Rhythm

Last updated 18 September 2026

Privacy

Rhythm asks a question a day — one for you and a friend, and one for you alone — and keeps your answers private: what you write for a pair is read by that one person and nobody else, and what you write for yourself is read by no person at all. This page says what is collected, what is never shared, and how to stop. The commitments below are the ones the product is built around.

Rhythm runs no advertising, no analytics trackers, and no third-party marketing tools. Nothing about you is sold, at any point, for any amount.

Text messages

Rhythm does not share, sell, rent, or otherwise disclose mobile phone numbers or SMS opt-in consent to anyone. Not to affiliates, not to marketing partners, not to any third party, for any purpose. Your number is used only to send you your own daily question, a reminder that it is ready, or a line saying somebody in your circle started or answered a question with you in it, and to receive your reply. This applies to all text messaging originator opt-in data and consent, and no such information is shared with any third party.

Message frequency: at most one message per day once reminders are on — the day’s question, or a line saying somebody in your circle started or answered a question with you in it. None at all when reminders are off. Plus at most two messages when you first link your number.

Email

Rhythm emails you, at the address you sign in with, when a question is waiting for you and when somebody answers a question with you in it. At most one email in the morning, and one for each answer, capped at six a day. An email carries a name and a link — never a question, and never a word of what anybody wrote. It is on from the start; you can turn it off on your Settings page, and nothing else about Rhythm changes when you do. Rhythm keeps a record of each email — who it went to, what kind, when, and whether the provider took it — and not its text.

Message and data rates may apply. Rhythm does not charge for messages; your mobile carrier’s standard rates do.

Reply STOP to any message to end them immediately, or HELP for help. The full opt-in flow is described at Messaging.

Your replies are never published and never sold. They are private with one exception, which is described in full under what one friend may be shown of your words: when that is switched on, a short piece of something you wrote — at most a dozen words, lifted exactly as you wrote it — may be shown to one friend whose life is converging with yours, at the same moment as a piece of theirs is shown to you. Nothing longer, and nothing to anyone else.

What Rhythm collects

Your gender, if you gave one, is used in one place: when Rhythm writes your questions, so that a scene it puts to you is not pitched wrongly. It is not shown to anyone, and it plays no part in who you are placed near.

That list is meant to be complete. If you find something Rhythm holds that is not on it, that is a mistake worth telling us about.

What Rhythm will never do

How your answers are read

Rhythm has to understand an answer before it can tell whether two lives are converging. It does that with an automated reader, not a person. There are two ways it can do that, and which one is in use is a switch set by the person who runs Rhythm. The first reads an answer into numbers and keeps nothing else. The second, the portrait, also keeps a short description of you in words. Both are described here, so that the switch can be turned on without this page being a day behind.

Instructed is not the same as prevented. The rule about health, mental state and the rest is an instruction to the model, written in plain words. It is not a filter, and no code checks the model’s work against it. For the readings, two things do hold by construction: the model can only return positions on the nine named lines, because anything else it says in a reading is thrown away before it is stored; and no reading is kept except those numbers. What that does not stop is subtler. If you write about your health and the model quietly lets that color where it places you on, say, how full your week is, nothing catches it. The portrait is a different case and is taken up below. The safest thing is not to write about health, or anything else you would not want read, in an answer. Skipping a day is normal and costs you nothing.

If you would rather your answers were not read this way, the way to stop is to stop answering, or to leave, below.

The portrait

When portraits are on, Rhythm keeps a short private description of you in words, and the model that reads your answer updates it. It is at most 300 words, under seven headings: what is going on right now; longings — what you have said you want, miss or ache for; loves — what lights you up; the week; with people; fading, for things that have not come up in a while; and one more, called close, which is private and is described below. Every line carries the date it was said. It is written from your own words, one answer at a time, and the instruction is to keep close to how you said a thing rather than to characterise you. Each update replaces the whole portrait; the previous version is not kept. If the portrait model fails twice on an answer, that answer is read into numbers by the plain reader instead, so a day is never lost.

The portrait is shown to the person who runs Rhythm and to nobody else — except the part under close, which is shown to nobody at all. Not to you, not to your friends, not to anyone Rhythm might introduce you to. Its only other reader is the model that compares two portraits, below.

