Why We Started The AI Insider

We did not start this because we understood AI better than anyone else. We started it because we did not, and pretending otherwise felt worse than admitting it.

For a long time we were both living the same quiet lie. Forty something tabs open, most of them a week old, none of them actually read. A thread about a new model release. A research paper we swore we would get to tonight, three tonights ago. A screenshot captioned “this changes everything,” which by the time we opened it, already had not. Each tab was a small promise to ourselves, to understand something, to keep up, to not be the person nodding along while quietly searching under the table. Each one just sat there, blinking, unkept.

We did not notice how much this was costing us until someone asked, casually, what we actually thought about AI, and we froze. We had consumed hours of it and could not, in one honest sentence, explain what mattered. We were not informed. We were just tired, and somehow still behind.

What scared us more was realizing this was not just us. It was friends nodding along in group chats, quietly lost. A grandfather who did not know what “the AI thing” meant, half embarrassed to ask twice. A teacher rethinking how to teach, a doctor rethinking how to diagnose, a friend building a business, secretly convinced everyone else had already figured it out. Different ages, same fog. Nobody wanted to admit it first.

So we closed the tabs, and built the thing we actually needed. Not another feed to scroll and abandon. A paper. A front page, real sections, an actual ending you could reach. Something you finish, instead of something you guilt close.

It did not feel glamorous. It felt like rewriting the same headline nine times because it still sounded fake, deleting a section we loved because it was accurate but boring, and too much instant coffee shared between two very tired co-founders.

Neither of us took these titles for a business card. We took them because somebody had to sit in the mess long enough to make sense of it, to be wrong sometimes and say so, out loud. Nobody hands you that. You just get tired of waiting, and one day realize you already have it.

Our tabs are fewer now. Not because we stopped caring, but because we finally built somewhere to put it down.

If even one person stops nodding along because of this paper, we will consider it the best thing we have ever built.

Kavish Tolani & Aarav Prashad Tiwari