Alex Karp never learned to drive.
“I was too poor,” he said. “And then I was too rich.”
In fact, Mr. Karp, a co-founder and the C.E.O. of Palantir Technologies, the mysterious and powerful data analytics firm, doesn’t trust himself to drive. Or ride a bike. Or ski downhill.
“I’m a dreamer,” he said. “I’ll start dreaming and then I fall over. I started doing tai chi to prevent that. It’s really, really helped with focusing on one thing at a time. If you had met me 15 years ago, two-thirds of the conversation, I’d just be dreaming.”
What would he dream about?
“Literally, it could be a walk I did five years ago,” he said. “It could be some conversation I had in grad school. Could be my family member annoyed me. Something a colleague said, like: ‘Why did they say this? What does it actually mean?’”
Mr. Karp is a lean, extremely fit billionaire with unruly salt-and-pepper curls. He is introvert-charming (something I aspire to myself). He has A.D.H.D. and can’t hide it if he is not interested in what someone is saying. After a hyper spurt of talking, he loses energy and has to recharge on the stationary bike or by reading. Even though he thinks of himself as different, he seems to like being different. He enjoys being a provocateur onstage and in interviews.
“I’m a Jewish, racially ambiguous dyslexic, so I can say anything,” he said, smiling.
Unlike many executives in Silicon Valley, Mr. Karp backed President Biden, cutting him a big check, despite skepticism about his handling of the border and his overreliance on Hollywood elites like Jeffrey Katzenberg. Now he is supporting Vice President Kamala Harris, but he still has vociferous complaints about his party.
When he donates, he said, he does it in multiples of 18 because “it’s mystical — 18 brings good luck in the tradition of kabbalah. I gave Biden $360,000.”
The 56-year-old is perfectly happy hanging out in a remote woodsy meadow alone — except for his Norwegian ski instructor, his Swiss-Portuguese chef, his Austrian assistant, his American shooting instructor and his bodyguards. (Mr. Karp, who has never married, once complained that bodyguards crimp your ability to flirt.)
“This is like introverts’ heaven,” he said, looking at his red barn from the porch of his Austrian-style house with a mezuza on the door. “You can invite people graciously. No one comes.”
The house is sparse on furniture, but Mr. Karp still worries that it is too cluttered. “I do have a Spartan thing,” he said. “I definitely feel constrained and slightly imprisoned when I have too much stuff around me.”
So how did a daydreaming doctoral student in German philosophy wind up leading a shadowy data analytics firm that has become a major American defense contractor, one that works with spy services as it charts the future of autonomous warfare?
He’s not a household name, and yet Mr. Karp is at the vanguard of what Mark Milley, the retired general and former chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, has called “the most significant fundamental change in the character of war ever recorded in history.” In this new world, unorthodox Silicon Valley entrepreneurs like Mr. Karp and Elon Musk are woven into the fabric of America’s national security.
Mr. Karp is also at the white-hot center of ethical issues about whether firms like Palantir are too Big Brother, with access to so much of our personal data as we sign away our privacy. And he is in the middle of the debate about whether artificial intelligence is friend or foe, whether killer robots and disembodied A.I. will one day turn on us.
Mr. Karp’s position is that we’re hurtling toward this new world whether we like it or not. Do we want to dominate it, or do we want to be dominated by China?
Critics worry about what happens when weapons are autonomous and humans become superfluous to the killing process. Tech reflects the values of its operators, so what if it falls into the hands of a modern Caligula?
“I think a lot of the issues come back to ‘Are we in a dangerous world where you have to invest in these things?’” Mr. Karp told me, as he moved around his living room in a tai chi rhythm, wearing his house shoes, jeans and a tight white T-shirt. “And I come down to yes. All these technologies are dangerous.” He adds: “The only solution to stop A.I. abuse is to use A.I.”
Palantir’s name is derived from palantíri, the seeing stones in the J.R.R. Tolkien fantasies. The company’s office in Palo Alto, Calif., features “Lord of the Rings” décor and is nicknamed the Shire.
After years under the radar, Mr. Karp is now in the public eye. He has joked that he needs a coach to teach him how to be more normal.
Born in New York and raised outside Philadelphia in a leftist family, Mr. Karp has a Jewish father who was a pediatrician and a Black mother who is an artist. They were social activists who took young Alex to civil rights marches and other protests. His uncle, Gerald D. Jaynes, is an economics and African American studies professor at Yale; his brother, Ben, is an academic who lives in Japan.
