Our Commitment
Most projects ask you to trust them. This one asks you to check it. This page is the covenant: the rules we bind ourselves to, written plainly, in one place, so that anyone — friendly or hostile — can measure what we do against what we said. Daylight between these words and our conduct is a correction, and the door for filing it is on this page. The reference shelf behind the covenant — the full verification method, the complete corrections invitation, the whole story of who makes this and what it cost — lives one click away: the reference shelf.
The rules
The truth laws
Every claim carries a receipt.
Every figure on this site traces to a public source or a computation we show. If a claim can’t be traced, it doesn’t publish. Receipts do the persuading; we don’t.
Every number wears its date.
Facts age. Every figure is stamped with when it was true and re-checked when the world moves. An undated number is treated as a wrong number.
What we don’t know, we say — on the page, not in a footnote.
Unverified things are labeled unverified. Open questions are listed openly. We would rather show you a gap than paper over one.
Our coverage is not the world.
When we’ve only examined part of something, we say what we examined. We will never let “we haven’t looked yet” masquerade as “it doesn’t exist.”
Corrections are public and welcome.
When we’re wrong, the correction is published, dated, and left visible — and the person who caught it is thanked. Finding our mistakes is the system working, not the system failing. Here’s the door.
One substance, many doors — never many stories.
The same facts may be framed for different readers, but every version traces to the same canonical substance. We do not tell one audience one thing and another audience another.
The identity law
The work is signed by a pseudonym so the ideas stand alone.
Everything here is written under the name the Unknown Soldier. That is deliberate: no reputation, no personality, no face asks for your trust — only work you can verify. If the arguments don’t survive your checking, no name should rescue them.
The neutrality firewall
Nobody elected us — so we endorse nobody.
This project never endorses, ranks, or opposes any candidate. Ever.
Every candidate is served identically.
Whatever we offer one candidate in a race, every candidate in that race gets, on identical terms, whatever their politics.
We tell anyone how to vote — never who.
Voting information here is neutral logistics from official sources. No turnout effort of ours may target by party, by candidate, or by how anyone is expected to vote.
Nothing to join, nothing replaced.
This project builds commons, not a membership organization. It feeds existing communities, organizations, and rooms — it does not compete with them, absorb them, or ask anyone to leave them.
The money rules
No donations are asked for — anywhere, from anyone.
You will not find a donate button on this site. Participation is the currency here.
Research money and election money never mix.
The funds behind this infrastructure pay for research and civic commons only. They do not and will not pay for election advertising for or against anyone. One purpose per account; no dollar crosses that line. The full account structure is committed to legal review — a gate we set for ourselves; until the full public claims register page is live, the spending record in the whole story is the interim public record.
If we ever sell anything, the margin is disclosed.
Should anything ever be offered for sale — a poster, a shirt — what it cost and what it earns will be printed next to the price.
Accounted to the dollar, in public.
Spending is logged transaction by transaction, and the record publishes — today, in the whole story.
The dignity laws
The dual test — every page passes both or doesn’t publish.
One: it survives a hostile fact-checker. Two: every person described in it can read it with their dignity intact. A page that fails either test is not finished.
No statistic may corner an identifiable person.
We never attach an aggregate claim to a group so small it describes one or two nameable people. A “statistic” about a class of one is a characterization, and we don’t do it.
Safety beats completeness.
Where data could expose someone precarious — immigration status above all — we publish magnitudes, not counts, or nothing at all. No surface we build may put a vulnerable person at risk, no matter what it would prove.
The participation laws
Consent first, deletion built in.
Anything you give us — a signature, a submission, an idea — is collected with consent, used for what we said, and deletable on your word. Minors are welcomed to participate with a stated gate, never quietly harvested.
Receipts, not newsletters.
We report what happened — what was built, what was checked, what was corrected — rather than marketing to you. Measurement is aggregate-only: one small visit counter, no cookie of ours, nothing stored on your device, and no dashboard anywhere that shows you as a person — only counts. The complete accounting of what that counter sees is in the reference shelf; if it ever stops being true, that’s a correction like any other.
