The bliq team
Your data, your call
An assistant for your life has to know things about your life. Here is exactly what bliq keeps, what it will never do with it, and how to delete any of it.
From advice to action
Booking the table, ordering the gift, tracking the flight — and the rule that anything spending your money or speaking in your name stops and asks first.
The bliq team
bliq
Ask most assistants to sort out dinner on Friday and you will get a very good answer about dinner on Friday. Five restaurants, a note on which has the better wine list, a suggestion to book early because it fills up.
You still do not have a table.
Advice is the easy half
The gap between "here is what you should do" and "it is done" is where all the actual friction lives. It is the phone call at an awkward hour, the account you have to log into, the form, the confirmation code, the follow-up when nobody replies.
Advice costs the assistant nothing. It also saves you almost nothing, because the two minutes of thinking were never the expensive part.
A recommendation is a to-do list you did not ask for.
So bliq closes it. You say what you want the way you would say it to a friend, and the thing happens.
What "does it" means in practice
The things people actually hand over, roughly in order of how often:
- Reservations. Restaurants, haircuts, the dentist, the garage.
- Ordering. Gifts, groceries, the specific replacement part for the specific broken thing.
- Appointments. Booking them, moving them, cancelling them when the day falls apart.
- Travel. Watching a flight, catching the change before the airline gets round to telling you, rearranging what the change broke.
- Chasing. The refund that has not arrived. The reply that never came.
None of it is glamorous. All of it is the residue of a normal life, and it is genuinely nice to stop carrying it.
The rule about asking
Here is the part we thought hardest about.
An assistant that can spend your money and speak in your name is a serious thing to build. The failure mode is not that it books the wrong restaurant — it is that you stop being able to predict what it will do, and then you cannot trust it with anything.
So there is a rule, and it has no exceptions:
Anything that spends your money, or speaks to another person as you, stops and asks first.
When it asks, it tells you what it is about to do, what it will cost, and what happens if you change your mind. Not a vague "shall I proceed?" — the actual table, the actual time, the actual cancellation window.
Everything on the other side of that line it just gets on with:
| Asks first | Just does it |
|---|---|
| Booking a table in your name | Checking whether the table exists |
| Placing an order | Finding the thing and the price |
| Cancelling a reservation | Watching a flight for changes |
| Messaging someone as you | Reminding you that someone is waiting |
| Anything with a card attached | Reading, checking, comparing, tracking |
The dividing line is simple to state and, we think, simple to hold in your head: it can look at anything, and it commits to nothing without you.
You can stop it
Mid-action, after the fact, whenever. "Cancel that" works the way you would expect, and if something has already gone through, it tells you plainly rather than quietly failing.
There is no clever phrasing that unlocks better behaviour and none that unlocks worse. If you can send a text message, you have the full interface.
Why this is the point
Memory is what makes it feel like it knows you. Speaking first is what makes it feel present. But doing the thing is what makes it worth having on your phone.
Everything else is a very good conversation about your life. This is the part where your life gets shorter by a few small errands.
Let bliq handle the rest.
It knows you, checks in on you, and quietly gets the small things done. On iPhone today.