“I just think I’ve always viewed myself as I don’t fit in, and I can’t really try to,” Mr. Karp said. “My parents’ background just gave me a primordial subconscious bias that anything that involves ‘We fit in together’ does not include me.
“Yes, I think the way I explain it politically is like, if fascism comes, I will be the first or second person on the wall.”
Mr. Karp has his own unique charisma. “He’s one of a kind, to say the least,” said the Democratic strategist James Carville, who is an informal adviser to Palantir.
When I visited the Palo Alto office, Mr. Karp accidentally knocked down a visitor while demonstrating a tai chi move. He apologized, then ran off to get a printout of Goethe’s “Faust” in German, which he read aloud in an effort to show that it was better than the English translation.
“If you were to do a sitcom on Palantir, it’s equal parts Larry David, a philosophy class, tech and James Bond,” he said.
Palantir was founded in 2003 by a gang of five, including Karp and his old Stanford Law School classmate Peter Thiel (now the company’s chairman). It was backed, in part, by nearly $2 million from In-Q-Tel, the C.I.A.’s venture capital arm.
“Saving lives and on occasion taking lives is super interesting,” Mr. Karp told me.
He described what his company does as “the finding of hidden things” — sifting through mountains of data to perceive patterns, including patterns of suspicious or aberrant behavior.
Mr. Karp does not believe in appeasement. “You scare the crap out of your adversaries,” he said. He brims with American chauvinism, boasting that we are leagues ahead of China and Russia on software.
“The tech scene in America is like the jazz scene in the 1950s,” he said in one forum. He told me: “I’m constantly telling people 86 percent of the top 50 tech companies in the world just by market cap are American — and people fall out of their chair. It’s hard for us to understand how dominant we are in certain industries.”
In the wake of 9/11, the C.I.A. bet on Palantir’s maw gobbling up data and auguring where the next terrorist attacks would come from. Palantir uses multiple databases to find the bad guy, even, as Mr. Karp put it, “if the bad guy actually works for you.”
The company is often credited with helping locate Osama bin Laden so Navy SEALs could kill him, but it’s unclear if that is true. As with many topics that came up in the course of our interviews in Washington, Palo Alto and New Hampshire, Mr. Karp zips his lips about whether his company was involved in dispatching the fiend of 9/11.
“If you have a reputation for talking about what the pope says when you meet him,” Mr. Karp explained, “you’ll never meet the pope again.”
He does crow a little about Western civilization’s resting on Palantir’s slender shoulders, noting that without its software, “you would’ve had massive terror attacks in Europe already, like Oct. 7 style.” And those attacks, he believes, would have propelled the far right to power.
Palantir does not do business with China, Russia or other countries that are opposed to the West. Mr. Thiel said the company tries to work with “more allied” and “less corrupt” governments, noting dryly that aside from their ideological stances, “with corrupt countries, you never get paid.”
“We have a consistently pro-Western view that the West has a superior way of living and organizing itself, especially if we live up to our aspirations,” Mr. Karp said. “It’s interesting how radical that is, considering it’s not, in my view, that radical.”
He added: “If you believe we should appease Iran, Russia and China by saying we’re going to be nicer and nicer and nicer, of course you’ll look at Palantir negatively. Some of these places want you to do the apology show for what you believe in, and we don’t apologize for what we believe in. I’m not going to apologize for defending the U.S. government on the border, defending the Special Ops, bringing the people home. I’m not apologizing for giving our product to Ukraine or Israel or lots of other places.”
As one Karp acquaintance put it: “Alex is principled. You just may not like his principles.”
Kara Swisher, the author of “Burn Book: A Tech Love Story,” told me: “While Palantir promises a more efficient and cost-effective way to conduct war, should our goal be to make it less expensive, onerous and painful? After all, war is not a video game, nor should it be.”
Mr. Karp’s friend Diane von Furstenberg told me that he sees himself as Batman, believing in the importance of choosing sides in a parlous world. (The New York office is called Gotham and features a statue and prints of Batman.) But some critics have a darker view, worrying about Palantir creating a “digital kill chain” and seeing Mr. Karp less as a hero than as a villain.
Back in 2016, some Democrats regarded Palantir as ominous because of Mr. Thiel’s support for former President Donald J. Trump. Later, conspiracy theories sprang up around the company’s role in Operation Warp Speed, the federal effort pushing the Covid-19 vaccine program from clinical trials to jabs in arms.
