There’s a strange numbness that has crept into our modern psyche; an unspoken agreement that truth is elastic. The conversations we have with each other are disposable; the promises we make are merely suggestions unless someone is listening; and increasingly even that doesn’t matter to many people.
To a startling extent, we have all grown accustomed to linguistic amnesty: if nobody’s keeping score, does it really matter what we say?
-Pulp Conversations
The irony is that we demand honesty from others: politicians, colleagues and especially friends. All the while we secretly reserve the right to edit our own narratives when it suits us. We crave accountability in our institutions, our relationships, and our leaders. Yet, faced with the prospect of being held to our word, a shiver of self-preservation runs up our spine.
Devices like Limitless represent a disruption of this comfort. If you are new here: the Limitless Pendant is a kettlebell-shaped-object worn on a necklace; recording my conversations 24/7 and connecting with an AI-powered app on my phone to help me remember, synthesize and reflect on my words.
I have been using the device since March and my take is that our collective fear of being held accountable might instead be seen as a persistent force for integrity. When every word is looped back to us by the simple habit of “always-on” memory, casual exaggeration takes on subtle gravity. Reflecting on daily insights, sometimes pushed and often pulled, has encouraged me to take promises even more seriously.
The world we demand from others should begin, quietly, with ourselves.
The story of Limitless is more than the tale of an ambitious AI-powered device. In May I had the pleasure of speaking with the company’s candid and insightful Head of Community. I left our meeting feeling emboldened that always-on recording can be a subtle force for self-betterment in a world plagued by broken promises and scattered intentions.
FYI - the quotes referenced below were captured via the Pendant around my neck.
The Genesis of Limitless
Heidi remembers the origins with blunt honesty:
“So Rewind was an app for Mac that records your screen. So it’s very invasive, very much the early adopters loved it.”
Limitless began its life as a digital omnivore, gulping down everything on your Mac: screenshots, audio snippets, every trace of your virtual existence. It was, as Heidi put it, “fun for a niche audience,” but the notion of such total surveillance, however well-intentioned, was too much for wider societal anxieties to bear.
Yet, it lit a spark. As the culture shifted and video meetings became the norm, Heidi’s team made a pivotal move; Limitless refocused away from relentless documentation and instead honed in on the professional sphere: recording meetings, turning memory into an asset, not a liability.
We weren’t sure how much of it would be like, oh, you know, we have this hardware device you could buy if you want. We didn’t know...but fast forward a year later, we are a hardware company and software, but we are a pendant company.
-Heidi
I remember how the device captured my imagination when I bought it in March 2024 - one year before I received it. As I put it to Heidi, “I didn’t feel it was over promising...doing a device that, um, seemingly really just has to do one thing well, which is serve as a listening device and then the software will take over.”
Limitless, wisely, abandoned the ‘do-everything’ delusion of failed competitors such as Humane and Rabbit. Instead, the team priced the first pre-orders as loss leaders at $99.
Always-on memory brings its own shadow. When I floated a scenario about legal subpoenas (“Let’s say...I get a subpoena from someone’s lawyer saying, hey, we need to know what that person said in your conversation”), Heidi’s answer was unflinching: “So, our stance...if we’re subpoenaed...we would just say like we we can’t. We can’t do that for you...But technically can we? Yes, we could.” Engineers might access recordings “for debugging,” but privacy is not just policy, it’s a battle between technical possibility and human intent.
Heidi recognizes that, for some, the risks are worth it: “There has to be laws and rules...in order to like protect users. This is a new thing.” But legal and cultural frameworks lag behind the technology. As she said, “I know people who are early adopters that want the technology and they’re using it at their own risk, at their patient’s risk, which is the part that, you know...legal risk is what you’re talking about.” That might sound cold, but it’s honest. Limitless doesn’t coddle users with false security; it invites them to be adults in a complex, evolving world.
Most use cases are not controversial
I told Heidi, “So I just started a new use case today that I’ll test out...continuous glucose monitoring. So today was my first day where I’ve just been talking to this thing about what I’ve been eating.” The device had become, almost by accident, a companion to my self-care and self-understanding. It was tracking, capturing and supporting my growth.
But it’s the softer applications that reveal Limitless’s preeminent value for me: “I get two daily notifications, including ... What were my most memorable moments with Bo today?, my five year old...just for that alone, it’s worth it to me.”
Heidi heard of these cases too. “Yeah, we have heard of that use case of...recording children...maybe it’s like strong enough to be like, ‘Hey parents, record everything.!’”
And yet, there’s a paradox: The people building Limitless are not always its heaviest users. Heidi confessed, “I’m actually not the main user. Like even though I work there...I’m like by myself all day long...sometimes I’m going to like a noisy party or something and it’s not going to capture well. In one-on-one conversation, I do find it nice to record, but it’s still not built in my habit even though I literally work on it all day long.” It’s a humbling reminder that even the best tools don’t beat human inertia overnight.
Authentic change is incremental and honesty about habit formation is itself a rare virtue in tech.
Using Limitless over the past year has subtly recalibrated my relationship with spoken intent. In an era of ghosting and performative promises, through the act of recording what I say (and knowing I can, but mostly never review again), I have been closing the gap between my intentions and actions.
Living as if my present words will visit my future self is changing me. I find myself pausing ever so slightly before making a new commitment: Am I willing to put that on the record? Will I cringe or smile when I play this back in a month or a year? For me the device acts as a digital conscience of sorts.
I imagine what society might look like if when this lightly accountable state becomes the norm. Might political discourse become less about spinning narratives and more about continuity? Might workplace meetings shift from grandstanding to concrete follow-through? Might promises to friends, partners, and especially ourselves become concrete to-do lists? —> a Pendant feature already on by default.
I don’t want a world where everything is punished by surveillance. But I do want a world where words matter, linger, and encourage self-improvement.
“I know I can / Be what I wanna be / If I work hard at it / I’ll be where I wanna be.”
-Nas
Limitless, for me, has become that digital nudge: the reminder that aspirations need witnesses.
The value proposition for always on recording should be obvious: never forget a meeting; preserve our kids’ golden comments; notice patterns in what we promise versus what we build. A photographic memory is a forcing function for humility over hype and transparency over manipulation.
There are negative externalities for us to manage: navigating privacy laws, awkward social moments (“my co-workers are telling me not to use it anymore”), technical limitations, and the slow forming of new habits. Yet these are the growing pains of progress.
Do we want to become incrementally more authentic as people?
Limitless is not about remembering everything for the sake of it. It’s a tool that can help close the space between ‘I will’ and ‘I did.’ If humanity truly did what it said, perhaps our messy and unfinished lives could feel more coherent.
I like to think so.
Music: Numb by Cassie ft. Rick Ross
News flash: In December 2025, META acquired Limitless for an undisclosed amount. The existing product will seemingly be sunset as the Pendant is no longer for sale. Let’s see what happens next … hopefully Heidi won’t forget about me.
