Most clinic software is a database with forms on top — every relationship re-entered by hand, in multiple places, until one goes stale. Cue is built on a graph of who cares for whom, and on the same behavioral principles you use every day.
← Back to the overviewUnderneath every screen is one structure: the live relationships between kiddos, clinicians, sessions, authorizations and programs. Not a table of rows — a graph of who is responsible for whom, right now.
Everything else is a view of it. That's why assigning an RBT to a case adds them to the care-team channel, why ending an assignment removes them the same afternoon, and why nobody in your clinic has to remember to keep multiple systems agreeing with each other.
K. Reyes was assigned this morning. Nobody added her to the channel, granted her chart access, or updated a distribution list. The graph gained one edge and every surface followed.
This is the whole mechanism. K. Reyes is an RBT at your clinic; Maya R. is a kiddo on your caseload. Nothing below is a separate permission — every one of them reads the same assignment.
If the science works on behavior, it works on software that shapes behavior. These aren't metaphors we reached for afterwards — they're the reasons specific things in Cue are built the way they are.
You don't wait for the behavior and then correct it — you change what comes before. Software usually does the opposite: it lets you make the mistake, then puts it in a report.
In Cue: scheduling checks the authorization balance, credentialing and supervision ratio before the session sticks. The timely-filing guardrail stops the claim before the window closes rather than counting the ones you missed.No BCBA writes a plan before collecting baseline. So when Cue adds a detector, it runs in shadow mode first: computing everything, notifying nobody, for a month.
In Cue: a clinical lead reviews the weekly list of alerts the system would have sent and says which were worth reading. Only then does anyone get notified. Shipping a noisy alarm on day one is how a clinician learns to ignore it."Aggression" isn't a target until it has a definition, examples and non-examples. We hold our own vocabulary to the same standard.
In Cue: an active kiddo is any client with at least one scheduled or completed session in the billing month — which is why your invoice is checkable rather than negotiable, and why a slow month costs less without a phone call.The intervention only counts if it's delivered as written. Integrity checks are how you know the data means anything at all.
In Cue: a protocol change is versioned, never overwritten, and the app records who has read which version. Session data is stamped with the version in effect when it was collected — so "did the change work?" is answered from data, not memory.Behavior that gets reinforced repeats. Most clinic software only ever contacts staff about what's late, wrong or unsigned — a pure punishment schedule, and then everyone wonders about morale.
In Cue: praise is a first-class message type in chat, and improvement shows up alongside the problems. The daily brief that only reports bad news gets read like a nag, and then not at all.Continuous reinforcement satiates. Every clinician knows what happens to a prompt delivered too often — it stops being a prompt.
In Cue: one alert per behavior per week unless it materially worsens, nothing at all for three sessions after you've already acted, and a minimum change threshold so a rounding error never reaches your phone.The clinic runs on evidence.
So does the software.
Anything a person has to remember to keep accurate eventually isn't. So the numbers that matter here aren't fields somebody types — they're derived from records that already exist, by rules you can read. Those rules are below.
When you confirm cover for a session, Cue evaluates the candidate against the graph before the write is allowed: is the credential current on the date of service, is the person free for the whole block, are they assigned to this client or does the assignment need creating, is the caseload within its cap, and does the payer recognise them as a rendering provider for this code. Each answer is shown with its reason. A failing check does not silently exclude somebody — it appears in the list with the reason it failed, because “M. Bright cannot bill this” is more useful to an owner than M. Bright quietly not being there.
The same pattern runs before a claim can be submitted: note reviewed by the person who delivered the session, co-signed by the supervising clinician, and hours actually available on the authorization. Cue assembles and blocks. A person submits.
A note on what these claims are. What follows describes how we chose to design the software, drawing on the same literature your team works from. They are design principles, not validated behavioral outcomes: we have not run studies showing that these choices change clinician behavior, and we do not claim they do. Where a mechanism is just a mechanism, we say so.
Most clinic software only ever contacts staff about what is late, wrong or unsigned. We wanted the staff-facing side to carry completed work too, and we shaped it using the same distinctions your team already makes about what separates meaningful acknowledgment from noise — specific rather than generic, and not delivered so constantly it stops being read.
To be plain about it: we cannot tell you that a message from Cue functions as a reinforcer for any particular person. Whether something reinforces is defined by its effect on behavior, and we have not measured that. What we can tell you is exactly what the software does and does not send.
Press the button a few times. Every acknowledgment reaches the person. Only some of them celebrate.
not null with a length floor, so "Great job" cannot be submitted on its own. Naming what was done is the whole point of the field.A unit gets delivered once and then has to appear in several places — the session, the authorization balance and the claim. Everywhere else those are separate numbers that agree until they don't, and the first time you find out is a denial for units you had already used.
Here they are one number. A billed line is matched to the authorization it burns — by auth number, then CPT, then payer, then status — and written as an event keyed to its source record. Import the same billing file twice and the balance does not move.
Per-seat pricing punishes you for hiring. Per-record pricing punishes you for keeping a history. Both are a bet that you will not notice the meter running on people you are not treating.
An active kiddo is one with at least one scheduled or completed session in the billing month, on a client record that is still active. It is an operational definition, held to the standard we would hold a target behavior to — countable, checkable, and the same for everyone.
The behavior engine, the burnout alerts, the denial trends — all of them compare a thing to its own recent history rather than to a fixed number. A fixed rule flags the same BCBA every single week and never flags the part-timer whose load just doubled, and a rule that always fires for the same person is one people learn to scroll past.
And we use median and MAD, not mean and standard deviation. Toggle the outlier below to see why. One catastrophic session inflates the standard deviation so much that the detector goes quiet for months — exactly when you need it awake.
Cue was built with Flow — a design language that believes clinical software should feel as intuitive as the best consumer apps.
What's critical is loud. What's contextual is quiet. Your eyes know where to go.
Things live where you expect them. Muscle memory in hours, not weeks.
Headline first, detail on demand. "Claim denied — $1,240 at risk" before the modifier code.
Critical items pulse gently. The interface stays composed even when your queue is full.
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