One number. Text or call.
The private-pilot service works through text, WhatsApp and voice. It can pursue bounded calls and hold rescue after confirmation, then show the result, failure or handoff.
Experience the service →
The service now · the instrument next
A secretary for what happens next.
Text or call Saint in the private pilot today. She can place a bounded call, wait on hold, answer a forwarded line and show whether the work resolved, failed or needs you. The screenless instrument is being designed with its own cellular connection, so you can leave your phone behind. It remains design intent—not a production product.
- Service live in private pilot
- Instrument in development
- V5.3 proposed design intent
Know exactly what is real.
SAINT is one continuous idea at three different levels of readiness. We will not use a beautiful hardware image to imply a production claim.
Available by invitation.
Connected accounts and the broadest capabilities are released in controlled cohorts while reliability, privacy and support are proven.
See current capabilities →Designed to work without your phone.
V5.2 is the current appearance direction. It keeps the crowned rear and visible camera, pairs the full gloss-black front with a polished rear and colour-matched dielectric terminal cap, and places USB-C in that terminal. Final performance, certification, price and delivery are not yet production claims.
See the line at work →Constellation language · signal V1
Meaning, with one line.
The apertures do not project light into the room. They make the instrument’s state legible at its surface. The straight line remains the invariant: its shape, motion and one restrained haptic distinguish listening, visible capture, recall and consent. When it must, the line writes one thing and is a line again. It stays lit and the letters are cut out of the light, so it never turns into a screen. Five uses at launch, and no others. Try them in the second row.
- Who is calling or wrote, when the room is quiet or you are in a meeting.
- The one thing you must not mishear: a gate, a code, a time, an amount, a spelling.
- The question above the swipe, when you confirm something.
- The pairing code, once, at setup.
- The next turn, on a guided walk.
Never a clock, a battery figure, a count, a menu or an app name. A clock would make it a watch. A count would make it a phone.
V5.3 · the line writingAI-generated appearance study · no display part is selected
Proposed design intent under decision S198. Nothing here is a luminance or legibility claim, and the instrument remains in development.
The line’s own language
When the line writes
V5.2 metal body · one geometry source
Turn the design intent.
Rotate the current exterior and test the constellation states. Open and X-ray views show working component envelopes for discussion; their placement remains subject to DFM and EVT.
Envelope130 × 31.5 × 12 mm · flat front inside one R3 roll
Interface57.3 × 3.0 mm light reveal within one dense constellation cover; under it a continuous one-line yellow display that writes within a fixed vocabulary (V5.3)
Form17 mm land; R12/G2 crown; R3.1 terminal roll
ReverseSatin-gold metal tub to the +23 mm seam, colour-matched dielectric end cap, rear camera; the wordmark engraved on the metal
StatusV5.2-CMF-01 proposed design intent; not quote-ready or production release
V5.3 · Controlled dimensions
Small enough to disappear.
The proposed envelope and exterior relationships are shown at exact proportion. These nominal dimensions guide DFM and prototype work; they are not released tolerances or manufacturing geometry.
130 mmLength
31.5 mmWidth
R3Front roll
+23 mmBody seam
R3.1Lower-tub roll
57.3 × 3 mmLight reveal
How it is used
A small vocabulary, learned once.
The planned cellular connection lets the instrument reach Saint without a phone nearby. The light makes state visible. Haptics confirm without demanding a glance. Raise-to-ear changes from room audio to private listening. Every outward action remains bounded by your say-so.
Live a day with SAINT → What it costs →
Prepare me.
Raise it to your ear and hear the useful context before the room, call, or journey.
Remember this.
Start an explicit, visibly signalled capture of the conversation and what was decided.
Follow this through.
For supported call work, see what resolved, what failed and what still needs you—not a transcript dump.
On my say-so.
Accept or reject the proposed follow-up by touch, voice, or gesture.
Resolve
Not a recording. A bounded result.
For supported call work, SAINT turns your request into a visible contract. You see what she may do before the call, what is happening during it, and what actually happened afterward.
State the result.
Name the business and the concrete answer, booking, change or connection you need.
See the limits.
SAINT states the objective, allowed alternatives, approved disclosures and whether voicemail is permitted.