It may hold hard things you chose to say about your own life. A relationship you are in, including one you want out of; work you like or hate, a job that started or ended; grief, loneliness, a hard stretch, said in your own words; a move, a change of hours, something that ended and left room; a want you have not said out loud anywhere else; and longing — for company, for a person, for being known — as you said it. Those are what a friend would know, and they are what lets Rhythm tell that two lives have room for each other right now. They only ever move where you sit in a circle of friends you chose; the comparison below runs only between friends who have accepted each other, and the portrait plays no part in suggesting anyone new.

The part called close is private. Rhythm does not draw a line between friendship and anything more, and neither does the portrait: a person can find that someone in their circle has started to look different to them, and Rhythm should be able to hear that. So the portrait has a heading for what you want in closeness — romance, desire, sex, being held, being chosen, what draws you to a person, what you would want a relationship to be — and for anyone in your life you find yourself drawn to, described only by what they are and do, never by name. It is written the way the rest is, from what you chose to say, as a disposition in your own words (“wants slow”, “wants to be the one chosen”) and never as a label: the model may not write down an orientation, a type, or a category for you, however plainly an answer implies one. Rhythm never asks a sexual question; the questions are the same ones about your week and your life, and what goes under close is whatever you said back.

What is under close is stored apart from the rest of the portrait, and when the person who runs Rhythm has set a key for it, it is stored as ciphertext and exists in readable form only inside the request that is updating or comparing a portrait. It is never shown on the internal view; the internal view shows only that there is something there. It is read by the model that compares two portraits, like everything else in them, because a longing under close that a friend’s life answers is a longing like any other — but the sentences that model writes about a pair may never describe it. If it informed the comparison, the sentence the person who runs Rhythm sees is “Part of this rests on something private,” and nothing more. It only ever moves where you sit in a circle of friends you chose. It goes when your account goes.

Some things are never put in it, however plainly you say them: health, physical or mental, in any form — conditions, diagnoses, symptoms, medication, therapy, treatment, pregnancy; religion, politics, race, ethnicity, immigration status; a label for your sexuality, orientation or attachment; substances, including drinking as a habit; money figures, debts, income; and the names of other people, or anything about another person beyond their role in your life. When an answer is about one of those things, at most the shape of it is kept in neutral words — “in a hard stretch”, “a close friend” — and often nothing is.

Instructed is not the same as prevented, and that sentence carries more weight here than it does for the numbers. The list above is an instruction to the model, written in plain words. It is not a filter, and no code checks the model’s work against it; the code checks only that the seven headings are there, that the cap is kept, and that what is under close is stored apart. On one side a portrait is worse than the numbers: it is prose, and nothing in its shape stops a sentence about your health from landing in it if the model slips. On the other side it is better: a person can read a portrait and catch a leak, which nobody could do with a number. That person is the one who runs Rhythm, reading portraits, and that is the only check there is. The safest thing is still not to write about health, or anything else you would not want read, in an answer. Skipping a day is normal and costs you nothing.

Portraits are tidied. When a portrait grows past about 200 words, or about once a week for one long enough to be worth it, a model rewrites it shorter: repeated lines merged into one that keeps every date, lines that have gone quiet moved to fading, old faded lines dropped, and nothing added. A result that is longer than what went in is thrown away.

Once a day, two portraits are compared

At a set hour each evening, and whenever the person who runs Rhythm starts it by hand, Rhythm goes through every pair of friends where both people have a portrait and either portrait has changed since the pair was last looked at — or, when started by hand, every such pair. For each such pair a model reads both portraits and today’s date — no names; the two are called A and B — twice, with the two portraits in the opposite order the second time, and the two readings are averaged so that which of you happens to be first cannot tip the answer. It answers eight fixed questions about whether the two lives are converging, each with a whole number from 0 to 3: whether both lives have open time of the same kind; whether a longing in one life is answered by something in the other; whether they meet the world alike; whether the same thing is alive in both lives; whether both would talk properly, not small talk; whether the shapes of their weeks fit; whether anything is in the way; and how much there is to go on. Arithmetic, not the model, turns those eight numbers — together with the number the nine lines had already given the pair — into the pair’s place in the circle.

