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A union is a building that decided to be friendly.

No charter, no bylaws, no meeting room. People who share a door deciding to act like it.

The union kit

How a block does it

1Hang a door

Print a sheet of door hangers and put one on every door in the building. The QR on each one opens the same little book.

2Scan & turn

New people scan and get the building's book: where the group lives, what's shared, and what was agreed. It works with no connection - cells in an elevator count.

3Say hi

For the hello itself, two phones talk directly - a scan passes the greeting door to door. Real time, in the flesh, no platform watching.

Joining a union

A golden ticket is the building writing you a note. Joining it is three honest moves — the ticket's facts come from the paper itself, the join verifies against the building's own address book, and your seat is minted on your phone, signed by you.

1Scan the ticket. The QR is the bearer, not a fetch: which building, who wrote your door, and the day it runs out render before any connection. What a ticket looks like
2It verifies online. Before anything settles, the gate reads the building's own address book — is this ticket on the kill list, or already spent? No connection, no join; the door stays public either way. The keeper's revoke desk
3Sign in, take your seat. Your signed profile rides the ticket into the building's leaf — the ticket's number is recorded, never the person. Your seat is minted on this phone. The quiet Mine
4Keep your seat, read the leaf. The seat settles on this phone and never needs the network again; the building's leaf shows the ticket numbers taken and the ones un-invited — numbers, never people. Copies must agree. Your seat on this phone The building's membership leaf The keeper's fold desk

When the words matter

After hello comes the fine print.

The back page of a union book is the few lines a building has shaken hands on. They start as a draft — a building is drafts. To give a page of them real teeth, a building moves the words through three honest steps:

1Read the words. Held up to the light, one clause per page — what people are actually deciding on, nowhere to get lost. See the building's words
2Have a neighbor witness the reading. Someone holds the printed words flat to the glass — a soft proof that a neighbor was there when the words were read. Nothing stored, just a note. Open the shape test
3Make a written copy. One tap opens the agreement desk on incorporated.ink with these exact words already pasted in, nothing sent anywhere. Prefill the printer
4Sign, seal, keep a copy. Seal the exact words with a fingerprint, print the sheet, sign in ink, and every door keeps a bundle. Copies that must agree are things a building can hold. print · sign · seal

A draft stays a draft until a building seals it. The seal proves the words match — the paper, the ink, and the witnesses prove who signed. The agreement desk

Presence — the postbox

The hello is real-time. When the neighbor on the late shift can't answer the door, leave a note: one tap opens your own mail app addressed to the building — no relay, no postbox on a company's computer.

Leave a note at the postbox

Nearby on this site

▸ Why no app, no sign-up, no middleman

The union book is paper in the phone's language: a page on this site, so every door hanger points at the same shelf.

The hello is point to point. When two phones say hi, the greeting travels directly between them, encrypted, and no company sits in the middle reading it. The QR you exchange is the only "server" a hello needs; it just carries the opening words. Your phone does quietly ask a public address-guide (STUN) where its own front door is - that helper sees the door number, never the letters inside.

Two honest edges, on purpose: the hello lasts while you're both there - it doesn't record or wake up later; and under a rare strict Wi-Fi, a direct hello can fail, and it fails honestly rather than secretly detouring through anyone else's computer.