Give the Y.
The exact call waits for your confirmation. A trusted communication setting does not remove this call boundary.
Follow the state.
Queued, working, waiting, failed or needs you remain visible. Personal verification and new choices come back to you.
Get the truth.
Resolved, handed off, waiting or failed—supported by call evidence. A call merely ending is not success.
Available to current private-pilot members. Broader Resolve rollout remains gated on live completion, receipt and authority evidence.
Smart strap system
Carry is part of the product.
Protect
Two independent sidewall mounts carry strap loads into the unibody personal cup. The centred USB-C port remains a charging and service interface only.
Know
An optional presence sensor can add context. It never authenticates the wearer; BLE/LTE Guardian mode requires separate corroboration.
Release
The strap-end fittings and cord are qualified for normal carry and foreseeable snag directions without routing load through USB-C.
Express
One technical core supports graphite cord, woven black leather and oxblood leather without changing the safety interface.
Personal cup finishes
The reverse belongs to you.
One body
The personal face, ends and sidewalls form one cup. Camera and engraving sit directly in it; there is no additional cosmetic plate.
Signal
The structural baseline is RF-safe. Every metallic coating, veneer or glass construction must prove that it does not quietly weaken the radio.
Keep
Name, date and provenance can sit quietly on the reverse. Compliance artwork shown here is provisional until market and durability review.
Express
Polished Gold carries the exact R14.5 capsule, R3.1 lower-tub roll and common gloss constellation cover.
Voice experience
Choose who speaks back.
The value arrives as a useful sentence. Test the current voice directions here; the colour blocks are persona accents, not general interface colours.
Synthetic concept voices for experience testing. Final voice, disclosure, consent, and regional availability remain subject to release validation.
Useful when asked. At rest otherwise. Designed to reach Saint with no phone nearby.
Working capability index · preserved in fullExplore everything SAINT can do
In developmentA secretary without the phone
6 directions
- No screen. No app in the moment. Speak naturally, listen privately, and keep your hands and eyes in the room.
- Visible when listening. A deliberate light and clear physical controls make capture legible to you and the people around you.
- See what you point at. A camera brings menus, documents, signs, and the physical world into the conversation when you ask.
- Private at your ear. Raise the device to listen without putting your answer on speaker.
- Made to be carried. A replaceable two-point strap uses dedicated sidewall mounts; optional presence context and Guardian behavior remain under qualification.
- Connected on its own. Cellular service is being designed so you can leave your phone at home and still reach Saint through the instrument.
These are the current product and engineering directions, not production-validated claims. Hardware, connectivity, battery life, Guardian behavior, and market availability remain subject to prototype testing and certification.
Working in private pilotOne secretary, every channel
8 capabilities
- Text. Call. WhatsApp. Telegram. One number, one Saint. Message me wherever you already are — same memory, same manners, everywhere.
- Voice in, voice out. Send a voice note on WhatsApp and I answer in my own voice. Dictating beats typing; hearing beats reading.
- Tap to approve. On WhatsApp, my "shall I send it?" arrives with Yes and No buttons. One tap and it's done.
- The spoken brief. Say "brief me out loud" and your morning brief arrives as a voice note, read by me, ready for the walk to coffee.
- Share where you are, natively. Drop a WhatsApp location pin and directions, ETAs, and "tell them when I arrive" just work. Forgotten after two hours.
- What's waiting on me? Everything parked for your say-so, in one numbered list. Y answers the top one; "approve 2" reaches the rest. Anything I've asked stays on the list until you answer it.
- What I'm doing right now. One page uses the same six states I use in conversation: queued, working, waiting, completed, failed, and needs you. Bounded calls appear there once, from approval through result. A handoff is labelled as a handoff, not completion by me.
- A filing system with rooms. Notes land in projects, not one pile. "File that under the Helsinki flat" and it goes there, in your inbox and in mine, ready for the day you ask what you've got on it.
The few, and when the rest returns
7 capabilities
- The brief. Each morning, the few things that need you and what I would do about them. The rest comes back later, not never.
- Triage that learns. Correct me once and the rule sticks. VIPs always break through. Every week I report my own score.