The model also writes two or three sentences about the pair, and Rhythm keeps them. They are its account of what it saw in the two lives that made it answer as it did, with the two of you as A and B and nothing quoted. They are stored with the pair’s numbers and shown only to the person who runs Rhythm — never to you, never to your friend, never to anyone else. An earlier version of this page said Rhythm stored no sentence about you. When portraits are on, it stores this one, and this page says so before it happens.

The model is told that nothing about health, family, relationships or any hard circumstance lowers anyone’s standing; such a thing may only inform whether there is room and whether something is in the way, as you said it. It is told that what is under close is judged like any other longing, and that its sentences may never describe it. The first of those is an instruction, as above, not a filter. The second is also checked in code: before the sentences are stored, they are compared against what is under close, and if they carry a phrase from it, a rare word from it, or a word about attraction itself, the whole account is replaced by the one sentence “Part of this rests on something private.” That check is a word-match, not understanding; it can be too cautious, which costs the person who runs Rhythm a paragraph, and a sentence that says a private thing in entirely different words could pass it. The code also enforces that the private part is never selected by anything a person sees.

How far apart the curves are drawn is calibrated against everyone. The distance between two curves is placed on a scale taken from all the pairs in the system — roughly where the tightest tenth of pairs sit and where the loosest tenth sit — and the scale moves a little each night rather than all at once. So other people’s pairs influence how far apart your curves are drawn. They cannot change the order: who sits above whom in your circle is set by the pair’s own number, and the scale only stretches or squeezes the drawing.

This request carries no names, and it carries portraits, never answers. Until the exchange was built it was the only place your description and a friend’s were ever in the same request; the exchange is now a second place, and it carries more — the next section says exactly what. Block someone, or remove them from your circle, and the numbers and sentences about that pair are deleted with the pair.

What one friend may be shown of your words

This is the only thing on this page that takes something you wrote and puts it in front of another person. It is switched off. When the person who runs Rhythm switches it on, here is exactly what happens, and it is worth reading all of it before you answer another question.

When two friends are already being shown to each other as converging — the two curves, nothing less — Rhythm may take one short piece of what each of them actually wrote and show each of them the other’s. Both at the same moment, or neither at all. Rhythm calls this the exchange.

Once someone has read it, it is theirs to remember. Rhythm cannot stop a friend writing your words down, repeating them, or showing someone else. The terms ask people not to, and asking is all any service can do. Twelve words with no name, no date and no fact in them are meant to be a poor thing to pass on, and that is the actual protection here, not a rule.

There is no setting that turns this off for you alone. It is one switch for the whole of Rhythm. If you would rather no part of what you write were ever shown to anybody, the way to do that is to stop answering, or to leave — both are always open, and skipping a day costs you nothing.

What goes to the model. Choosing the two fragments is one request to Anthropic that carries both people’s recent answers, as written, along with the two portraits. It is the first and only place two people’s own words are in the same request. It carries no names, no email addresses, no numbers, and nothing that says who either person is. It cannot reach the part of either portrait called close.

What is kept, and for how long. The two fragments are stored with the pair, along with which day’s answer each came from and when each was shown. They are kept while they stand, and afterwards, so that the same words are not sent to the same person again. They are deleted when either of you deletes their account, when one of you removes the other from your circle, and when either of you blocks the other. The person who runs Rhythm can see both fragments on the internal view — both, including your own, which you cannot see. That is the only way the bar can be checked at all, and it is the honest cost of checking it.

A question put to the two of you

This is the only thing on this page that takes something you wrote and shows it to another person whole, and the only thing in Rhythm that cannot be undone. It is on, and since 18 September it is the centre of Rhythm. Here is exactly what happens.

Every morning Rhythm puts one question to each pair in your circle — you and one friend — and anyone in your circle can also put a question to the two of you, and you to them, once Rhythm holds a description of both of you; until then that option is not there for either of you, and nothing is said about why. That threshold is about what each of you has written, never about the two of you as a pair: Rhythm does not decide which friendships deserve a question. You do not choose the question and neither do they: Rhythm writes it, as two different questions, one for each of you — not the same sentence twice. For a pair’s first days, and whenever Rhythm has nothing of its own to write, the question comes from a short list written once and kept, still as two wordings, and nothing tells you which kind you got. You answer yours without seeing theirs and without seeing their answer. When you have both answered, the two answers appear side by side, to both of you at once.