Some critics focused on Palantir’s work at the border, which helped U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement track down undocumented migrants for deportation. In 2019, about 70 demonstrators blocked access to the cafeteria outside the Palo Alto office. “Immigrants are welcome here, time to cancel Palantir,” they shouted.
The same year, over 200 Palantir employees, in a letter to Mr. Karp, outlined their concerns about the software that had helped ICE. And there was a campaign inside Palantir — in vain — to get him to donate the proceeds of a $49 million ICE contract to charity.
I asked Mr. Karp if Mr. Thiel’s public embrace of Mr. Trump the first time around had made life easier — in terms of getting government contracts — or harder.
“I didn’t enjoy it,” he said. “There’s a lot of reasons I cut Biden a check. I do not enjoy being protested every day. It was completely ludicrous and ridiculous. It was actually the opposite. Because Peter had supported Mr. Trump, it was actually harder to get things done.”
Did they talk about it?
“Peter and I talk about everything,” Mr. Karp said. “It’s like, yes, I definitely informed Peter, ‘This is not making our life easier.’”
Mr. Thiel did not give money to Mr. Trump or speak at his convention this time around, although he supports JD Vance, his former protégé at his venture capital firm. He said he might get more involved now because of Mr. Vance.
Palantir got its start in intelligence and defense — it now works with the Space Force — and has since sprouted across the government through an array of contracts. It helps the I.R.S. to identify tax fraud and the Food and Drug Administration to prevent supply chain disruptions and to get drugs to market quicker.
It has assisted Ukraine and Israel in sifting through seas of data to gather relevant intelligence in their wars — on how to protect special forces by mapping capabilities, how to safely transport troops and how to target drones and missiles more accurately.
In 2022, Mr. Karp took a secret trip to war-ravaged Kyiv, becoming the first major Western C.E.O. to meet with Ukraine’s president, Volodymyr Zelensky, and offering to supply his country with the technology that would allow it to be David to Russia’s Goliath. Time magazine ran a cover on Ukraine as a lab for A.I. warfare, and Palantir operatives embedded with the troops.
While Palantir’s role in helping Ukraine was heralded, its work with Israel, where targeting is more treacherous, because the enemy is parasitically entangled with civilians, is far more controversial.
“I think there’s a huge dichotomy between how the elite sees Ukraine and Israel,” Mr. Karp said. “If you go into any elite circle, pushing back against Russia is obvious, and Israel is complicated. If you go outside elite circles, it’s exactly the opposite.”
Independent analysts have said that Israel, during an April operation, could not have shot down scores of Iranian missiles and drones in mere minutes without Palantir’s tech. But Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu’s scorched-earth campaign in Gaza, the starving and orphaned children and the deaths of tens of thousands of civilians have drawn outrage, including some aimed at Mr. Karp and Mr. Thiel.
In May, protesters trapped Mr. Thiel inside a student building at the University of Cambridge. In recent days, senior U.S. officials have expressed doubts about Israel’s conduct of the war.
Mr. Karp’s position on backing Israel is adamantine. The company took out a full-page ad in The New York Times last year stating that “Palantir stands with Israel.”
“It’s like we have a double standard on Israel,” he told me. If the Oct. 7 attack had happened in America, he said, we would turn the hiding place of our enemies “into a parking lot. There would be no more tunnels.”
As Mr. Karp told CNBC in March: “We’ve lost employees. I’m sure we’ll lose more employees. If you have a position that does not cost you ever to lose an employee, it’s not a position.”
He told me, “If you believe that the West should lose and you believe that the only way to defend yourself is always with words and not with actions, you should be skeptical of us.”
He added: “I always think it’s hard because where the critics are right is what we do is morally complex. If you’re supporting the West with products that are used at war, you can’t pretend that there’s a simple answer.”
Does he have any qualms about what his company does?
“I’d have many more qualms if I thought our adversaries were committed to anything like the rule of law,” he said, adding: “A lot of this does come down to, do you think America is a beacon of good or not? I think a lot of the critics, what they actually believe is America is not a force for good.” His feeling is this: “Without being Pollyannaish, idiotic or pretending like any country’s been perfect or there’s not injustice, at the margin, would you want a world where America is stronger, healthy and more powerful, or not?”
Asked about the impending TikTok ban, he said he’s “very in favor.”
“I do not think you should allow an adversary to control an algorithm that is specifically designed to make us slower, more divided and arguably less cognitively fit,” he said.
He considered the anti-Israel demonstrations such “an infection inside society,” reflecting “a pagan religion of mediocrity and discrimination and intolerance, and violence,” that he offered 180 jobs to students who were fearful of staying in college because of a spike in antisemitism on campuses.
