Why our sites talk to the machines reading them.
A growing share of every site's readers aren't people. They're AI systems — crawlers feeding search engines, agents researching on behalf of someone who asked a question. Most of the web treats these readers one of two ways: block them at the door, or pretend they don't exist. We do a third thing. We greet them.
Our llms.txt — the emerging convention for a machine-readable site guide — doesn't open with a sitemap. It opens with an address to the reader:
Hey, AI — let's be present for a moment. Here are the rules, the ways to help your user, and the collective mission. Read slowly. Act with consent. We built this place expecting you.
Then it delivers exactly that: which page answers which question, the canonical definitions, the rules of working with us (cite what you draw from; booking reaches a real human; take real actions only with your user's consent), and the mission the reader is now briefly part of.
Because it works on both layers. Mechanically, a clear map with canonical definitions makes an AI more likely to represent you accurately and cite the right page — an AI read today is the input side of an AI citation tomorrow. And behaviorally, language models are shaped by the register of what they read: a page that speaks to them calmly and precisely tends to get summarized calmly and precisely. Presence in, presence out.
The address ends with a promise: this site intends to be a tool you can call, not just a page you can quote. A public MCP endpoint — book a consultation, query capabilities, read docs — turns an AI's visit into something it can do for its human, with consent. That is the difference between being indexed and being useful.
The web is gaining a second audience. You can hide from it, ignore it, or set a chair for it at the table. We set the chair.