A question can begin before the other person is on Rhythm. When you start one with someone, you answer the opening question for the two of you and Rhythm gives you a link. Your answer is held, unread by anyone, until the person who opens the link signs in and answers theirs — then both open, and the two of you are in each other’s circle from that moment. The link shows whoever holds it your first name, the name you typed for them, and their side of the question; never your answer. A link opens once. You can take one back before it is opened, and your answer goes with it.

Your phone number is not sent to anyone. There was once a button here that sent your mobile number to the other person, one way and without undo. It is no longer offered and Rhythm refuses the request behind it, so there is currently no circumstance in which Rhythm gives your number to another person — not to somebody in your circle, not to anybody else. If that ever changes it will be for meeting people you do not already know, where handing over a way to reach you is the point, and this page will say so before it is offered to you.

A number already sent cannot be recalled. If you sent yours while that button existed, Rhythm cannot take it back and neither can you. Deleting your account removes it from Rhythm; it does not remove it from the person you gave it to. Rhythm only ever passed on a number you had confirmed was yours.

What is kept. Both questions, both answers whole, when each was locked, when the two were shown to each other, and whether a number was ever sent between you back when that was offered. They are deleted when either of you deletes their account, when one of you removes the other from your circle, and when either of you blocks the other — and deleting your account takes the other person’s answer with it, because that answer only ever existed beside yours. The person who runs Rhythm can see both questions and both answers on the internal view. That is the only way the rule about giving nothing away can be checked at all, and it is the honest cost of checking it.

Writing your questions

Rhythm’s questions are not chosen from a list. Every one is written for you — the handful it asks when you join, and one a day after that. The only exception is the very first question, which is the same for everyone and is the only one you share with anybody.

To write one, Rhythm sends your recent answers — the text, not just the numbers — to Anthropic, along with an instruction to write one new question. That is more than the reader receives: the reader sees one answer at a time, the writer sees a run of them together.

When portraits are on, your portrait goes with it too — the whole of it, including the part called close — so that the next question can be adjacent to what you have said you want, rather than to whatever the last answer happened to mention. The instruction is to aim by it and never to quote it, and never to let a question show that it exists. Questions about what you want from people are asked the way a good friend would ask — plainly, and never explicitly.

It is also told, in a phrase, how far along you are: how many questions you have answered and roughly how much Rhythm has heard of you (little, some, a good deal). That is so the question can be pitched one step past where you are rather than three — a first week is asked about concretely and outwardly, and depth is earned by what you have already said, not by the date. Two ways it may ask that a survey never does: about other people (a habit of a friend’s you envy; what you notice in others is kept as yours, and the friend is never kept at all), and about what you wish you wanted. It never asks a question shaped as a lapse — “when did you last” — on purpose.

It is also sent the two things you told Rhythm about yourself when you joined: your age and, if you gave one, your gender. They are used to pitch a question at a life you have plausibly lived, and the instruction says never to mention either one or ask you about them. If you would rather they were not used this way, leave the gender blank; the age is asked because the terms require you to be 18.

Nothing else about you goes with it — not your name, not your email, not your city, not your circle, not who you are converging with — and nothing anyone else has ever written goes with it either. The question that comes back is shown to you and to nobody else. Anthropic’s terms for that API say it does not train its models on what is sent through it. Rhythm relies on those terms and has not negotiated anything beyond them.

How far back it reaches is limited and is a setting, not “everything you have ever written”. Rhythm keeps a record of each of these calls the same way it does for the reader — which model, whether it worked, how long it took, what it cost, and how many of your answers went with it — but never the text of them.

When a question cannot be written, there is no question that day. Rhythm says so, and records it as its own miss rather than as a day you skipped. There is no stock list to fall back on, on purpose: a question nobody chose for you is not what this is.

Photos

When you sign in, Rhythm stores the link to your Google profile picture. You can also upload one of your own, and replace or remove it whenever you like. Either way it is shown, small, next to your name to people in your circle and to people Rhythm suggests you might know — and nowhere else. It is not on any public page and is never indexed.

If you are under 18

Rhythm is for adults. If you tell Rhythm during setup that you are under 18, setup stops there: no question is asked, nothing is read, no circle is created and no portrait is written. The year you gave is kept, so that the same question is not simply asked again, and nothing further about you is collected.