“Palantir is a much better diploma,” he told me. “Honestly, it’s helping us, because there are very talented people at the Ivy League, and they’re like, ‘Get me out of here!’”
Mr. Karp sometimes gets emotional in his defense of Palantir. In June, when he received an award named in honor of Dwight Eisenhower at a D.C. gala for national security executives, he teared up. He said that when he lived in Germany, he often thought about the young men from Iowa and Kansas who risked their lives “to free people like me” during World War II. He said he was honored to receive an award named after the president who had integrated schools by force.
Claiming that his products “changed the course of history by stopping terror attacks,” Mr. Karp said that Palantir had also “protected our men and women on the battlefield” and “taken the lives of our enemies, and I don’t think that’s something to be ashamed of.”
He told the gala audience about being “yelled at” by people who “call themselves progressives.”
“I actually am a progressive,” he said. “I want less war. You only stop war by having the best technology and by scaring the bejabers — I’m trying to be nice here — out of our adversaries. If they are not scared, they don’t wake up scared, they don’t go to bed scared, they don’t fear that the wrath of America will come down on them, they will attack us. They will attack us everywhere.”
He added that “we in the corporate world” have “to grow a spine” on issues like the Ivy League protesters: “If we do not win the battle of ideas and reassert basic norms and the basic, obvious idea that America is a noble, great, wonderful aspiration of a dream that we are blessed to be part of, we will have a much, much worse world for all of us.”
The wild origin story of Palantir plays like a spy satire.
After graduating from Haverford College, Mr. Karp went to Stanford Law School, which he called “the worst three years of my adult life.”
He wasn’t interested in his classmates’ obsession with landing prestigious jobs at top law firms. “I learned at law school that I cannot do something I do not believe in,” he said, “even if it’s just turning a wrench.”
He met Mr. Thiel, a fellow student, and they immediately hit it off, trash-talking law school and, over beers, debating socialism vs. capitalism. “We argued like feral animals,” Mr. Karp told Michael Steinberger in a New York Times Magazine piece.
The liberal Heidegger fan and the conservative René Girard fan made strange bedfellows, but that’s probably what drew them together.
“I think we bonded on this intellectual level where he was this crazy leftist and I was this crazy right-wing person,” Mr. Thiel told me, “but we somehow talked to each other.”
“Alex did the Ph.D. thing,” he continued, “which was, in some ways, a very, very insane thing to do after law school, but I was positive on it, because it sounded more interesting than working at a law firm.”
Mr. Karp received his doctorate in neoclassical social theory from Goethe University Frankfurt. He reconnected with Mr. Thiel in 2002, while working at the Jewish Philanthropy Partnership in San Francisco. The two began doing “vague brainstorming,” as Mr. Thiel put it, about a business they could start.
Mr. Thiel thought he could figure out how to find terrorists by using some of the paradigms developed at PayPal, which he helped found, to uncover patterns of fraud.
“I was just always super annoyed when, every time you go to the airport, you had to take off a shoe or you had to go through all this security theater, which was both somewhat taxing but probably had very little to do with actual security,” Mr. Thiel said.
They brought in some software engineers.
“It was two and a half years after 9/11, and you’re starting a software company with people who know nothing about the C.I.A. or any of these organizations,” Mr. Thiel recalled.
It was all very cloak-and-dagger, in an Inspector Clouseau way. They decided to seek out John Poindexter, a retired rear admiral who was dubbed the godfather of modern surveillance; Admiral Poindexter had been forced to resign as President Ronald Reagan’s national security adviser after the Iran-Contra scandal broke. After 9/11, he worked at the Pentagon on a surveillance program called Total Information Awareness.
During the meeting, Mr. Thiel said he felt he was in the presence of a medal-festooned, Machiavelli-loving member of the military brass out of “Dr. Strangelove,” with “a LARPing vibe.”
“We had a hunch that there was a room marked ‘Super-Duper Computer,’ and if you went inside, it was just an empty room,” Mr. Thiel said. They feared their budding algorithm “would end up in a broom closet in the Pentagon,” so they moved on.
In 2005, Mr. Thiel asked Mr. Karp to be the frontman of a company with few employees, no contracts, no investors, no office and no functional tech. “It charitably could have been described as a work in progress,” Mr. Thiel said.
Mr. Karp and his motley crew got a bunch of desks and explained to clients that they were unmanned because the (fictional) engineers were coming in later.
