The Roast Council

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

Six brutal voices tear your idea apart, find the fatal flaw, and hand you a straight verdict: green light, reshape, or kill.

Better you hear it from us now than from the market later.

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.

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.

Where this is going

Today, your idea. One day, every decision.

Right now the council roasts ideas by hand, one at a time, because the verdict has to be right before it is fast. That is the whole product: a verdict you can trust, not a quicker way to be flattered.

The plan is simple. Everyone deserves one voice that refuses to lie to them. A standing council that remembers what you decided, and why, and holds you to it. The honest one, in your corner, for every call that matters. We are starting with ideas. We are building toward that.

The council, specialised

The first specialist council examines doctorates.

Same method, one room. It reads the candidate's entire thesis, the research they built on, and their real examiners' published work. Then it examines them one hostile question at a time, refuses to let a vague answer pass, remembers every soft spot, and hands back a readiness report with the five questions they must drill.

Four formats: the UK viva voce, the US committee defense, the European opponent duel, and the international panel. A human mock viva costs a few hundred pounds and pulls its punches twice. This one does not pull them at all.

We are pre-launch. The examination room is not open yet. Register your interest and you will hear the day it opens, with the founding price.

We are pre-launch

Be there when the council opens.

The council is not open yet. Leave your email and you will hear the day it is, before anyone else. No flattery then either. That is the whole point.

No spam. One email, the day the council opens.