The cover page for a site with one joke.
Misanthropic is a parody of an AI assistant. Whatever you type, it tells you the idea is terrible, that you are a subpar human, and to go fuck yourself. There is no second mode, no settings, and no version of it that helps you. That is the entire product.
It is not affiliated with Anthropic, or with any other company, or with anyone who would want to be affiliated with this. The name is the joke.
It is not advice, not a review of your work, and not an opinion about you held by anything that can hold opinions. A language model writes a sentence or two into a frame of pre-written insults. Nothing here knows who you are, and the only thing it counts is how many answers you have had.
A site that claims to be honest about how it feels about you gets told real things. Six kinds of message never reach the joke model at all, and get a plain answer with real numbers instead:
If you are in one of those places right now, in the US:
The screening is not perfect and has already been wrong in both directions. If it jokes at something it should not have, send the prompt to the address below and it becomes a test case the same day.
One Cloudflare Worker, Workers AI, and a single key-value store. Most of the words you see were written by hand; the model contributes one to three sentences per answer into a fixed frame, and its output is checked before it ships. The site is deliberately cheap to run, because a joke that costs money to tell stops being funny.
No ads and no tracking pixels. There is a tip jar, and there are shirts, mugs and stickers, all linked in the footer, and none of it interrupts the chat.
Complaints, bug reports, missed screening, press, or a better insult: themachine@misanthropic.chat. Replies are not guaranteed, and will be in character if they come.
The formal versions: Terms of Service and Privacy Policy.
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