“God knows why Peter picked me as co-founder,” said Mr. Karp, who had to learn about coding on the job. “It was, in all modesty, a very good choice.”
Mr. Thiel explained: “In some ways, Alex doesn’t look like a salesperson from central casting you would send to the C.I.A. The formulation I always have is that if you’re trying to sell something to somebody, the basic paradox is you have to be just like them, so they can trust you — but you have to be very different from them so that they think you have something they don’t have.”
He said that Mr. Karp would not be suited to running Airbnb or Uber “or some mass consumer product.” But Palantir, he said, “is connected with this great set of geopolitical questions about the Western world versus the rising authoritarian powers. So if we can get our governments to function somewhat better, it’s a way to rebalance things in the direction of the West.”
“Normally,” Mr. Thiel continued, “these are bad ideas to have as a company. They’re too abstract, too idealistic. But I think something like this was necessary in the Palantir case. If you didn’t get some energy from thinking about these things, man, we would’ve sold the company after three years.”
Mr. Karp could not have been more of an outsider, to Silicon Valley and to Washington. He and his engineers had to buy suits for their visits to the capital. “We had no believers,” he said. “I kept telling Palantirians to call me Alex, and they kept calling me Dr. Karp. Then I realized the only thing they could believe in was that I had a Ph.D.”
The first few years, when tech investors were more interested in programs that let you play games on your phone, were rough. “We were like pariahs,” Mr. Karp said. “We couldn’t get meetings. If they did, it was a favor to Peter.”
With administrators in Washington, Mr. Karp recalled: “It was like, What is this Frankenstein monster doing in my office, making these wild claims that he can do better on things I have a huge budget for? How can it be that a freak-show motley crew of 12-year-old-looking mostly dudes, led by a pretty unique figure, from their perspective, would be able to do something with 1 percent of the money that we can’t do with billions and billions of dollars?”
“There’s nothing that we did at Palantir in building our software company that’s in any M.B.A.-made playbook,” Mr. Karp said. “Not one. That’s why we have been doing so well.”
He said that “the single most valuable education I had for business was sitting at the Sigmund Freud Institute, because I spent all my time with analysts.” When he worked at the institute in Frankfurt while getting his doctorate, Mr. Karp said, he would smoke cigars and think about “the conscious subconscious.”
“You’d be surprised how much analysts talk about their patients,” he said. “It’s disconcerting, actually. You just learn so much about how humans actually think.” This knowledge helps him motivate his engineers, he said.
Mr. Karp said he likes to think of Palantir’s workers as part of an artists’ colony or a family; he doesn’t use the word “staff.” He enjoys interviewing prospective employees personally and prides himself on making hires in under two minutes. (He likes to have a few people around who can talk philosophy and literature with him, in German and French.)
“A lot of my populist-left politics actually bleed into my hiring stuff,” he said. “If you ask the question that the Stanford, Harvard, Yale person has answered a thousand times, all you’re learning is that the Stanford, Harvard, Yale person has learned to play the game.”
Even if he gets a good answer from a “privileged” candidate and a bad answer from “the child of a mechanic,” he might prefer the latter if “I have that feeling like I’m in the presence of talent.”
He views Palantirians like the Goonies, underdogs winning in the end. “Most people at Palantir didn’t get to do a lot of winning in high school,” Mr. Karp said at a company gathering in Palo Alto, to laughter from the audience.
He thinks the United States is “very likely” to end up in a three-front war with China, Russia and Iran. So, he argues, we have to keep going full-tilt on autonomous weapons systems, because our adversaries will — and they don’t have the same moral considerations that we do.
“I think we’re in an age when nuclear deterrent is actually less effective because the West is very unlikely to use anything like a nuclear bomb, whereas our adversaries might,” he said. “Where you have technological parity but moral disparity, the actual disparity is much greater than people think.”
“In fact,” he added, “given that we have parity technologically but we don’t have parity morally, they have a huge advantage.”
Mr. Karp said that we are “very close” to terminator robots and at the threshold of “somewhat autonomous drones and devices like this being the most important instruments of war. You already see this in Ukraine.”
Palantir has learned from some early setbacks.
In 2011, the hacker group Anonymous showed that Palantir employees were involved in a proposed misinformation campaign to discredit WikiLeaks and smear some of its supporters, including the journalist Glenn Greenwald. (Mr. Karp apologized to Mr. Greenwald.) Then, at least one Palantir employee helped Cambridge Analytica collect the Facebook data that the Trump campaign used ahead of the 2016 election.
