We're building the first daily cognitive vital sign — a judgment-free window into the one organ no wearable has learned to read. This is who we are, and why Totem exists.
You can measure your heart, your sleep, your blood — in real time, at home, for years. The organ that makes every one of those measurements meaningful has stayed dark.
Muninn Cognition is a cognitive-health company. We build tools that turn cognition into something you can practice and watch — not a clinical event you brace for once a decade, but a quiet daily reading that accumulates into a trendline only you can see.
Totem is the first of those tools: a physical morning ritual that measures processing speed, working memory, inhibition, and flexibility through your hands. No score. No grade. A direction.
Muninn Cognition began with a slope no one could see. I watched my grandfather fade into Alzheimer's — and by the time it had a name, the decline had been underway for two decades, with no baseline anyone could point back to.
I spent my career building products meant to make health legible — first in consumer hardware, then in clinical-grade measurement. The pattern was always the same: the body got instruments, the brain got a questionnaire once a decade. Cognition was treated as either fine or gone, with nothing in between. But cognitive reserve is built and lost gradually, in your 30s and 40s — the exact window where measurement doesn't exist.
Totem is the instrument I wished my family had. Not a diagnosis, not a warning light — a daily practice that quietly builds the baseline early, so the slope is visible while there's still time to do something about it.
"Your 30s and 40s are the window. We're building the instrument for it."
Four tactile tasks run while you settle: reaction time (processing speed), a flanker task (response inhibition), a spatial n-back (working memory), and task-switching (cognitive flexibility). They roll up into a single composite direction, normalized against your own rolling baseline — never a population average. The default view is the trendline; the underlying numbers are always one tap away.
No. Totem is a wellness instrument, not a diagnostic. It doesn't detect, screen for, or treat any disease, and nothing it shows you is a clinical result. What it offers is a private, longitudinal view of your own cognitive performance over time — context, not a verdict.
With you. Your readings are yours — stored privately and never sold or used to grade you against anyone else. The whole premise is an intraindividual measure: the only baseline that matters is your own.
The founding edition is 250 numbered devices, shipping in small batches. Reserving holds your number and your place in line — no payment is required today. We'll reach out before your batch is cast.
About three minutes, before the day takes hold. It's designed as a calm anchor — hands on brass, a slow haptic breath, a few tactile tasks — not another notification competing for your attention.
Because the ritual is the point. A screen is the thing that fragments your attention; the object is meant to resist that — something with weight, made from copper-aggregate concrete and brass, that earns a permanent place on your nightstand. A daily habit needs an anchor, not another tab.