What a company calls things, how they work, what they are trying to do, and the rules they operate under — held once per organisation, carried between the people who work there, and yours to read and export.
None of these four met each other. The last one asks a question that depends on all three of the others, in a conversation nobody prepared for.
Your team already does this, in one person’s head, for the forty accounts they know. The fourth column is what it looks like for the rest of the book.
This is not a transcript store. It is a short list of durable statements, each one filed by what kind of thing it is and why it is believed.
Every fact records whether it was stated, corrected, declared as a rule, or given as a preference. A correction outranks a statement when the two ever disagree.
A person saying “we moved to daily reconciliation” replaces the fact that said weekly. Explicitly — similarity is not supersession, and overlap is not either.
The narrowest scope the sentence actually establishes. “Finance uses a four-hour SLA” is a team fact and stays one; it is never widened to the company.
Readable in the dashboard, per account, with the evidence attached. Exportable. Deletable. It is a record about your customer, not a profile we keep.
Ninety seconds before a renewal call, somebody opens the account and reads four lines that would otherwise have taken an hour of scrolling through old threads — assuming the person who knew was still here.
A memory that files one person's habit as the company's position is worse than no memory, because it is confidently wrong about people who never said it.
“We call our customers Clients.” Reaches everyone who works there, because it is true of everyone who works there.
“Finance uses a four-hour SLA.” Stored on the account — a team is organisational substructure — but recorded as the team's, so it is never widened.
“Support managers can issue refunds.” The narrowest scope that exists, and the floor of what gets remembered at all.
“I prefer concise responses” is not the company’s preference, and the fix is not to file it more narrowly — it is to not file it. A statement true only of the person speaking produces no fact at all. Amvio remembers organisations.
Would this be equally true for any other customer using the same product? If it would, it is not a fact about this account — it is a fact about your software, and it belongs somewhere else entirely.
Both halves are recorded on every run: how many facts the filter removed, and what they said. A filter nobody can read is a filter nobody can prove wrong.
“We reconcile invoices weekly, not daily.”
A decision this company made. Nobody else's.
“Exports are capped at 5,000 rows per file.”
True of every customer you have. It belongs in product knowledge, where it can be corrected once for everybody.
A memory that keeps everything is the one your security review kills. The restraint is most of the reason this is safe to point at real customers.
“I like short answers” is not a company preference, and it does not become one. A statement true only of the person speaking produces no record at all.
A limit, a rule, a behaviour — true for every customer you have, so it belongs in product knowledge where fixing it once fixes it for everyone. It is filtered out of the account record on the way in.
This is not a transcript store dressed up. Sessions are kept separately and readable by your team; the account record is a short list of durable facts, and it stays short.
Delete a fact and it is gone. Delete an account and the record goes with it. There is no shadow copy that keeps answering after you removed it.
Not eventually, and not by accumulating enough evidence to outvote the old fact. Immediately, and the old one is retired rather than left to argue with it.
Said in passing, mid-conversation. That is a correction, and it replaces the fact that said weekly — the record keeps a pointer to what it used to say.
Similarity is not correction. Two facts about the same subject sit side by side unless somebody actually said one had replaced the other.
Every fact is editable and deletable from the account record, by your team, without waiting for a customer to mention it.
It is short, it is in English, and every line has the conversation it came from attached to it. That is the whole audit.
A map with nobody to ask. A conversation with nothing to draw on. A memory of a product it never learned. The system is the point.
A conversation inside the product, on the screen they are stuck on — spoken, and able to see what they are looking at.
read the page →Where it stops. It says it does not know, refuses the three subjects you never want answered, and promises nothing it cannot keep.
read the page →It walks your product screen by screen and writes down what it found, in a 22-section record per page — including what it could not establish.
read the page →Your maps and docs compiled into things it knows, held at two grains so a single fact inside a long document can still be found.
read the page →It remembers the company, not the seat — so the fourth person from an account does not start the conversation over.
you are hereEvery conversation is read afterwards for what it taught, and only claims that survive four gates become something it believes.
read the page →What it handled, what it learned, what it could not answer, and which accounts have gone quiet — for the people who own the product.
read the page →Where you set what it is, how it speaks, what it must never touch, and which pages it appears on. Settings that become instructions.
read the page →Your users are already having the conversation. Right now it is with nobody.