Errata
“The newspaper of record — for you. We issue formal corrections on the things you’ve said. Inflated job titles, misremembered dates, books you claimed to have read. Page A2, every morning, until the record is clean.”
The Problem
At brunch you said “Cornell.” You meant: a six-week summer program at Cornell in 2014. Someone is nodding too slowly. The vibe is shifting. Your credibility is being silently repriced and you have no editorial recourse.
The Solution
Every dubious claim you make is captured by our editorial desk (your phone, listening politely). Overnight, our copy editors issue tasteful corrections on errata.com/you, indexed by Google and quietly emailed to the affected parties. By 9am, the record is clean. You are now a serious person.
In our edition of June 11, 2026, the subject claimed at Saturday brunch to have “read Infinite Jest.” He read 64 pages, the foreword, and the Wikipedia synopsis. Errata regrets the error.
In the same edition, the subject described his side project as “cash-flow positive.” The side project is a Notion page. Errata regrets the error.
In a text dated June 9, 2026 · 7:42 PM, the subject stated he was “5 minutes away.” He had not put on pants. Errata regrets the error.
On a first date June 5, 2026, the subject described himself as “6 feet.” He is 5′10″ in sneakers. Errata deeply regrets the error.
The Wire
Every overstatement is classified, logged, and routed to the appropriate desk. Severity drives the size of the correction box.
Credibility Index
Your personal Bloomberg of being believed. Tracks rolling 30-day retractions against a baseline of “Things You Probably Said That Were Mostly True.”
Pricing
TAM
The Ask
$5M seed for: two ex-NYT copy editors, one libel lawyer (defensive), and an Oxford comma evangelist who will also handle PR.
Series A pitch:“We’re Snopes, but the subject pays.”
Correction: An earlier version of this pitch described the round as “oversubscribed.” It is not. Errata regrets the error.