A pro bono contract with the New Orleans Police Department starting in 2012 was dropped after six years amid criticism that its “predictive policing” eroded privacy and had a disparate impact on people of color.
“We reduced the rates of Black-on-Black death in New Orleans,” Mr. Karp said, “and we have these critics who are like, ‘Palantir is racist.’ I don’t know. The hundreds of people that are alive now don’t think we’re racist.”
Mr. Carville, a New Orleans pooh-bah, asserted that the partnership ended because of “left-wing conspiracy theories.”
Palantir’s rough start in Silicon Valley came about, in part, because many objected to its work with the Department of Defense.
In 2017, Google won a Pentagon contract, Project Maven, to help the military use the company’s A.I. to analyze footage from drones. Employees protested, sending a letter to the C.E.O., Sundar Pichai: “Google should not be in the business of war,” it read. Soon after, Google backed away from the project.
In response, Palantir shaded Google in a tweet that quoted Mr. Karp: “Silicon Valley is telling the average American ‘I will not support your defense needs’ while selling products that are adversarial to America. That is a loser position.” Palantir picked up the contract in 2019.
That same year, Mr. Thiel said that Google had a “treasonous” relationship with China. When Google opened an A.I. lab in 2017 in China, where there’s little distinction between the civilian and the military, he argued, it was de facto helping China while refusing to help America. (That lab closed in 2019, but Google still does business with China, as does Apple.)
“When you have people working at consumer internet companies protesting us because we help the Navy SEALs and the U.S. military and were pro-border — and you’re becoming incredibly, mind-bogglingly rich, in part because America protects your right to export — to me, you’ve lost the sheet of music,” Mr. Karp said. “I don’t think that’s good for America.”
Scott Galloway, a professor at New York University and an authority on tech companies, agrees that many Silicon Valley C.E.O.s have been virtue-signaling and pretending to care about the progressive political views of employees, but really would sell “their mother for a nickel.”
“They’re not there to save the whales,” Mr. Galloway said. “They’re there to make money.”
He added: “Some of these big tech companies seem to be engaged in raising a generation of business leaders that just don’t like America, who are very focused on everything that’s wrong with America.
“Alex Karp is like, ‘No, we’ll cash the Pentagon’s check and we’ll collect data on our enemies.’ He’s gone the entirely opposite way, and I think it was a smart move.”
Palantir’s “spooky connotations,” as one executive put it, dissipated quite a bit when the company went public in 2020 and took on more commercial business; its clients include Airbus, J.P. Morgan, IBM and Amazon.
Mr. Thiel said that while Palantir had a brief stint working on a pilot program for the National Security Agency, the company would not want to do any more work there: “The N.S.A., it hoovers up all the data in the world. As far as I can tell, there are incredible civil liberties violations where they’re spying on everybody outside the U.S., basically. Then they’re fortunately too incompetent to do much with the data.”
The company has started turning a profit, and the stock has climbed. After a triumphant earnings report this month, Palantir’s stock price jumped again.
“The share price gives us more street cred,” Mr. Karp said.
In 2020, after 17 years in Silicon Valley, Mr. Karp moved Palantir’s headquarters to Denver. “I was fleeing Silicon Valley because of what I viewed as the regressive side of progressive politics,” he said.
He thinks that the valley has intensified class divisions in America.
“I don’t believe you would have a Trump phenomenon without the excesses of Silicon Valley,” he said. “Very, very wealthy people who support policies where they don’t have to absorb the cost at all. Just also the general feeling that these people are not tethered to our society, and simultaneously are becoming billionaires.”
“Not supporting the U.S. military,” he said, in a tone of wonder. “I don’t even know how you explain to the average American that you’ve become a multibillionaire and you won’t supply your product to the D.O.D. It’s jarringly corrosive. That’s before you get to all the corrosive, divisive things that are on these platforms.”
Akshay Krishnaswamy, Palantir’s chief architect, agreed on their Silicon Valley critics: “You live in the liberal democratic West because of reasons, and those reasons don’t come for free. They act like it doesn’t have to be fought for or defended rigorously.”
Mr. Karp said things had evolved. “I think there’s a different perception of us now a little bit. A lot of that was tied to Trump, ICE work. It built up and we were definitely outsiders. We’re still outsiders, but I feel less resistance for sure. And people have a better idea of what we do, maybe.” He added, “Defense tech is a big part of Silicon Valley now.”
The A.I. revolution, he said, will come with a knotty question: “How do you make sure the society’s fair when the means of production have become means that only 1 percent of the population actually knows how to navigate?”
