Health that is understood continuously, through a holistic understanding of one’s self.
Think back to when you last sustained a shift in your behavior for your health. Rarely was that shift catalyzed by the same age-old information of why you should be healthy or what you should do to be healthy. Rather, these moments are driven by the same undercurrent that drives all of human behavioral change: holistic understanding of one’s self.
Self-understanding is the oldest driver of human change, and the hardest to sustain. It asks you to pay honest attention to yourself continuously, without fatigue, without rationalization, without looking away. No one can do that alone.
We believe AI’s most profound contribution to health will not be a breakthrough in a lab. It will be giving every person a capacity they have never had: effortless, continuous knowledge of themselves. When people truly understand their own health, they don’t need to be told to change. They become capable of it. That is self-actualization. That is the future Auxillo is building toward.
We are tech-optimists and seldom work on problems we do not find meaningfully important in shaping the prosperity of mankind. We believe that AI, if cultivated and utilized by those who believe in a just universe, can help all of mankind become more prosperous. A prosperous species manifests in many ways, the most important being good health. Since the dawn of our existence, one’s health has been a largely uncontrollable fate, one smited by the universe to be either good or bad. Fortunately, our relentless drive to understand the natural world through science and technology has allowed humanity to reach out to the universe and take control of our health. However, we continue to just reach and have yet to fully grasp it with agency. We believe that AI will finally enable us that close contact.
One way AI is already helping us do so is through rapid advances in research. These advances have pushed the frontier of medicine at an unprecedented pace, moving us closer to a world of personalized therapeutics for each individual. They’ve also already started giving clinicians easy access to evidence-based care tailored to each unique patient.
But advances in research are only one half of the equation. The other half, and arguably the more important one, is having granular insights into the full spectrum of one’s health—how someone eats, moves, sleeps, and socializes with the world along with an assessment of how these factors influence their health through frequent biomarker testing. These insights become the foundation of the self-actualization of one’s health and can drive health behavior change. The reason this half is more important is an insight from history.
In the last century, the healthcare system has made incredible advances in learning about the diseases that burden us the most. We not only have the tools to treat many of these diseases but our depth of understanding has spanned so far and wide that we have even discovered many of the mechanisms that cause said diseases, acquiring the knowledge to prevent them in the first place. Yet, our country and the greater world in general, continues to be plagued by them. Discovery of the why is important but it does not get us past the finish line to better health.
“Discovery of the why is important. But it does not get us past the finish line to better health.”
The reason the granular insights matter more than any breakthrough in a lab is simple: they are the actual inputs to your health. How you eat, how you move, how you sleep, how you engage with the world around you—these are not secondary factors. They are the primary determinants of whether you stay healthy or become sick. Everything downstream—the diagnosis, the treatment, the prescription—is a response to what happens at this level. If you could truly understand and influence behavior here, you would prevent the need for most of what the healthcare system currently exists to do.
And yet, we have almost no ability to see ourselves at this level.
This is not a personal failure. It is a biological one. Human beings were built to sense acute threats—the surface that burns, the pain that warns, the predator that approaches. Our senses are extraordinary at detecting what might kill us in the next ten seconds. What they were never designed for are the slow, invisible processes that define modern disease—the gradual weight gain, the creeping blood pressure, the sleep that erodes by minutes each night, the stress that accumulates silently over years. The diseases that burden us most today are precisely the ones our biology cannot feel happening.
And here lies the paradox: to gain awareness of these processes on your own requires obsessive, continuous attention to your own health. Logging every meal, scrutinizing every night of sleep, questioning every choice. Not only is this unsustainable: it is its own form of unhealthiness. A life consumed by monitoring is not a life well lived. You should not have to be obsessed with your health to be healthy.
“You should not have to be obsessed with your health to be healthy.”
This is the gap that the world has tried, and so far failed, to close.
The conventional healthcare system cannot do it. It was built around the visit: an episodic model that captures a snapshot of your health a few times a year. The system is not designed, nor incentivized, to observe you continuously. Your doctor sees you for fifteen minutes and does the best they can with what they have. But what they have is a fraction of the picture.
Wearable technology and health apps tried to bridge this gap. They moved health tracking out of the clinic and into daily life, which was the right instinct. But they have delivered fragmented data without holistic insight—a step count here, a heart rate there—without connecting these signals into a coherent understanding. And the ones that try to go deeper demand so much active effort from the user—logging meals, answering prompts, interpreting dashboards—that almost everyone eventually stops. The intention was right. The execution asked too much.
No one has been able to connect the full picture—how you eat, how you move, how you sleep—into continuous, passive, personalized understanding that actually drives change. Until now.
“The intention was right. The execution asked too much.”
AI is uniquely suited to solve this problem. Not because it is intelligent in the way humans are (at least not yet), but because it can do the one thing that neither our biology nor our current tools can: observe continuously, synthesize across every dimension of health, detect patterns invisible to human senses, and do all of it without asking anything of you.
It does not replace your ability to know yourself. It gives you a sense you never had: one calibrated for the slow, chronic, invisible processes that evolution did not equip us to detect. It turns the ordinary data of your daily life into the self-understanding that drives real change.
“It gives you a sense you never had: one calibrated for the slow, chronic, invisible processes that evolution did not equip us to detect.”
This is what Auxillo is building.
We are starting with the people who need it most: elderly individuals managing chronic conditions, the loved ones we all worry about, the people for whom the gap between visits carries the most risk. We begin here not because the vision ends here, but because the urgency starts here.
Auxillo is a software layer—one that today lives in the home through intelligent, ambient monitoring, and tomorrow can live in a smart ring, a pair of glasses, a pendant. The form factor will change. The mission will not. Health that is understood continuously, connected always to the people who care for you.
We are building for a world where healthcare is not something you go to. It is something that is simply there. Where self-understanding is not a privilege of the disciplined few, but something available to every person. Where the full promise of AI in health is not just better science, but better lives.
That is self-actualization, made universal. That is the future we are building toward.