Why
Your phone has a copilot. Your editor has a copilot. Your car has three. Your brain, the thing that does all the actual flying, has nothing. It has coffee. Coffee is not a copilot. Coffee is a passenger who talks too much.
Nemes is a wearable neural copilot. That is the official description, and it is also the whole plan.
I have always liked hard science made simple. My projects try to make complex neuroscience accessible to everyone, not just people with a lab coat and a grant. Nemes is the most direct version of that idea. The science sits on your head. The simple part is the job.
What it is
The name already tells you most of it. A wearable, so it lives on you. An app, so you can see what it noticed. And a copilot, so it helps instead of taking the wheel.
A copilot does not fly the plane. It watches the instruments, calls out what matters, and stays quiet the rest of the time. That is the bar. A copilot that talks all the time is just a very expensive backseat driver.
The best copilot is the one you forget is there until the moment you need it.
What it is not
It is not a mind reader. It does not know what you had for lunch, and it would not judge you if it did.
It is not a doctor. If something feels wrong, talk to a real one. A wearable is a tool, not a diagnosis.
It is not magic. It is engineering, and engineering is just magic with a changelog. The goal is that you never need a PhD to use it.
Ideas
Here is where I think out loud. Everything in this section is an idea, not a promise.
Idea: a quiet nudge. You are deep in work, the copilot notices you have been tense for an hour, and it suggests a two minute break. Once. Not every five minutes like a smartwatch with abandonment issues.
Idea: a study buddy. You are learning something hard, the copilot notices your focus drift, and it suggests you switch from reading to doing. Chessing already turns chess lessons into games. The head version would be the sequel.
Idea one: the quiet nudge
Idea two: the study buddy
Idea: a weekly report written like a friend, not a spreadsheet. “You focused best on Tuesday mornings. You also had four coffees. Coincidence? Probably not.”
I keep the ideas loose on purpose. The fastest way to build the wrong thing is to fall in love with a feature before anybody has worn the device.
Rules for a good copilot
Here are the rules I would hold it to. The product has to argue with them, not with me.
Quiet by default. A copilot speaks when it matters and shuts up the rest of the time. Silence is a feature. Notifications are a tax.
Plain words. No graphs you need a degree to read. If the copilot cannot say it in one short sentence, it does not get to say it yet.
You stay the pilot. It suggests. You decide. Nothing happens to you without you saying yes.
Your head, your data. Whatever the wearable notices belongs to the person wearing it. That should be boring and obvious, which is exactly why it goes on the list.
Funny is allowed. Science does not have to be grey. My whole thing is making hard ideas feel easy, and nothing makes an idea easier than a good joke about it.
What is next
Next is the boring, important part. Wear it. Test it. Listen to the people wearing it. Delete the ideas that do not survive contact with a real head. Keep the ones that do.
If you want to follow along, nemes.app is the place, and the Brain Hackers Discord is where the arguments happen. Bring opinions. Bring questions. Bring your own coffee.
Related: if you made it this far, you would probably enjoy the chess essay. It has no electrodes. It has horses.
