How Ember Thinks

Most of Ember's choices come from a handful of beliefs about memory and the people in it. Knowing them makes the app easier to understand: why it asks so little, why it never nags, and why some things you might expect simply aren't there.

A journal first

Ember is a place to write down your life. People are at the centre of it because they're at the centre of most days worth remembering. You don't fill in forms or keep records about anyone. You write, and when someone was part of the day, you mention them with @.

From that one gesture, everything else follows: their page, their timeline, the stories you share, the places on the map, the anniversaries in the Calendar.

Your words, only yours

Ember never writes for you. It doesn't summarize your entries, suggest what to say to someone, or rewrite anything. When Ember reminds you of a person, it shows you your own last words about them, nothing generated.

Search and photo text recognition run on your device. Nothing you write is sent anywhere to be read by a machine or a person.

History, not guesses

Ember only knows what you told it, and when. It never invents a date, fills in a gap, or decides who you probably meant. If you add someone today, Ember doesn't pretend you met them years ago; their history starts the day you wrote it down. On the Graph's timeline, the far left is labelled Ember begins for that reason.

The same goes for connections. Mentions match the name or nickname you typed. Ember never links two people on its own, never groups entries into a story, and never puts someone in a world you didn't choose.

Rhythms, not streaks

Not every relationship should be measured the same way. A close friend you see weekly, a grandparent who will always be family, someone you met once on a train: each deserves a different kind of attention. That's what relationship intentions are for.

  • Tending: I want to stay in touch.
  • Rooted: they matter, contact isn't needed.
  • Seen: a meaningful encounter, just remembered.
  • Quiet: we've drifted, and that's okay.

Only people you're tending can fade, and fading is a soft signal, not a failure. Ember has no streaks, no badges, no scores, and it never reminds you to open the app or to write. When it does reach out, it points you toward a person.

Only on purpose

Ember doesn't collect things behind your back. A place is added to an entry only when you add it, so a sparse map is normal. Weather is set when you ask for it. Photos are read for search only on your device. Analytics never include your writing, people or places, and you can turn them off in Settings.

Yours to keep

Your library lives on your device, with no account. Sync goes through your own iCloud. Ember hosts nothing: there are no share links, and anything you send is a file you made. You can export everything at any time, for free, as plain JSON and your original media files, in an open, documented format that's readable without Ember.

You decide what belongs together

Ember gives you three ways to shape what you write. Use any of them, or none:

UseWhen it's aboutExample
A worldwho, and how often you keep in touch. A world is a group of people with its own rhythm.Work, Family, the climbing gym
A storya thread through time that you want to read as one.A move abroad, a wedding, a long illness
A taga theme that turns up anywhere.#gratitude, #walks, #letters

Nothing is permanent. Rename, merge or delete worlds, stories and tags whenever the shape of your life changes.