A newly leaked membership list from Dialog, an invitation-only organization co-founded by billionaire investor Peter Thiel, has reignited one of America’s oldest fears: that the country isn’t really governed by elected officials, but by a small, interconnected network of elites operating behind closed doors. The leak itself appears to be genuine and has been independently reported by multiple outlets, including WIRED, which says internal records and membership directories were left exposed online and later verified. According to those reports, Dialog was founded in 2006 and hosts private, off-the-record retreats attended by leaders from politics, technology, finance, media, and academia. The organization has kept its membership secret for years, leading some to compare it to the Bilderberg Group—a long-rumored gathering of global elites that has fueled speculation and conspiracy theories for decades.
The names reportedly appearing on the leaked list span the political spectrum and include some of the most influential figures in the United States today. Among the politicians and public officials said to be involved are Ted Cruz, Cory Booker, Tulsi Gabbard, Jared Polis, Wes Moore, Julian Castro, Jim Himes, and Jared Kushner. The list also reportedly includes major figures from technology and media, such as Elon Musk, Ezra Klein, Joseph Gordon-Levitt, along with executives tied to artificial intelligence, venture capital, and Silicon Valley. The sheer breadth of the roster is what has captured the public imagination. Conservatives, liberals, celebrities, journalists, entrepreneurs, and government officials all appearing under the umbrella of the same secretive organization naturally raises eyebrows and invites questions about what exactly is happening behind closed doors.
For many Americans, this leak will seem to confirm their worst suspicions. How is it that politicians who publicly disagree on almost everything can belong to the same exclusive organization? Why are billionaires, intelligence officials, senators, governors, journalists, and tech executives all meeting in private? What exactly is discussed when cameras are off and the public isn’t invited? Those questions naturally fuel concerns about a so-called “deep state”—the belief that an invisible, bipartisan establishment exercises power regardless of who wins elections. To many skeptics, this is not merely a social club or networking group. It looks like evidence that the real centers of power exist outside democratic institutions and that elections merely determine who speaks for the public while a permanent elite class quietly shapes the country’s future.
And to be fair, the perception problem is real. When powerful people gather secretly, public trust suffers. When organizations refuse to disclose their members, people assume there is something to hide. And when ordinary citizens feel increasingly powerless while wealth and influence become concentrated among a tiny elite, stories like this do not emerge in a vacuum—they fit into an already existing narrative that the rules are different for those at the top. The Dialog leak is especially striking because it reportedly includes individuals from both left and right, establishment Democrats and conservatives alike. To skeptics, this looks less like democracy and more like an elite class protecting its own interests while political battles play out on television for everyone else.
But there is another side to this story, and it is important not to ignore it. Secretive does not necessarily mean sinister. History is full of private forums where influential people meet: business conferences, academic retreats, policy think tanks, and informal gatherings designed to encourage candid discussion. The annual Bilderberg meetings, for example, have long attracted conspiracy theories, yet no concrete evidence has ever emerged showing that they secretly govern the world. Likewise, being listed as a member of Dialog does not prove wrongdoing, corruption, or collusion. Some attendees may have joined only once. Others may disagree vehemently with Peter Thiel’s views. Still others may attend precisely because they want to engage with people outside their ideological bubble.
In fact, the leaked roster reportedly includes people who are political rivals or who have publicly criticized one another. That reality cuts against the notion that everyone involved shares a single agenda. It is entirely possible that the meetings are exactly what their organizers claim: a place where influential people exchange ideas and debate important issues away from the pressures of social media and public grandstanding. Even some of the conference topics that sound provocative—subjects reportedly involving artificial intelligence, geopolitics, “Build-a-Cult,” and the future of society—do not necessarily imply malicious intent. Conferences often use provocative titles to spark debate rather than endorse the ideas being discussed.
Still, there is a legitimate debate to be had. Should elected officials participate in secret organizations? Should journalists attend private gatherings alongside the very people they cover? Should intelligence officials, CEOs, and lawmakers be expected to disclose these affiliations to the public? Those are fair questions, and citizens have every right to ask them. Transparency has long been viewed as a cornerstone of democracy, and when influential figures operate in private, skepticism is inevitable.
The Dialog leak may not prove the existence of a shadow government or a hidden cabal directing America’s future. But it does reveal something undeniably true: a relatively small group of influential people has access to one another in ways ordinary citizens do not. Whether that represents healthy networking among leaders or an unhealthy concentration of power is a question Americans will continue debating long after the headlines fade. And perhaps that is the real significance of this leak—not that it proves the deep state exists, but that it exposes just how fragile public trust has become when powerful people operate behind closed doors, leaving millions to wonder who is really running the country.
Who’s To Blame For The Measles Outbreak?
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An interesting segment on MSNOW’s All In with Chris Hayes took up the recent measles outbreaks appearing in several parts of the United States, and the thrust of the discussion left little room for ambiguity. Hayes framed the issue as one of clear responsibility, arguing that the resurgence of measles could be laid at the feet of HHS Secretary Robert F. Kennedy Jr. His guest, Dr. Peter Hotez, fully endorsed that view, tying the outbreaks directly to Kennedy’s long-standing skepticism toward vaccines and suggesting that his influence and policies had helped create the conditions for a public-health setback many believed had been settled decades ago.
After posting the segment on my X account, I was struck by the volume and intensity of the reaction. What stood out most was how sharply many viewers disagreed with Dr. Hotez’s conclusion that Kennedy alone was to blame. A significant share of the pushback came from Kennedy supporters and MAHA advocates, who argued that the segment ignored other plausible explanations for the spike in cases and instead defaulted to a neat but overly simplistic villain.
To their credit, the defenses offered were not frivolous. The most common argument centered on immigration, with critics pointing to the Biden administration’s border policies and asserting that millions of unvaccinated migrants entered the country over the past several years. In that telling, the rise in measles cases is less a consequence of Kennedy’s tenure at HHS and more the predictable outcome of population flows that public-health systems were unprepared to fully screen or vaccinate at scale. Whether one accepts the numbers often cited or not, the broader point they raised was that outbreaks do not occur in a vacuum and cannot be explained solely by the views of one cabinet secretary.
Others highlighted comparative data, noting that Canada—despite having a far smaller population—has reported higher measles case counts than the United States. That comparison, which does check out, was presented as evidence that blaming Kennedy exclusively does not withstand scrutiny. If a country with different leadership, a different health minister, and broadly pro-vaccine public policy is experiencing an even larger outbreak, then the causes are likely more complex than a single official’s ideology.
A third line of argument leaned heavily on lived experience. Many commenters recalled that measles was common when they were children, rarely fatal, and often treated as an inconvenient but unremarkable rite of passage that kept kids home from school for a week. From that perspective, they questioned whether measles should be treated as a dire public-health emergency at all, arguing that it is generally mild, rarely deadly, and even beneficial in building natural immunity. That view, while controversial and disputed by much of the medical community, remains deeply ingrained among a sizable portion of the public and cannot simply be dismissed as ignorance or bad faith.
Taken together, these reactions underscore a larger reality that the segment only partially captured. There is little dispute that a rise in measles cases is a legitimate concern and that public-health officials should take outbreaks seriously. It is also fair to scrutinize Secretary Kennedy’s anti-vaccine record and question how his rhetoric may shape public attitudes. But it is far less convincing to argue that the problem can be laid entirely at his feet. Immigration patterns, international trends, historical experience, and long-standing skepticism about vaccines all intersect here, complicating any attempt to assign singular blame. Reasonable people can agree the outbreak deserves attention while also recognizing that responsibility is more diffuse than the television debate suggested.