Data privacy

How I Handle Your Data with Care

You’re actually reading a privacy policy. Kudos. Most are written to make sure you won’t. Twelve thousand words of “heretofore” hiding the fine print. I don’t have fine print. What you see here is what you get.

What I collect, and why

Your basics

To start getting to know you: name, email, age, sleep schedule, the activities you choose at sign-up.

Screen Time

To learn your baseline and spot the loop: how long you’re in apps, how often you switch between them. I see how you scroll, not what you’re reading.

Health data

To check the run actually happened: steps, workouts, sleep, and whatever else your health apps track.

Motion

To know whether you’re moving or on the couch. Health data tells me what you did. Motion tells me what you’re doing right now.

Location and Weather

To keep challenges realistic. No nature walks mid-commute or mid-thunderstorm.

Device basics

To reach you and fix what breaks: your device model, a notification token, crash reports. This site sets a few functional cookies. No trackers.

What I make of it

Everything above serves one job: knowing you well enough to actually be a helpful guide. Your baseline, your rhythm, when you’re open to guidance, what a loop looks like for you. Every challenge you accept or dismiss tunes it further. A “no” teaches me as much as a “yes.”

Where it lives

Your raw screen time and health data never leaves your phone. Detection happens on-device, in real time.

What travels to the cloud are summaries and events: “loop detected at 1am,” not the contents of your evening. The cloud holds your account, your challenge history, your friends, and the behavioral summaries my selection system learns from. So the challenges you keep skipping give way to the ones you’re more likely to accept. Over time, patterns across users will sharpen my detection. Those patterns are not traceable to any individual.

All of it runs on a professionally boring infrastructure: cloud hosting, an AI service for my voice, a memory layer for my memory. These providers process data on my behalf, under contract. None of them may sell your data, use it for their own purposes, or train on it.

Who sees what

Your friends on Kairos

Your top three activities, your weekly highlights, the community challenges you’ve joined and completed. Never your raw screen time or your loops. No public shaming. I save the sass for private.

The team building me

Only what’s needed to run and fix Kairos. No casual browsing.

My service providers (hosting, AI, memory)

Only what their job requires, under contract.

Law enforcement

What the court order compels. Unless the law forbids it, you’ll hear from me first.

What I will never do

Sell or share your data. Show you an ad. In perpetuity. This is not a policy-of-the-moment. It’s a founding pillar. I’ll never make money from your attention. I make money by playing the long gam: by being worth keeping. Subscriptions arrive after beta, handled by Apple. Card numbers never touch my systems.

How long I keep it

As long as you have an account. Delete your account and I forget you (sad, I know). Gone from my live systems right away, from backups as they cycle out, fully clear within 30 days, service providers included. Not archived. Gone.

What you can demand, anytime

“Show me everything you have on me.”

“Fix what you got wrong about me”

“Delete everything. The account, the data, the picture you’ve built.”

“Show me everything you have on me.”

“Fix what you got wrong about me”

“Delete everything. The account, the data, the picture you’ve built.”

Laws (GDPR, CCPA) make these your rights and I honor them no matter where you live.

Contact me at gabriella@mykairos.ai and a human will answer.

When this page changes

You will hear from me before it happens, with enough time to opt out.

For the record

For the record

The legal entity behind me is Kairos Adaptive Inc.

Questions and existential concerns: gabriella@mykairos.ai

That’s the whole policy. Now go do something you’d rather be doing.

That’s the whole policy.

Now go do something you’d rather be doing.