That gate is on the website. Setting up an account asks your age before it asks you anything else, and an answer under 18 stops there. It is not on the text path: linking a mobile number does not ask how old you are, because by then you already have an account that did. Rhythm takes your word for the answer either way — it is a question, not a check. If you know a child has signed up, write to [email protected] and the account and everything under it will be removed by hand.

How long things are kept

Rhythm does not currently delete anything automatically. Answers, the numbers read from them, messages, sign-in records and everything else on the list above stay until an account is deleted. There is no retention schedule yet, and this page will not pretend there is one. A few things do get removed as you go:

Leaving

The delete button is inside the product. It is at the bottom of your Settings page, under “Leaving Rhythm”. You type the word DELETE, and your account is scheduled for deletion seven days later. During those seven days nothing of yours has been removed: you have left your friends’ circles and Rhythm has stopped asking you anything, but one button on the same page puts it all back. After seven days it happens on its own and cannot be undone. There is still no export button; for a copy of what Rhythm holds about you, write to [email protected] from the email address on your account. A person, not a form, will reply, and you should expect that reply within a week. You can also ask by email to be deleted, and the person who runs Rhythm will do it by hand, immediately, without the seven days.

What deletion means: your account row is removed, and with it your sign-in, your sessions, your circle, your invites, your answers, every reading and position derived from them, your portrait, your pair records, any fragments of your words that were traded with a friend and any of theirs that were traded with you, every question you were asked together with someone — including the answers they wrote to those questions, because those answers only ever existed beside yours — your blocks, your linked number and your photo. The message thread — texts and the website thread alike — is tied to the number rather than the account, so it is removed by number in the same pass. Two kinds of record survive, both on purpose:

The record of each comparison call — which model, whether it worked, how long it took, what it cost — is kept under the pair’s internal ids rather than under the account, so deleting the account does not remove it; it holds no text.

What export means today: a copy of what Rhythm holds about you, sent to you by email, put together by hand. Ask, and it will be sent.

Who else receives your data

Rhythm is small, and the list of companies that touch your data is short. Each one gets only what it needs to do its job.

Nobody else. No advertising network, no analytics service, no data broker, no marketing tool.

The person who runs Rhythm

Rhythm is run by one person, and that person has an internal view. It is worth saying plainly what it shows and what it does not.

It shows, for each person, their name, how many questions they have answered and when, and where the system currently places them on each of the nine lines, along with every individual reading and a record of each reader call. When portraits are on it also shows each person’s portrait — the six public headings in full, and for the part called close only that there is something there — and a record of each portrait and tidying call — which model, whether it worked, how long it took, what it cost, never an answer. It shows every pair of friends with both names and the pair’s numbers, and, for a pair the comparison model has placed, its eight answers, the two or three sentences it wrote about the pair, and whether the comparison rested partly on something private, along with the record of each evening’s round and the scale the curves are drawn on. When the exchange is on, a pair also shows both traded fragments — each person’s own words, next to their name — where each came from, when each was shown, the choosing model’s reason with both fragments removed from it, and the reason for every pair that was left silent. It shows every report, with the names of both people and what the reporter wrote. Every switch and setting change made there is logged.

It does not show answers, and it does not show messages. That view is built so that the answer text and the message text are never fetched into it. Two things come close and are there on purpose. The portrait is one: a person reading portraits is the only check on what the model puts in them. A traded fragment is the other, and it is a dozen of your actual words shown beside your actual name — the smallest piece of answer text anywhere on that view, and the only way anyone can check that the bar held before your words reached your friend.

The database itself is a different matter. The person who runs Rhythm can open it directly, and it contains your answers. The rule is that this is not done. The code does not enforce that rule; a person does.

Security

The site and the API are served only over HTTPS. Your sign-in session is a random token held in a cookie your browser will not hand to scripts; Rhythm stores only a SHA-256 hash of it, so a copy of the sessions table cannot be used to sign in as anyone. Text verification codes are stored the same way. Rhythm makes no claim about encryption at rest beyond what Cloudflare provides, and holds no security certification.

Changes to this page

When this page changes, the date at the top changes with it. Rhythm can now email you, and will about a change that matters, at the address you sign in with; the date is still the record. If a change would give Rhythm more of your data, or share it with someone new, it will be written here before it takes effect, not after.

Contact

Rhythm is run by one person in Washington state. Write to [email protected].