Leaked records expose Peter Thiel's secretive "Dialog" club and its roster of power players

 June 18, 2026 
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A trove of leaked records has pulled back the curtain on an invitation-only society led by billionaire investor Peter Thiel, one that counts a sitting U.S. senator, a Democratic congressman, top Silicon Valley executives, and hedge fund titans among its members. The group, called "Dialog," held off-the-record retreats featuring session titles such as "How's Your Sex Life?," "Build-a-Cult," and "Navigating WWIII," the New York Post reported, citing a Wired investigation that first published details from the leaked files.

The registration list for Dialog's 2026 retreat identified 222 attendees, sorted by membership status, "active member" and "guest" among the categories. The gathering is scheduled for August 12 through August 16 at a location described only as "outside Dublin."

Among those named in the directory: Sen. Ted Cruz (R-Texas), Rep. Jim Himes (D-Conn.), Palantir co-founder Joe Lonsdale, and unnamed executives from Google and DeepMind. Hedge fund billionaires, bestselling authors, and religious leaders also appeared on the list. None of the named individuals commented to Wired's report. The New York Post said it, too, sought comment from Thiel, Cruz, Himes, and Lonsdale.

What the leaked files reveal about Dialog

Dialog is described as gathering tech executives, government officials, and financiers for off-the-record retreats, the kind of private forum where the powerful talk candidly, or at least claim to. The leaked records go well beyond a guest list. They include members' political affiliations, personal predictions about the future of artificial intelligence, and participation in what amounts to an in-house matchmaking service.

Attendees were asked whether they were "looking for love" and could opt into a network designed to foster "meaningful connections for exceptional people." Members' self-described talents ranged from "funhouse construction" and backcountry skiing to "compassion and existential dread." Dialog reportedly assured members that certain information would remain private.

That assurance, obviously, did not hold.

The session titles alone tell a story. "How's Your Sex Life?" and "Build-a-Cult" are not your standard Davos fare. "Navigating WWIII" at least gestures toward a serious geopolitical concern, though bundling it alongside matchmaking questionnaires and self-help icebreakers raises fair questions about what Dialog actually is. A salon for the powerful? A social club dressed up in world-historical language? Something in between?

Thiel's global footprint and growing distance from the U.S.

The PayPal co-founder has for years headed Dialog, and his own movements have drawn attention well beyond the group. Thiel obtained New Zealand citizenship in 2011. More recently, the New York Times reported that he relocated his family to Buenos Aires, Argentina. He has also explored citizenship opportunities elsewhere, according to the Post's account.

Thiel has publicly warned about existential threats being used to justify a "one-world" government, a concern that resonates with many on the right who are skeptical of supranational governance and the erosion of national sovereignty. That skepticism sits in tension with his own globe-spanning network of residences, citizenships, and elite social infrastructure. Whether that tension is hypocrisy or hedging depends on your priors.

The broader pattern is worth noting. As Republicans confront internal challenges over who speaks for the movement, the revelation that one of the party's most influential donors runs a secretive, bipartisan social club with matchmaking features and cult-themed programming is, at minimum, a complication.

The bipartisan guest list problem

Cruz's presence on the list will surprise few who follow the senator's appetite for high-profile gatherings and media exposure. But the inclusion of Rep. Jim Himes, a Connecticut Democrat, underscores that Dialog is not a partisan operation. It is a class operation, an exclusive circle where the currency is proximity to wealth, technology, and power, regardless of party affiliation.

That should concern voters on both sides. When a Republican senator and a Democratic congressman attend the same off-the-record retreat, hosted by a billionaire with global citizenship interests and staffed with AI executives whose companies are reshaping the labor market, the public has a legitimate interest in knowing what gets discussed.

The leaked records do not reveal what was said in those sessions. They reveal only the architecture of the club: the attendee categories, the matchmaking opt-ins, the session titles, the self-described talents. What actually happens behind closed doors at a retreat called "Build-a-Cult" remains unknown. The name alone, though, suggests the organizers have a taste for provocation, or a blind spot about how it looks when the world's most powerful people gather in secret and joke about cult-building.

Political figures on both sides have faced scrutiny for the company they keep. As recent Republican clashes over institutional accountability have shown, voters expect transparency from their elected officials, especially when those officials appear on leaked rosters alongside tech oligarchs and anonymous hedge fund billionaires.

Silicon Valley's quiet power network

The presence of executives from Google and DeepMind on the Dialog attendee list adds another dimension. These are companies at the center of the AI revolution, a transformation that has already pushed 2026 tech layoffs past 50,000, by some counts. The people building the tools that eliminate jobs are, it turns out, attending the same exclusive retreat where attendees list "existential dread" as a personal talent.

Joe Lonsdale, the Palantir co-founder, is another name that carries weight. Palantir's government contracts and data analytics work have made it one of the most consequential, and controversial, firms in the national security space. Lonsdale's membership in Dialog connects the group to the defense and intelligence world, not just the consumer tech sector.

None of this is illegal. Private citizens, even powerful ones, are free to form clubs, attend retreats, and ask each other about their love lives. But the leak exposes a gap between how these figures present themselves publicly and how they spend their private time. Thiel warns about one-world government while running a globe-spanning invite-only society. Cruz campaigns as a populist fighter while attending a billionaire's matchmaking retreat in Ireland. Himes serves in Congress while socializing off the record with the very tech executives whose industries his committees oversee.

The contradictions do not require commentary. They speak clearly enough on their own.

What remains unknown

Critical questions remain unanswered. How were the Dialog records leaked, and by whom? What is the full scope of the leaked files, how many total records, covering what time period? What specific information did Dialog promise to keep private? And what, exactly, do members discuss in sessions with names designed to raise eyebrows?

The leak also raises questions about operational security for public officials. If a senator's membership status, political affiliation, and personal preferences can be exposed through a private club's records, that is a security concern, not just a gossip item. Elected officials sitting on sensitive committees have an obligation to think carefully about the organizations they join and the data those organizations collect.

In a political environment where figures on both sides face scrutiny for contradictory positions, the Dialog leak is a reminder that the most consequential networks in American life often operate far from public view.

The real issue

Dialog is not a scandal in the traditional sense. No laws appear to have been broken. No public funds were misused. But the leak illuminates something that ordinary Americans already suspect: the people who run the country, left and right, public and private, operate inside a shared social infrastructure that the rest of us never see. They attend the same retreats, answer the same matchmaking questionnaires, and sit through the same provocatively titled sessions while the voters who put them in office are left to wonder what "Build-a-Cult" means when a sitting senator is in the room.

Transparency is not optional for public servants. And when the powerful promise each other secrecy, someone eventually talks. That is not a bug. It is accountability working exactly as it should.

About Ken Jacobs

A Project of Connell Media.
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