It started with a message that looked official.

ADORASEC began after a fraud incident in my own family. A late-night text that looked like a bank message is a trap that a less technical person has almost no way of spotting. In that moment they are alone with one question — is this real? — and nobody to ask.

What surprised me afterwards was not that the fake message existed. It was that the genuine message had no way of proving itself either. The bank could not show it had written. The recipient could not check that it had. Both sides of an ordinary, legitimate communication were undefended, and the whole system quietly depends on people guessing correctly.

So I went to find out how big that was. Between July and September 2026 I asked ninety English councils, in writing, what they spend communicating with residents and what results they get. Sixty-four answered. Most could not produce the figures at all — not because they were hiding anything, but because nobody inside the organisation owns the question.

“No such job title exists for this work.”

An English borough council, in its FOI response

That sentence is the whole project. The channel through which an institution reaches every household it serves belongs to nobody in particular — and what nobody owns, nobody counts, nobody improves, and nobody can prove.

ADORASEC exists to make that channel provable. Not to detect what is fake — others are doing that, and from July 2027 they are required to. To prove what is real.