Coracle helps you manage that care instead of just getting through it. Track what's happening, what you're trying, and what's actually working — so nothing gets lost, progress you might otherwise miss becomes visible, and, with your consent, your family's hard-won experience helps improve care for everyone.
Request early accessFamilies managing profound autism carry an enormous amount — behaviors, routines, what each therapy or medication seems to be doing, how their child communicates, what makes a good day different from a hard one. Most of it lives in your head, or scattered across notes and apps, and too much of it slips away. Coracle brings it into one place so that nothing gets lost — not the small wins, not the hard-earned insight about what actually reaches your child.
The idea is simple: instead of managing care from memory and instinct alone, you can track what you're doing, notice whether it's helping, and adjust with a clear picture in front of you. You log daily life, behaviors, goals, communication, and the interventions you're using — and over time, patterns emerge that are hard to catch in the moment, including the small, hard-won progress that ordinary tools tend to miss but that means everything.
And because families using Coracle keep track in a consistent, thoughtful way, something bigger becomes possible. With your consent, this real, lived experience — what's tried, what works, what doesn't — becomes the kind of evidence researchers have never been able to gather well, and that could genuinely improve care for profoundly autistic people everywhere.
Families managing profound autism do extraordinary work — often around the clock, for years. They become the world's leading expert on one person: how they communicate, what settles them, what a subtle shift in behavior might mean, which of a dozen interventions is quietly helping. But almost none of that is captured anywhere. It lives in memory, in scattered notes, in the exhausted heads of people with no time to write it down.
So things get lost. A strategy that worked six months ago is forgotten. Progress happens in increments so small that no one's sure it's real — and without a record, it's impossible to tell. A new caregiver, teacher, or clinician has to be brought up to speed from scratch, and years of understanding can't be handed over. Families are left feeling like nothing is working, even when it is.
Research runs into the same wall from the other side. To study whether care is helping, researchers need to measure it — and the usual tools are periodic questionnaires built to compare large groups. They're valuable, but they're coarse. For a profoundly autistic person, the most meaningful changes are often too small or too individual for those instruments to see. Real progress gets recorded as "no change." Real effects get missed. The people who most need good evidence are the hardest to measure well.
Underneath both problems is the same gap: the day-to-day reality of care — what's actually happening, and what's actually working — is never captured in a way that helps the family or advances the science. Coracle exists to close that gap.
Everything stays private to your family by default. If you ever choose to contribute to research, that's a separate, deliberate decision you control — and we'll come back to exactly how that works below.
Before we built features families would see, we built the foundation underneath them: how accounts are protected, how each family's information is kept separate, and how every access is recorded. Here's what that means, in plain terms — and we've kept these claims to what the system actually does today.
Everything you record in Coracle is yours. It stays private to your family — separated from every other family's data on our servers — and it is never sold, shared for advertising, or used to profile you.
Research is always a separate, explicit choice. Coracle's larger purpose is to help improve care for profoundly autistic people through research — but that only happens if you choose it. Consent is recorded and controlled at the account-owner level, enforced on our servers, and you can change it. For individuals who cannot consent for themselves, that choice rests with a parent or legal guardian, as it should.
We're building the research side carefully, and we won't get ahead of ourselves in describing it. The tools that would prepare data for research — including how information is de-identified before it's ever shared — are still being developed, in partnership with researchers and families. Until they exist and meet a real standard, no family's data is shared for research. We'd rather tell you plainly what isn't built yet than imply a protection we haven't earned.
Our commitment is simple: nothing about your data will be vague or buried. You'll always know what's collected, who can see it, and what leaving means.
You know your child in a way no one else ever will. Coracle isn't here to change that — it's here to hold everything you know, so less of it falls on your memory alone.
See progress you were starting to doubt was real. When change comes in tiny increments, it's easy to feel like nothing's working. Coracle helps you look back and see the movement — the transition that's a little easier now, the behavior that's less intense than it was three months ago.
Stop losing hard-won knowledge. The strategy that finally worked. The particular way your child asks for help. The thing that set off a hard day. It's all captured, so you're not rebuilding it from memory every time.
Mark the trail, so no one starts from zero. A new aide, a teacher, a grandparent stepping in — instead of years of understanding trapped in your head, there's a real record you can share. You've walked a hard path; Coracle lets you leave markers along it, so the people who help your child can find their way faster, and your child is understood even when you're not in the room.
Make clearer decisions with your child's team. Walk into an appointment or a meeting with what actually happened, not a best guess. When you can show the pattern, everyone around your child can help them better.
Feel a little less alone in it. Managing profound autism can be isolating. Coracle won't change how demanding it is — but having a clear picture, and knowing nothing important is slipping away, can lift a real weight.
Profound autism is one of the hardest things in the field to study well. The people who most need good evidence are often the least served by the instruments available to measure them — and the researchers working on their behalf know it better than anyone.
Coracle approaches this from a different direction. Instead of periodic questionnaires layered on top of family life, it captures care as it actually happens: what's tried, what changes, how a specific person communicates, how they respond — continuously, and grounded in the individual. When many families track care this consistently, the result is longitudinal data structured around real outcomes and real problems, on a population that existing methods struggle to reach.
We think this could enable better measurement, not just more data. Standardized instruments are built for comparability across groups — essential, but often too coarse to register the small, individual changes that define progress in profound autism. Continuous, individualized records hold the opposite strength: deep relevance to the person, but harder to compare. The real opportunity is to bridge the two — measures that are meaningful to the individual and comparable across a population. That's a genuine research problem, and not one we intend to solve alone.
This is an invitation, not a finished platform. We're building Coracle's research capabilities in partnership with the researchers who'll use them — co-developing what gets measured, how consent and de-identification work, and how the data can meet the standards real science requires. If you study autism and this resonates, we'd like to talk early, while the foundations are still being shaped.
All research use rests on informed, guardian-appropriate consent, and on data governance built for a vulnerable population. Families share only if they choose to, and always on terms they control.
Coracle began with a simple conviction: that the families living this life hold knowledge the world badly needs, and that too much of it is lost — to exhaustion, to memory, to tools that were never built for them.
We want to change that. Not just so each family can manage their own child's care better — though that comes first, and always will — but so that the hard-won understanding of one family can reach the next. A cairn is a small stack of stones left by someone who walked a hard path before you, so the next traveler doesn't lose their way. That's what we're building: a way for everything you learn to become a marker on the trail — for your own family today, and, if you choose, for every family who comes after.
Where we're heading. Coracle is early, and deliberately so. We're building it alongside the people who use it — families and researchers — and letting their needs set the direction rather than a roadmap fixed in advance. That's not a slogan; it's how we intend to run. What we're working toward:
These aren't promises with dates attached. They're the direction we're walking — and the families and researchers who join early will help shape the path.
Better care for profound autism, built by the people who understand it best. That's the whole of it. If that's a trail you want to help mark, we'd love to have you.
Coracle is early, and we're growing it deliberately — a few families at a time, alongside the researchers helping us build it right. We're not opening the doors to everyone yet, because the people trusting us with something this personal deserve a system that's ready for them.
If you're a parent or caregiver of a profoundly autistic person, or a researcher working in this field, and what you've read resonates — we'd like to hear from you. Early families and partners will help decide what Coracle becomes.
Tell us a little about your situation, and we'll be in touch. No pressure, no obligation — just the start of a conversation.