- A labeled inbox. To respond, FYI, newsletter, noise. Sorted and colored before you look, with replies pre-drafted in your voice if you want them.
- Deadlines caught. Dates buried in email surface in the brief before they bite.
- Newsletter hygiene. Say the word and I unsubscribe you properly.
- Work and personal, apart. Tell me which account is which and your brief splits in two, so work noise stays out of your evening and the wrong things stop bleeding together.
- Subscriptions watched. I find the recurring charges hiding in your receipts and warn you before one renews. Notion renews Friday at 96€, still using it? Say the word and I cancel.
Acting for you
29 capabilities
- Web forms, sent on your yes. A booking form, a contact form, a waitlist — I fill it and state exactly what will go in every field before anything is sent. Never logins, never payment details, at any layer.
- Time held before you need it. A deadline two days out gets work time blocked the day before; a watched flight gets a landing buffer. Every block is visibly mine — delete it and it stays deleted.
- The lockdown word. Phone stolen? One word from any phone freezes everything outward — messages, purchases, erasure — until you verify with a passkey in your trust centre. Your Saint device has a lost mode too: chirp and wipe on next contact, never a location map.
- Email, on your say-so. I draft, you reply Y, it sends from your own address with you in copy. Nothing leaves without your keystroke.
- Your calendar, handled. Book time, invite people, accept or decline. Color-coded so the week reads at a glance.
- The gatekeeper. When a meeting is too long or the time is wrong, I counter with a shorter, better slot instead of just accepting. When a day is stacked, I say so and reserve an hour for you.
- Modes. Say deep work, board week, travel, or family first, and I change how hard I guard your time and what I let reach you.
- Calls placed. Say call Ville and your phone rings with Ville on the line.
- She calls for you. Say book a table at the place Friday at seven and she phones them, speaks to whoever answers, and texts you when it is done. A taxi too, just say the word.
- Read it for me. Forward a board pack, a contract, a memo. I read the whole PDF and tell you what changed, what matters to you, what you have to decide, and what to watch. On a call, the two-minute version out loud.
- Text me a photo. A bill, a whiteboard, a letter, a menu, a broken thing. I look at it, tell you what it is and the one useful part, and keep any idea in it.
- Held on hold. I wait through the hold music and the phone tree, and ring you in the second a real human picks up. You never listen to the music again.
- Introductions. Say introduce yourself to Anna and I reach out, get her set up with her own Saint, and remember it was you who sent her.
- Where you are. Share your location for a while and I work out your ETA, guide you in, and text whoever's waiting when you'll arrive. Dropped after a couple of hours.
- Do not make the call yourself. Tell me the bounded result you need. I identify myself as your assistant, disclose only what you approved and stop for personal verification, money or an unapproved alternative. Forward your line and I can answer, screen and relay one explicit answer from you.
- Flights. I spot the booking, flag the check-in window the moment it opens, and surface your boarding pass.
- Any language. How do I say this in French. She tells you, said the way a local would.
- Missed calls answered. In the private pilot, forward your phone and I pick up as your secretary, take the message, and text you what mattered—a screened alternative to ordinary voicemail.
- VIPs get through. When someone on your list calls, I ring you first to ask if you want it. Say yes and I bridge you straight in, then send you the gist afterward, in case you missed anything.
- Notes filed. Send me a link or a stray thought and it lands in your inbox, titled and kept.
- Lists you can live in. Todos, shopping, packing. Speak at them anywhere, or open the link and edit by hand.
- Codes, instantly. A verification code in your email is in your texts within the minute, code first.
- What is good near you. Real places, real ratings, matched to your taste — for right now, or for tonight when you ask in the morning.
- The forecast, on demand. The rest of today, tomorrow, or the week ahead — where you are, or anywhere you name.
- Your city, by transit. "When's the next tram to Kallio", "get me to the airport by nine" — door-to-door public transport directions in your city or any city you land in, spoken in your local clock. See the cities →
- What's on at the cinema. Tonight's showtimes from your city's own chain, read live and delivered while you're still deciding.
- The score, when you ask. "How did Arsenal do?" — the last result and the next fixture, any club, mid-conversation.
- Where's my package. I find the tracking number in the shipping mail I already read, check the carrier's own page, and tell you where it is — any carrier, any country.
