Sketch is the
second brain of your company.

Known means: every person, client, project, and promise exists as a record a machine can reason over — so your AI never starts from zero. The term is 90 years old and almost everyone who used it built the cabinet, not the brain. The full history →

The model is Claude — identical for every company on earth, so it can't be anyone's edge. The engineering problem is everything around it: a memory that fills itself, reflexes that fire without prompting, and rules learned from real mistakes. That's the build. By the end of this page, you'll see the whole brain assembled.

IT FILES ITSELF · OR GRAB A CARD AND THROW IT

Each record is captured as-is, from the tool that owns it — chat, meetings, boards, CRM, docs. The SharePoint-era wikis died because staying current cost human filing effort. That constraint is gone: the librarian reads everything itself, so the catalogue stops rotting when people stop filing.

Not a pile of documents — a map of your company. One card per real thing: a person, a client, a project, a promise. And the cards hold hands: Meera works at Juniper, Juniper owns the redesign, the redesign carries a promise. A question walks the edges and reads all your tools at once.

• Entities, not documents. The unit of memory is the real-world thing, not the file it was mentioned in.
• Edges are the answers. "Where does Juniper stand?" is a walk, not a search.
• The graph is inspectable. Open any card, see every fact, see every receipt.

Our early pipeline extracted freely. It invented a company called "Gmail" — 57 people had gmail addresses — and gave a 3-product client 203 products. The rebuild is the actual technology: facts enter only when a structured tool vouches for them, the model is spent only on what no tool wrote down, and every fact keeps its receipt. Ask any answer "says who?" and it points to the exact message.

To every tool you own those are three strangers. The graph cross-references the evidence — shared threads, signatures, who replies to whom — and resolves one person. From then on every message, call, and promise lands on her one card. And it is careful by design: two similar names stay two people, because one wrong merge poisons every answer about both.

The words never match — the cast does. When the same people keep showing up around a thing, it's the same thing. Text similarity can't see that; the room can. Here is the real one it did to us:

Five spellings, one node. Nobody told it. So you can ask in your words — "the pricing thing" — and land on the right project with its whole history.

Identity lives in the graph and rarely changes. Status lives on timelines clipped to each card and never stops. The map never shakes; the news never goes stale. Answers are about now.

Nature solved this design long ago: reflexes don't route through the expensive brain. Your blink never consults your genius. Sketch runs the same split — and this is why the automations actually work at company scale:

And every mistake either lane ever made is now a written rule the system cannot break again — about 80 rules, each with a name, a reason, and the incident that created it. Learning you can open and read.

Our founder thought the decision through with a frontier model. First it gave good general counsel — knowledge of the world, rentable by anyone. Then it sat down at Sketch's reading desk and pulled our complete history with one prospect: the first demo call in March, a WhatsApp half-promise from ten days earlier, an open pull request — in under a minute. The advice stopped being general wisdom and became: you made this person a commitment, address it. Same model, same conversation. It didn't get smarter. It got informed — by the part of the brain we had to build, because nobody would rent it to us.