These rules run deeper than this page: behind them sit full written standards — an honesty editing rubric, a data-retention schedule, a cryptographic timestamping standard — that are internal today and publish as each is ruled ready. This page is the plain-language layer, and it is the binding one.
How we verify
The short form of the method: every load-bearing claim is drafted against real sources, then pulled back out, one at a time, and independently re-checked against the original before it ships — and a copy of what was actually read is kept, so a claim’s backing can’t quietly rot if the source later changes or vanishes. Checking is never done only by whoever drafted the claim. The status words you’ll see across the site — sealed, in verification, draft, proposed — are exact promises, not moods.
The full method — the publication loop step by step, what each status word binds us to, what happens when something turns out to be wrong, and a worked example you can audit claim by claim — is here: how we verify, in full. How the research itself is made: the research process.
Tell us we’re wrong — the corrections door
Somewhere on this site right now there’s an error nobody has found yet, an idea nobody has sent yet, and a pair of hands we haven’t met. There always is — we built the whole system around that sentence staying permanently true. Corrections, improvements, ideas, resources, offers of help: all of it is welcome, and any of it makes the site better the day it arrives. You don’t need credentials. The evidence needs credentials.
Two doors, both watched: the Harvest — the site’s front door for ideas, offers, and what you’d fix — and the mailbox, unknownsoldier@unitetolove.ca for corrections directly — paste in the page’s address, say what’s wrong, and add the better source if you have one. No better source? Send it anyway; “this doesn’t hold” with a reason is plenty.
What happens to your note: it gets read — a person reads every one. It gets verified against sources with the same discipline we apply to our own claims. Then one of three things happens in the open: we fix it everywhere it appears, with the old version left visible and the correction dated; we show our work, publishing why the claim holds so the next person with your doubt finds the answer waiting; or we downgrade it to “no longer sure,” saying exactly that. And you get credited if you want credit — or stay anonymous; both are honored. What never happens: silent edits, quiet deletions, or a claim that goes on being cited after it broke. Blunt is fine, by the way — a correct stranger is worth a hundred agreeable ones.
One boundary: if you believe you’ve found not a broken claim but real wrongdoing by real institutions — stop. Don’t send it here first. Serious allegations deserve journalists, auditors, or authorities with the power and the duty to investigate them; we are neither. This library documents what’s published and verifiable. It is not a tip line.
The full invitation — everything we’re asking for, in detail, and the corrections record as it grows — lives on the reference shelf.
Written with machines — signed by people
Yes. AI helped build this. A lot of it. You deserve that said plainly, not buried in a footer.
One of your neighbours — one human being, with a small circle of friends at the edges — decides what this project cares about, what it will never do, and what gets published. Every value in it, every red line, every “we won’t touch that” came from a person. The machines do what machines are good at: they read faster than we ever could — sweeping thousands of documents, drafting summaries, cross-checking claims against sources, finding the study we’d never have found. They also draft prose — including, we’ll say it before you do, versions of this page.
“Humans direct, AI drafts” is what everyone says. The question that actually matters is: why should you trust any of it? Our answer is the same answer we give for everything: nothing here asks to be trusted because of who — or what — wrote it. AI systems are famous for confidently making things up. We know. That failure mode is precisely why the receipts architecture exists: a claim either traces to a real, archived, checkable source, or it’s labeled unverified, or it doesn’t ship. The pipeline was designed by a person who assumes the machine is sometimes wrong — the same way this project assumes we are sometimes wrong. Distrust, verified, all the way down.
What the machines don’t do: they don’t decide our values, they don’t approve publication, they don’t choose what the movement asks for — and they don’t get blamed. If you find an error, it’s ours, the humans’, because signing the work means owning its mistakes.
The whole story — who runs this, how the machines are governed, and what it all actually cost, to the dollar — is public, and it’s worth reading: the whole story.
This covenant versions in public. Version 2, 2026-08-13: rewritten in one voice; the reference depth — the full method, the complete invitation, the whole story — moved intact to the reference shelf, one click away. Version 1, 2026-08-12, merged four earlier pages onto this one; nothing from them has been deleted.
— The Unknown Soldier · uniteTOlove · Toronto