Built against
a habit

Pocket started as a simple frustration: the tools that hold your financial life are strangely casual about the truth of it. Balances that double-count. Returns computed on dates the software invented. A price of $0.011 shown as $0. Each one small, each one defensible, and together they add up to an app you cannot quite trust with the one subject where trust is the point.

So Pocket's rule is boring and absolute: every figure on screen must be derivable from data that actually exists, and when it is not, the screen says so. The rule is enforced by an automated suite that runs against the maths on every build, and it has already killed features that looked good — a portfolio history line that assumed too much, an annualised return built on guessed dates.

The same honesty applies to what the app claims to know about you. A statement shows money leaving; it does not show what you watched, ate or enjoyed. Where a fact is yours to supply, Pocket asks once and labels the answer as yours.

Everything you own and spend, in one place — counted the way you would count it yourself, if you had the time and a very pedantic friend.