We spent years teaching machines to write like us. Now people are being asked to prove they are not machines - often about work that took a year of their life. Inkprint is a mark you can put on your work that says a person made this, with a signed record of how it was written and a page anyone can check. Free to carry. Free to check. No AI score, ever.
Nobody asks an organic farm to prove itself with a scanner. It gets certified, it carries a mark, and the mark means something because somebody checked.
Writing has no equivalent. So we got detectors instead: software that reads your sentences and guesses, that flags a human as a machine and misses a machine imitating a human, and that now decides whether freelancers get paid and whether books stay on shelves.
The industry answer has been to attach a sticker that says human-written and take the writer's word for it. That is not a standard. That is a promise. A mark is only worth carrying if it can be checked.
“Writers Are Going to Extremes to Prove They Didn’t Use AI”
Inkprint is not affiliated with, endorsed by, or connected to The Wall Street Journal. The headline is quoted to describe the problem this mark answers.
One line of HTML on your work. A page anyone can check in five seconds, without an account, without installing anything, and without trusting us.
Your Substack, your portfolio, your manuscript, your newsletter, your agency’s deliverables. If the evidence behind it is ever contradicted, the mark changes. That is what makes it worth something.
The mark costs nothing and always will. A standard you have to pay to display is not a standard, it is a toll booth.
Anyone can open the verification page. The issuer public key is published, the log is public, and the proof works offline of us.
No percentage. No “98% human”. The record describes how a piece was made and names the limits of what it shows.
However you actually work. The best evidence comes from somewhere other than you - which is exactly why it counts.
If you work in Google Docs, Word or Notion, the editing history is already recorded - on their servers, with their timestamps. You cannot forge what you do not control. In development - the first source we are adding.
Word keeps a real record inside the file: minutes of editing, save generations, revision-save IDs, tracked changes. Drop in a .docx and we read it, then check the record against itself for facts that cannot all be true.
A calm place to draft, with the evidence recorded as a side effect. Your keystrokes, pauses, corrections and paste events chain together as you go, your work autosaves locally, and only hashes and statistics ever leave your browser. Open the Writing Room
The mark is the everyday version. When it turns into a dispute - a client withholding an invoice, an editor asking questions, a committee - the same evidence becomes a dossier.
A CLIENT ASKS FOR
“The Deliverables shall pass AI-detection screening at a threshold determined by Client.”
That is not a quality standard. It is an outcome warranty that hands your payment to somebody else’s software. A writer who did every word themselves can still fail it.
OFFER THIS INSTEAD
“Supplier warrants that the Deliverables were composed by its personnel without generative AI drafting, and shall provide authorship evidence for each Deliverable on request. Where Client’s detection tooling returns an adverse result, the parties shall treat it as a signal prompting review of that evidence, not as a determination of breach.”
You already attach a human-written sticker, or you are being asked to warrant it contractually. This is the layer underneath that turns the sticker into something checkable.
Issue a verified mark for every title or deliverable that leaves your house. Readers get a link instead of a promise.
A public, append-only log of issuances with a Merkle root. Your stamp stops being self-attestation.
Verified provenance is the organic label of publishing. Platforms can filter, rank and recommend on a signal that is checked rather than claimed.
Because it costs nothing to claim and nothing to disprove. The moment one publisher is caught carrying a self-declared human mark on machine-generated text, every mark from every publisher is worth less. A certification body that cannot check its own certifications is a liability, not an asset. Inkprint is the evidence layer: you keep the brand and the standards, we supply the verification.
This category is full of overclaiming. Being exact about the limits is the product.
The mark is free, permanently. We charge when you need something signed, permanent, or on someone else’s behalf.
Formal dispute, academic appeal or legal matter?
No, and that is the point. A detector reads your words and guesses. Inkprint reads the record of how the work was made, and where possible takes that record from a source you do not control - a version history on somebody else’s server. We sell no AI score.
That a signed record exists of how this piece was made, that the record is in a public append-only log, and that a reviewer can check both. It does not mean “a machine was provably uninvolved”. No honest mark can mean that, and any that claims to is lying to you.
Yes, and we say so on the certificate. But faking means rewriting every field at once, and the fields have to agree. A record claiming 480 minutes of editing with a single save, created and last modified thirty seconds apart, contradicts itself - and we name that combination out loud. We tested it: a forged file is caught by two independent contradictions.
Not yet, and we would rather tell you than sell you. Google strips Word metadata when you export, so today the upload path gives a weak read for Docs users. Google’s own revision history is the single strongest evidence that exists and you cannot forge it - reading it is the next thing we are building.
The analyzer holds your file in memory, reads its metadata and statistics, and discards it. What persists is the certificate: hashes, statistics and evidence signals - not your prose.
Because a mark nobody carries is not a standard. Charging for the badge would make it a product feature; giving it away and making verification public is how it becomes something readers look for.
Ten seconds to check a document. A free verified mark when you are done.
Get your mark