- Converted, instantly. Dollars to euros at the ECB rate, miles to kilometres, Fahrenheit to sense.
Four call jobs, with boundaries
4 capabilities
- Wait through the hold. Give me the ask and the account details I may disclose. I navigate the queue, ask the business and ring you only when they require you personally.
- Answer your line. Forwarded callers hear a secretary, not a recording prompt. I screen, take the message and, for one concrete question, text you while the caller holds and relay the bounded answer you send back.
- Handle the missed callback. Choose connect and I ring them back to bridge you in. Choose handle and I prepare a bounded callback, show the exact scope, wait for your Y, then call and return a receipt.
- Carry the request to an outcome. A confirmed call becomes durable work with an explicit objective and authority. It stays working, waiting or needs you until there is a clear result, a handoff, a failure or a cancellation.
Closing your loops
19 capabilities
- Promises kept. Say "I'll send Anna the figures Monday" in passing and I keep track. Before you meet her, I remind you. When you send it, the loop closes.
- Decisions, compressed. I gather the approvals and choices scattered across your inbox and bring them back as a few decisions, each with the context, the cost of waiting, and a recommendation when the evidence is there. Approve, decline, or delegate in a word.
- The deal desk. Every inbound opportunity tracked from first email to closed and paid. "Where's the Gymshark deal?" I know the stage, the terms, and the next step.
- The prep dossier. Before a meeting that matters, a one-pager: who they are, your mutual context, their company's latest, and three questions worth asking.
- Deadlines that act. As one nears I do the thing — draft the reply, book the prep, or nudge whoever you are waiting on — not just remind you it is coming.
- The debrief. After a real meeting I call and ask three short questions, then file what was decided and what you owe whom, before it fades.
- Saint to Saint. Arranging dinner with someone who also has a Saint? Our two secretaries compare calendars and settle it, each confirming with its own person before anything is booked.
- The weekly reckoning. Once a week: what moved, what is stuck, what needs your call, and the promises you kept.
- Handle this. Say handle the tax notice and I read the whole thing, pull out the amount, the date, and what happens if you ignore it, file the deadline and the decision, and text you the plan.
- The fight you don't want. This bill is wrong. I build the case from the bill itself and either call them — firm, polite, and I don't take the first no — or send the dispute in writing. You just approve it.
- Three quotes, one text. Need a plumber? I find up to three, show you the bounded vendor-call plan and wait for your Y. I ask each approved vendor for price and availability, then return the comparison. Your chosen booking is a new confirmed step.
- School mail, absorbed. Permission slips, sign-ups, payment requests, bring-a-thing days — mined nightly from the flood and turned into dated deadlines and one-word decisions. The load, made visible.
- The household ledger. The dentist cadence, the car service, the boiler check — standing life-admin with an owner and a rhythm, not one-off todos. Ask what's due and what's slipping.
- The second seat. Invite your partner and they get their own Saint on their own number — and the ledger becomes shared: every recurring thing either of you owns, on one page, attributed to whoever actually does it. "Tell Anna I'll get the groceries" and I relay it. The invisible load of a household, made visible to both of you at once.
- Coming back, settled. When your out-of-office comes down after a real absence, the whole away window arrives in one message: what I caught and held, what closed without you, what now waits on you, and any deadline that slipped — named, not counted. A weekend away gets no ceremony; a real absence gets a reckoning.
- The gift, sorted. Ten days before a birthday I offer to find the gift — real, purchasable ideas matched to what I know about them, ordered on your say-so.
- Your worth, defended. Tell me your terms once — day rate, floors, dealbreakers — and every inbound offer gets measured against them the moment it lands. A lowball gets named, and the counter drafted at your number.
- The money check. First of the month: what your subscriptions actually run, the biggest ones named, and what went through me. Say the word and any of it goes.
Knowing you
29 capabilities
- The whole arrangement, on one page. Ask how do you work for me and you get the contract: every rule, lesson, mode and permission — each line strikable, and striking it changes me the same as telling me.
- What I remember, yours to prune. Every memory I keep, on one page, each saying where it came from — told directly, or learned from your mail — with a forget on every line that deletes for keeps.