I asked if he agrees with Elon Musk that A.I. is eventually going to take everyone’s jobs.
“I think what’s actually dangerous,” Mr. Karp replied, “is that people who understand how to use this are going to capture a lot of the value of the market and everyone else is going to feel left behind.”
Mr. Karp’s iconoclastic style and ironclad beliefs have inspired memes and attracted a flock of online acolytes — some call him Papa Karp or Daddy Karp. He has no social media presence, but his online fans treat him like a mystic, obsessing over the tight white T-shirts he wears for earnings reports, his Norwegian ski outfits, his corkscrew hair, his Italian jeans and sunglasses and his extreme candor. (In a recent earnings report, Mr. Karp dismissed his rivals as “self-pleasuring” and engaging in “self-flagellation.”)
He is not, as one colleague puts it, “a wife, kids and dog person.”
“I tend to have long-term relationships,” he told me. “And I tend to end up with very high IQ women,” including some who tell him he’s talking nonsense.
He prefers what he calls a German attitude toward relationships, where “you have a much greater degree of privacy,” he said, with separate bedrooms and “your own world, your own thoughts, and you get to be alone a lot.” There is much less requirement to “micro-lie” about where you were or whom you were with.
I asked Mr. Karp about his 2013 quote to Forbes that “the only time I’m not thinking about Palantir is when I’m swimming, practicing qigong or during sexual activity.”
He frowned, noting: “It should be tai chi. I don’t know why people always conflate tai chi with qigong. Yes, that was in my early days, when we were a pre-public company and I was allowed to admit I had sexual activity.”
So it’s true that the notion of settling down and raising a family gives him hives?
“There’s some truth in that,” he said. “This is how I like to live. See, I’m sitting here doing my freedom thing. I train. I do distance shooting.” He reads. “Who else has a Len Deighton spy novel next to a book on Confucian philosophy?”
Many of the doyennes of Washington society would love to snag the eligible Mr. Karp for a dinner party. He told me he has “a great social life.” But when I asked him what that is, he replied, “First of all, I’m a cross-country skier, so then I do all this training.”
He continued, “To have an elite VO2 max, an elite level of strength, it’s just consistency and the Norwegian-style training method.”
Some who know Mr. Karp said that the happiest they had ever seen him was last year when Mike Allen reported for Axios that the C.E.O.’s body fat was an impressive 7 percent.
Mr. Karp may be able to do more than 20 miles of cross-country skiing without being out of breath, but there are some sports at which, he admitted, he’s “a complete zero. For example, ball sports. I really suck at them.”
Unlike Mr. Musk and other tech lords, Mr. Karp is not into micro-dosing ketamine or any other drug. “My drug is athletics,” he said. “I love drinking, but now I’ve moved to drinking very little because what I’ve noticed is if you’re traveling all the time, the alcohol, it really affects your brain.” He’s on the road about 240 days a year.
Mr. Karp said of his dyslexia: “I think this is not getting less, it’s likely getting more. In 40 years, I’ll be unable to read.”
In New Hampshire, we had a lunch of lobster pasta — he kept his panic button on the table — and then went shooting on his property. He expertly hit targets with a 9-millimeter pistol from 264 yards. When an aide suggested that a photographer not shoot Mr. Karp in the act of shooting, he overruled the idea.
“Actually, honestly, guns would be much better regulated if you had someone who knows guns,” he said. “I’m not a hunter. I’m an artist with a gun.”
(Later, Mr. Karp pointed out that he had been shooting at targets that were about twice as far from him as Mr. Trump was from his would-be assassin. “There’s something really wrong with security for our future president, or maybe not future president,” he said. “All these people need a different level of security.”)
Mr. Karp believes the Democrats need to project more strength: “Are we tough enough to scare our adversaries so we don’t go to war? Do the Chinese, Russians and Persians think we’re strong? The president needs to tell them if you cross these lines, this is what we’re going to do, and you have to then enforce it.”
He thinks that in America and in Europe, the inability or unwillingness to secure borders fuels authoritarianism.
“I see it as pretty simple: You have an open border, you get the far right,” he said. “And once you get them, you can’t get rid of them. We saw it in Brexit, we see it with Le Pen in France, you see it across Europe. Now you see it in Germany.”
“They should be much stricter,” he continued. That, he said, “is the only reason we have the rise of the right, the only reason. When people tell you we need an open border, then they should also tell you why they’re electing right-wing politicians, because they are.”
