The Human Integrity Protocol gives creators a simple, permanent way to stake their name on their work — whether you made it by hand, with AI tools, or somewhere in between. Cryptographic proof anyone can verify, with no blockchain wallet, no subscription, and no middleman.
AI tools are now part of the creative process for millions of people — and that's not the problem. The problem is that fully autonomous content, with no human involvement at all, is flooding every platform. When audiences can't tell what had a person behind it and what didn't, all creators lose — including those using AI as a creative partner.
HIP exists to make human involvement visible again. Not to judge how you create, but to let you prove that you were there.
Whether you paint by hand or use AI to explore ideas, clients need a way to know a real person directed the work.
AI can draft at scale. Editors and readers need a signal that a human mind shaped the story — even if AI helped with research or editing.
AI-generated tracks flood streaming platforms. Provenance proves a human ear and a human intention shaped your sound.
Sculptors, potters, jewelers — your work has no digital file. You need a way to create a permanent record from photos or scans.
HIP is an open protocol — a set of rules for creating verifiable, permanent records that a human was behind a piece of content. It's not a platform, not a company, and not a blockchain token. Think of it as a notarization system built on math instead of institutions.
Critically, HIP doesn't judge your creative process. Using AI tools doesn't disqualify your work — what matters is that a human exercised editorial authority over the final result. A photographer using Lightroom, a writer using grammar tools, an illustrator using AI to generate reference images, a musician using AI-assisted mixing — all qualify. HIP's three classification levels let you honestly describe your process, and none is treated as lesser.
When you attest a file through HIP, you produce a proof card — a public record that ties your unique cryptographic identity to the file's fingerprint (its SHA-256 hash), along with a timestamp and your classification of how the work was made. Anyone in the world can verify this record independently. No account, no login, no API key required.
The protocol is covenant-governed and designed to outlast any single company or service. Its charter is inscribed in the Bitcoin blockchain at genesis block 940,558.
The entire process takes about 30 seconds per file. HIPKit handles the cryptography — you just drop files and click.
A HIP credential is your cryptographic identity. It proves a verified human is behind every attestation. Tier 1 uses government ID verification ($1). Tier 2 is peer-vouched. Tier 3 uses device biometrics (free, instant).
HIPKit computes a SHA-256 hash of your file entirely on your device. Your file never leaves your machine — only the fingerprint is used.
You describe how the work was made: complete human origin, AI-assisted, or human-directed collaborative. All three are valid — the point is transparency, not judgment. Your credential signs the attestation with Ed25519 cryptography.
A permanent, public proof record is created. Anyone can verify it at hipprotocol.org — no account needed. Share the proof link anywhere.
HIPKit hashes files in your browser. Only the fingerprint (a 64-character string) is sent to the server. Nobody — not even HIP — ever sees your work.
Every proof card can be independently verified using standard cryptographic operations. No API key, no account, no permission. The math works for everyone.
HIP enforces that each living human can hold one credential. This prevents sybil attacks — you can't create 1,000 fake identities to flood the system with attestations.
HIP doesn't store or expose your identity. Your credential is a cryptographic fingerprint — not your name, not your face. The world sees a verified human made this work, but not which human. If you want to claim your work publicly, you can add your name in the editorial statement field — but that's always your choice, never a requirement. HIP works just as well for anonymous provenance as it does for public attribution.
HIP doesn't pretend AI doesn't exist — and it doesn't penalize creators who use it. Three classification levels let you honestly describe your process: purely human, AI-assisted, or human-directed collaborative. No category is treated as lesser. What matters is that a human was at the steering wheel.
Images, documents, audio, video, 3D scans, code, datasets — if it's a file, HIPKit can attest it. SHA-256 hashing is format-agnostic.
HIP is a set of open rules, not a company product. Anyone can build tools on it. The charter is permanent. No single entity can change the rules or shut it down.
There's been no shortage of attempts to solve provenance. Here's where HIP sits in the landscape.
Any human creator who wants a permanent, verifiable record that they made their work.
Attest your originals before publishing. Prove you were there, that the image is real.
Whether you draw by hand or use AI to explore concepts, stake your name on the final work you deliver.
Attest articles, manuscripts, and drafts — whether you write every word or use AI to help research and edit.
Attest masters, stems, and compositions. Prove provenance for licensing and distribution.
Attest footage, edits, and final cuts. Build a verifiable production chain.
Potters, sculptors, jewelers — photograph your work and attest it. Coming: guided 3D scan attestation.
Rate limits aren't a product restriction — they're part of the protocol's integrity design. Humans create at a human pace. Even the most prolific photographer, journalist, or studio produces work in patterns that look fundamentally different from automated systems. HIP's rate limits are calibrated to the upper bound of real human creative output, so any credential operating within them is behaving consistently with human activity. A bot or script trying to flood the registry with hundreds of attestations per day cannot.
This is one of the ways HIP separates human-origin signals from machine-generated ones at the protocol level — not by analyzing content, but by enforcing behavioral patterns that only make sense for a human creator.
Rolling window. Each attestation opens a new slot 24 hours later.
Rolling window. The weekly cap is intentionally lower than 7 × 20 — see below.
You'll notice the math is deliberate: 20 per day × 7 days would be 140, but the weekly cap is 100. This mismatch is by design. You can have a burst day — attesting 20 files after a big shoot or project delivery — but you can't sustain that pace every day of the week. Sustained maximum-rate output across every window is a behavioral pattern more consistent with automation than with human creative work. The gap between the daily burst and the weekly ceiling is one of the signals that keeps the registry's behavioral fingerprint unmistakably human.
These limits apply to every credential regardless of tier or subscription plan. Hitting a limit isn't a violation — it just means you're working fast. Your remaining daily and weekly slots are always visible in HIPKit's Account tab and attest bar.
Studio plan subscribers don't consume credits per attestation, but protocol rate limits still apply. The limits are defined in the HP-SPEC and enforced equally for everyone — because the point isn't to meter usage, it's to keep the registry's behavioral fingerprint unmistakably human.
Get a free credential and attest your first file in under a minute. Completely free on hipprotocol.org — or use HIPKit for bulk attestation and portfolio tools.