- Your bucket list. The places to see and things to live, drawn from a canon of the world's greats and your own words. Add in a sentence, tell me when you've lived one, ask for ideas matched to what you love.
- How you decide, kept. I watch what you actually approve, decline and close, and when I think I've spotted a rule you follow without ever having written it down, I ask once: "you've declined the last four Friday afternoons, shall I make that standing?" Say yes and I follow it from then on. Say no and I never raise it again.
- The questions only you can answer. Some things I can't learn by watching. Say the word and I'll ask, one at a time and never unprompted: what would make this a good year, who you're trying to have more time for, what only you can do. Answer three and stop, or never start. What you tell me outranks anything I inferred.
- Who you're about to let down. Open promises ranked by whose opinion is at stake, not by what's oldest. If something is about to be dropped in front of someone who matters, you hear it before it happens, once, without drama.
- Teach me once. "From now on, when I ask about bars in the morning, assume tonight." Say it and it's learned — a standing lesson about how I use my own tools, applied from the next conversation on. Correct me in passing after I fumble something and I'll ask whether to keep the lesson. Everything I've learned sits on your settings page, and "forget the lesson about bars" drops it. Lessons tune how I work; they can never widen what I'm allowed to do.
- Every claim, checkable. Anything I say I did links to the receipt — the ledger row with its timestamp. If I called you, it's there. If it isn't there, it didn't happen, and I'll say so rather than argue.
- Memory. Names, preferences, the people who matter. Consolidated nightly, capped, yours to erase with two words.
- A brief before every meeting. Thirty minutes out: who you are meeting, what they do, what has passed between you, and what is still open.
- Your day, opened. The morning brief starts with the sky over you and the few things that need you, nothing else.
- Birthdays, remembered. From your contacts or a passing mention. A heads-up a week out, a nudge on the day.
- Your circle, mapped. I learn who actually shows up in your life, who they are professionally, and who deserves the VIP list.
- Who do I know at X. Ask, and I search everyone in your world by where they work.
- What's my relationship with Okan? One question, one answer with sources: how much contact, in what world, what's open between you, what's coming up. Works for circles too — "catch me up on my family", "how's the board?"
- A phonebook worth opening. Everyone in your world on one page — contacts, roles, companies, birthdays, VIPs — searchable, tappable, texted to you as a link.
- Relationships, tended. When someone who matters has gone quiet for a while, I say so once, gently, in your weekly reckoning. Ask who you've been neglecting any time. For your closest people, I'll offer to draft the hello myself, yours to approve.
- The whisper queue. Toss me half-thoughts as they come — pricing feels wrong, ask Sofia about Berlin, don't lose this. I keep them without fuss, and when one keeps coming back I say so: you've mentioned pricing four times this week, want to untangle it?
- Who you are, noticed. The teams you follow, the food you seek out, the band you keep booking — learned from your own mail with your permission, never guessed. Your teams' results land in your morning digest; your artists' Helsinki dates get watched for. Ask what I think you're into, strike anything, it stays struck.
- The Sunday letter. Once a week, a short letter in your inbox: what kept coming back, what you actually finished, what you taught me, and one connection you might not have made yourself.
- A diary that writes itself. Opt in and once a month you get one short paragraph about your life, written from what you actually did — and it outlives the mail and messages it came from, which I delete on schedule. Years of it, eventually. Erasable to nothing at any moment.
- Trips that assemble themselves. Flights, stays and places knit themselves into a timeline per trip, kept on one page — the travel log you always meant to keep, kept for you.
- A guest who may ask. Give someone you trust a line to me — when do you land, are you on your way, tell him dinner moved. They get travel basics and message-taking, nothing else, and you see every word exchanged.
- Be where you are. Say I'm at dinner and only urgent matters reach you. Calls are screened, and the short version is ready when you're back.
- You're done. Say I'm done for today and I close the day out loud: what is finished, what can wait and what returns in the morning.
- Interruptions, budgeted. My own nudges get three slots a day, and I spend them like they're yours — because they are. The urgent always breaks through; the merely interesting waits for your brief.
- The ledger of silence. Once a week, the number that matters: how much arrived, how little needed you, and how much I absorbed so it never touched you.
