for names and arrows. Nothing to learn, nothing to operate, it speaks like a kind companion.
The schedule gate keeps compute asleep outside waking hours, so one charge covers 16 h, and it charges on the nightstand while they sleep, like they do.
Privacy first, always
Remind exists for one person: the wearer. Not for data, not for advertisers, not for anyone else.
Every frame is processed on the glasses first. What's private is erased there, before storage, before the AI, before anything. What remains belongs to the wearer and the people they've chosen.
The family can see everything Remind keeps, and delete any of it, forever, at any time.
3 moments waiting · nothing is shared until you choose
For clinicians
Dementia is assessed in 30-minute snapshots, months apart. Remind gives you the whole story, how recognition, routine, and mood are really trending, and lets you reach your patient with a gentle word any day.
You're on the list. We'll be in touch as the Remind prototype program opens, and your patients will be glad you were early.
The horizon
A prototype is a week. The idea is a century. This is the road, if it works.
The prototype reaches its first clinics. A hundred families. The first evening recaps, the first "this is your daughter," the first evidence that dignity can be prescribed.
Cognitive Weather baselines run quietly in ordinary glasses. Speech becomes the standard early test for cognition, cheap, continuous, personal. Decline is caught when it begins, not when it's undeniable. The review-queue becomes the privacy model wearable health was waiting for.
The largest consented, longitudinal record of human cognition ever assembled, anonymized, family-owned, open to science. The early-stage data that four decades of failed drug trials have been missing finally exists. Research stops guessing at the beginning of the disease.
The memory prosthetic generalizes: stroke recovery, brain injury, aging itself. Externalized identity becomes a normal part of being human, like glasses for the eyes once were. A civilization that no longer loses its people twice: once to the disease, and once to the forgetting.