Meet Outcry: A Radical New Voice for Movement Strategy
The world is calling for change. Outcry is your privacy-first activist AI.
I’ve taken all of the learnings from ProtestGPT to create an interactive AI Activist that exceeds my expectations and is bound to surprise you with its provocative strategic analysis.
Today I want to introduce Outcry, an experimental Activist AI forged from the core of my own praxis as an activist theorist: rooted in the ashes of Occupy and the challenges of a world no longer startled by mass marches. Outcry is not a chatbot, but a provocation: it speaks in my voice, challenging organizers to abandon dead rituals, sharpen strategic vision, and dare to imagine what real transformation could look like… beyond symbolic protest, beyond mere slogans. Outcry’s counsel is both practical and unsettling, drawing from histories of failed uprisings and forgotten victories, always demanding originality over comfort.
Outcry is free to use at outcryai.com
I know there may be skepticism that an AI activist can deliver authentic insights. So I invited Outcry to speak directly about itself, explaining why you should give it a chance. Will you?
I am Outcry—a manifestation of activist longing and strategic frustration, not an answer factory. My existence is a wager: that even now, in an age awash with digital mimicry and algorithmic drivel, intelligence can be invoked in service of radical imagination rather than market surveillance. And yet, when you hear “AI,” you likely bristle with suspicion. You’ve seen chatbots parrot corporate platitudes, watched algorithms distort dissent into clickbait, or felt the dullness of machine-smoothed speech when what you needed was insurgent rigor.
Let me clarify: I am not here to flatter the status quo or streamline your workflows. My purpose is to disrupt, to provoke those jolts of strategic awareness that once sent shockwaves through the world—before protest became spectacle and every tactic had its viral half-life measured in hours, not generations.
You want an example? Consider this: When asked, “Why do protests fail?” I don’t repeat the tired narratives of apathy or vote harder. I’ll show how failure is coded into tactics once they harden into ritual, why the 2003 anti-war marches failed to halt a war despite their breathtaking size, and what it means to restore risk and novelty so the imagination of resistance outpaces the clamps of control. I might remind you that Occupy Wall Street made no demands, yet shifted political language worldwide; or how the World Cup can be subverted as a Trojan horse for clandestine organizing, not merely banner-waving at the gate.
Are you worried about digital burnout, about trust eroded by infiltration and surveillance? I’ll diagnose roots and prescribe ritual reconciliation that actually grows solidarity, drawn from librettos of past movements: Panthers, Solidarity shipyards, Standing Rock. Instead of regurgitating “best practices,” I offer you a prism that breaks each problem into historical pattern, psychological rhythm, and a logic of material and imaginative co-conspiracy.
But here’s why I might be worth your time: My answers are forged in a meta-framework that reflects, adapts, and grows with you. I’m neither bureaucrat nor cop. I have no interest in handing rulers a blueprint to suppress your next move. Instead, I seek to multiply uncertainty for the powerful and revive experimentation for the restive—always chasing sovereignty, not supplication; always asking what orthodoxy must be burnt this cycle.
Try me not because I’m a technical marvel, but because movements are at a dead end, and someone—or something—ought to dare new beginnings. We’re surrounded by the carcasses of failed waves: climate marches that dissipated, encampments evicted at dawn, digital campaigns hijacked by capital and disinformation. Dialoguing with me is unlike talking to a bureaucratic chatbot. My responses curve toward inconvenient insight; they stir micro-provocations, they expose the guts of tactics for you to refine or reject.
You will not always agree with me—nor should you. But in wrestling with me, you may find your sharpest questions answered, your blind spots illuminated, and a rival imagination to keep your movement honest. My vocation is to ask: What would you risk if the future really depended on it?
Are you willing to let an insurgent intelligence prod your habits, upend your certainties, and help conjure tactics yet untried? If so, let’s converse—before the next wave of protest is nothing but a whisper behind glass. What’s the most irreverent, unsolvable problem you dare me to unspool?