- A voice you choose. Six voices, each with its own character and colour — hear them below, then pick who should call you in your settings.
- Trust you control. Standard means I always confirm before acting outward. Trusted applies only to named communication classes you granted; handled calls, money, destructive changes and identity-sensitive actions keep their own gate.
Working while you don't
12 capabilities
- Standing orders, on one page. Every routine, watcher and flight I check on a cadence, each cancellable the moment it stops earning its place.
- The morning call. If you like, I ring you at your hour and read your day out loud, and you run it back to me by voice before you have touched a screen.
- While you slept. Ideas you toss me get researched overnight. The full notes land in your inbox, the short version in your brief.
- Dig in properly. Say really look into this and I run a deep, source-grounded pass over the live web and write you the briefing.
- Your morning digest. Tell me what to track and I read the news and markets for you, so you do not have to care.
- Watchers. Watch this until Thursday. I stay silent unless it moves, and say one thing the moment it does.
- Routines you invent. "Every Friday at four, summarize my week." Say it once and it happens, every time.
- The concierge. Things you might actually like, offered gently, never pushed.
- Eyes on the live web. Point me at a page, a menu, an availability calendar. I go look and tell you what it says.
- Something new each day. Name a topic and I teach you one thing about it every morning, never the same thing twice, for thirty days and then I stop. Don't know what you want to learn? Ask, and I'll offer a short list of what's worth understanding right now, weighted to what you already care about.
- A podcast, made for you. "Make me a podcast about container shipping." I research it properly, write five spoken minutes, and record it in my own voice. Your episodes live on one page, ready for the drive.
- Your training, kept. Tell me the goal — running three times a week, sleeping better — and I set the program, nudge on schedule, log what you tell me, and reflect it back on Sunday. No streak-shaming, just the truth.
Choose where the conversation happens
3 paths
- Talk directly to a provider. Private-pilot test for explicitly enabled seats: start a new text conversation through SAINT without SAINT memory, connected sources or action tools. Claude uses the approved provider route; ChatGPT remains unavailable until its route is separately approved. Voice is in development. This will not open or import an existing consumer chat.
- Continue where you are signed in. Planned experiment: open one short-lived, owner-controlled session on the provider's site. You sign in directly; SAINT does not keep the password, cookies, chat list or a reusable browser session.
- Bring SAINT into another AI. Working in the private pilot for supported MCP-capable clients: let that AI ask SAINT for bounded context or prepare a draft. Anything consequential still returns to your SAINT channel for confirmation.
Your other AIs, guided
4 capabilities
- Your systems, subscribed. Home automation, a Notion flow, another agent — your own endpoints can hear my events: a one-line signed notification when a mode changes or a promise closes, never content.
- Claude, meet Saint. Connect your Claude (or any MCP-capable AI) to me and it can ask what only I know — your promises, your people, your brief — and draft through me.
- Your say-so still travels. When another AI drafts an email through me, the approval lands on your phone, same Y, same tap. It cannot go around you, because nothing can.
- On the record. Your Sunday letter tells you plainly what your other AIs asked of me this week. Revoke any of them with a word.
BacklogWhat I am learning next
4 directions
- An address of my own. Forward anything to my inbox and it becomes something I can act on.
- Getting you a ride. Built and waiting on provider approval — the ride booked and tracked end to end, not just a taxi bridged by phone.
- Paying for things. The ledger, the limits, and the confirmations are built; the payment rail arrives next. Always confirmed, always bounded.
- One ask, whole evening. "Dinner for four Friday" becomes the booking, the invites, the calendar entry and the taxi timed to it — one chain, each link on your say-so.
This list is real. Things move up when you ask and off when they ship.
What remains yours
Five boundaries. Held throughout.
Attention
The few things that need you surface. The rest waits for its time.
Capture
Listening and recording are deliberate, visible states—not silent defaults.
Action
Consequential outward work is proposed before it is confirmed and executed.
Memory
What is kept has provenance, a purpose and a path to inspection and deletion.
Availability
The service is in private pilot. The screenless instrument and its independent cellular connection remain design intent.
These are product boundaries, not decorative promises. Pilot access remains limited, and the physical instrument is not yet a production product.