Frequently asked questions.

AI learned from somebody. It learned to write from real books, learned to see from real faces, and learned to build worlds from real places — and most of the people behind those books, faces, and places were never asked. ChapterIP is being built to change that.

We make the tools that let you say: this is mine, here's the proof, and if you want to use it — ask.

Anyone with something worth protecting. Writers and artists who want their work respected. Performers and public figures whose faces travel further than they do. People who own remarkable places. And the companies who would rather do this the right way — with permission — than take and hope nobody notices.

Because the asking never happened. AI arrived by helping itself first and leaving the questions for later. Now the rules, the courts, and the deals are catching up — and when they do, the people holding proof will be the ones who get protected and paid.

The best time to plant your flag was before all this. The second-best time is today.

Join the waitlist on our homepage. It costs nothing, and waitlist members walk through each new door first as we open them. What's available today is free while we build.

Yes. Today's AI learned to write by reading an enormous share of everything humans have ever published, and learned to see from billions of pictures of real people and real places. Most of it was gathered quietly, without asking the people it came from.

That's not a conspiracy theory — it's simply how these systems were built. And it's the problem ChapterIP exists to fix.

Honestly? No one can promise you that today — and you should be wary of anyone who does. What you can do is make your ownership impossible to argue with.

The rules and the deals are arriving. When they do, the difference between “I think that's mine” and “here's my proof” will be everything.

The same thing it means for a landlord and a tenant. A license is permission with a name on it — who may use the thing, for what, for how long, and for how much. Instead of your work being taken for free, someone who wants it comes to you, agrees to your terms, and pays.

Our job is building the road that makes those agreements easy to make and easy to keep.

Imagine sealing a copy of your story in a glass box, with today's date etched into the seal. Years from now, no matter who claims what, you can point to it: this existed, exactly like this, on this day.

That's what a record does. Your work gets a fingerprint that only that exact version can produce — change a single comma and the fingerprint changes — and that fingerprint is sealed together with the date.

No — and we're honest about that. A sealed box proves what was inside and when it was sealed. It doesn't say who wrote the pages; anyone can seal a copy of anything.

Saying “I made this” is its own separate promise, one you choose to add — and the record keeps the two claims apart, so neither one oversells the other.

No. Copyright is born the moment you create something — it's already yours. Some countries have an official place to sign your work in; many don't have one at all.

Think of our records as a reliable witness you can call on. They back you up; they don't replace the official route where one exists. And for a real dispute, bring a real lawyer — we're not one.

No — and we think you'll like why. Your record uses the same kind of math that blockchains made famous: a fingerprint that only your exact file can produce. But there are no coins, no tokens, and nothing to trade.

Just the proof, in a document you keep.

No wallet, no tokens, nothing to buy. An NFT is a receipt made to be traded on a market. Our record is closer to a dated, witnessed letter in your drawer — it isn't for selling, it's for proving.

When you put work on record, it never leaves your device. Your own browser makes the fingerprint right there on your machine, and only the fingerprint goes into your documents.

We can't read what we never receive — and that's the point.