Tokens ≠ Knowledge
A Personal Quest for a Cognitive Exoskeleton
I, Sunghyun Cho, grew up with a reverence for encyclopedias and the idea of a single authoritative repository of knowledge. As a child, I pored over Encyclopedia Galactica, imagining a world where all my projects and research could live inside a universal reference. Later I discovered Vannevar Bush's 1945 essay As We May Think, which described the Memex: an archive that lets individuals store records and retrieve them through associative trails. That vision felt like a cognitive exoskeleton.
By the time I began my own career in the 21st century, the internet had become a rough approximation of a global Memex. Yet something was missing: it preserved collective records but failed to capture the individual's mind, including personal context, evolving insights, and living ideas. I experimented with second brain tools and digital garden practices, only to find them too manual and too brittle. I wanted an externalized digital brain that could grow and adapt with minimal friction.
That realization kicked off Project Aldehyde, my attempt to build a superset of the Memex for personal use. Years of iteration culminated in my May 2022 essay Creating Next-gen Digital Brains, which argued that friction is the enemy of personal knowledge workflows: the best way to manage a garden is not constant tending, but cultivating a digital jungle that self-organizes. You should be able to throw in raw knowledge and let the system organize, link, and resurface it.
By mid-2022, I implemented a prototype using a static-site pipeline from Obsidian to the web and named it Extracranial. It was a personal digital brain that auto-indexed content, suggested backlinks, allowed old posts to decay unless marked evergreen, and operated bilingually across the Sprachraums. It freed me from micromanaging links and let me focus on writing and thinking.
However, as I built that personal wiki, a larger problem came into view: even a perfect personal Memex is not enough if the broader epistemic environment is compromised. As generative AI became ubiquitous, the deeper question shifted from "how do I store knowledge?" to "how do we keep verification from collapsing when AI can flood systems with plausible text?"
From Digital Brains to Protocols
Traditional media enforce linear structure. Knowledge in practice is a network. The "next-gen digital brain" was my response to that gap. Its principles were straightforward:
- frictionless input — capture ideas without forced taxonomy
- automated organization — infer connections algorithmically
- dynamic evolution — let knowledge decay or stay evergreen
- multimodal content — diagrams, demos, interactive media
- seamless sources — connect notes to papers, code, datasets, and references
Manual linking can still refine understanding, but it should be optional. The system should do the heavy lifting.
By 2023, I was grappling with questions that transcended personal note-taking. AI-generated content threatened verification itself. I called the collapse scenario Encyclopedia Meltdown: when AI takes the initiative of writing, the responsibility line disappears and errors self-amplify through links.
The countermeasure is an epistemic protocol layer, a constitutional layer for knowledge systems. Its core commitments are sovereignty, traceability, and rebuttal-first validation to seek counterevidence before acceptance. This layer also addresses pressures like model collapse and the flood of AI slop by enforcing explicit provenance and zero-trust ingestion.
ScienceOps and Institutional Scale
Personal knowledge infrastructure solved convenience, not institutional scale. The next leap was ScienceOps: applying software-operations discipline to scientific research through reproducible experiments, automation, and fast iteration while introducing the role of the natural science engineer. When experiments become pipelines, not one-offs, the loop between hypothesis and verification can shrink dramatically.
The larger goal is a "GitHub for scientists" that treats experiments as code: versioned, repeatable, and auditable. That is the operational context that demands a cognitive engine like Coscientist.
Coscientist: Architecture, Agency, and Blueprint
Coscientist is the system that synthesizes these threads. It is a multi-agent LLM architecture designed to function as a research collaborator rather than a single answer engine. Its internal loop separates proposal, critique, ranking, and refinement, with a meta-review layer that checks coherence, traceability, and uncertainty.
At the knowledge layer, it maintains a Dialectical Graph that stores claims and relations rather than raw text. Narrative output is treated as a projection of an inference layer, so every statement can backtrack to sources, evidence spans, and explicit relations. This separation avoids the "smooth but unverifiable" failure mode of conventional generation.
Traditional AI safety often frames the problem as alignment. I emphasize cognitive agency preservation: AI should strengthen human judgment, not replace it. Practically, that means keeping the user in the role of verifier: showing work, surfacing uncertainty, presenting alternative hypotheses, and making rebuttal-seeking the default.
Coscientist is meant as a blueprint for a new epistemic infrastructure: frictionless yet sovereign, fast yet accountable, powerful without eroding agency. It targets three failure modes: institutional brain rot, verification collapse, and agency loss.
The long-term vision is a federated network of Coscientist instances at personal, organizational, and public scales that exchange validated knowledge while preserving local sovereignty. If you want a reading path, start with Creating Next-gen Digital Brains, then Encyclopedia Meltdown and the epistemic protocol layer, then Dialectical Graph and knowledge synthesis.