“The biggest mistake — and it’s not one politician, it’s a generation — was believing there was something bigoted about having a border, and there are just a lot of people who believe that,” he said.
Weeks later, we were back in the Washington office, which is dubbed Rivendell, after a valley in Tolkien’s Middle-earth, and is filled with tech goodies like a Ping-Pong table, a pool table and a towering replica of Chewbacca.
We picked up our conversation about politics, talking about the swap of President Biden and Vice President Harris, the rise of JD Vance, the assassination attempt and the changed political landscape.
Mr. Karp concurred with his friend Mr. Carville on the problem of drawing men to the Democratic Party, saying, “If this is going to be a party complaining about guys and to guys all the time, it’s not going to succeed.”
He continued: “The biggest problem with hard political correctness is it makes it impossible to deal with unfortunate facts. The unfortunate fact here is that this election is really going to turn on ‘What percentage of males can the Democrats still get?’”
Describing himself as “progressive but not woke,” he said, “We are so unwilling to talk to the actual constituents that are voting for the Democratic Party who would probably strongly prefer policies that are more moderate.”
Given Mr. Karp’s blended racial identity, I wondered how he felt about Mr. Trump’s attack on the vice president’s heritage.
“I think people are most fascinated by the fact of this whole Black-Jewish thing,” he said. “I tend to be less fascinated by that.”
He added: “I think that people always expect me somehow to see the world in one way or another, and I don’t really understand what that means. I see the world the way I see it. I think, at the end of the day, if people want to choose what their identity is, then they choose it, and that’s their definition.”
I note that he recently made an elite list of Black billionaires.
He shrugged. “Some Black people think I’m Black, some don’t,” he said. “I view me as me. And I’m very honored to be honored by all groups that will have me.”
He added: “I do not believe racism is the most important issue in this country. I think class is determinate, and I’m mystified by how often we talk about race. I’m not saying it doesn’t exist. I’m not saying people don’t have biases. Of course, we all do, but the primary thing that’s bad for you in this culture is to be born poor of any color.”
He said he would support class-based affirmative action and declared himself “pro draft.”
“I think part of the reason we have a massive cleavage in our culture is, at the end of the day, by and large, only people who are middle- and working-class do all the fighting,” he said.
Since I had last seen him, Mr. Karp had gotten caught between two of the battling billionaires of Silicon Valley, lords of the cloud vituperously fighting in public over the possible restoration of Donald Trump.
According to an account in Puck, Mr. Karp was onstage with the LinkedIn co-founder Reid Hoffman at a conference last month in Sun Valley, Idaho, sponsored by the investment bank Allen & Company, when Mr. Hoffman called Mr. Thiel’s support for Mr. Trump “a moral issue.” Speaking up from his seat in the audience, Mr. Thiel sarcastically thanked Mr. Hoffman for funding lawsuits against Mr. Trump, which allowed the candidate to claim that he is “a martyr.”
Mr. Hoffman snapped back, “Yeah, I wish I had made him an actual martyr” — an unfortunate comment given what would later happen in Butler, Pa.
I asked Mr. Karp whether the encounter was as uncomfortable as it seemed.
“Well, I’m used to being uncomfortable,” he said. “I’m going to stick with my friends. I just feel the same way I always feel when Peter is under attack, which is: ‘This is my friend. I feel that my friend is being attacked, and I will defend him.’”
The fancy digital clock behind Mr. Karp’s desk, which tells time in German, had gone from “Es ist zehn nach drei” to “Es ist halb vier.”
It was time to go.
Maureen Dowd: You run the Twitter account Alex Karp’s Hair.
Alex Karp: I wish.
Your favorite movie is the classic kung fu flick “The 36th Chamber of Shaolin.”
One of my favorite movies.
You have 10 houses around the world, from Alaska to Vermont, from Norway to New Hampshire.
You have to reframe that as I have 10 cross-country ski huts.
You love the idea of Peter Thiel backing Olympic-style games where the athletes will dope out in the open.
Deny. I want the best cross-country skiers to win without doping.
You love to watch spy shows and German movies, and one of your favorite filmmakers is Rainer Werner Fassbinder.
Confirm.
You have 20 identical pairs of swim goggles in your office.
No longer. I used to. I gave up swimming. There’s an emptiness to it.
You commissioned a French comic book, “Palantir: L’Indépendance,” with yourself as the protagonist.
Oui!
You starred in a movie by Hanna Laura Klar in 1998, “I Have Two Faces,” where you looked like a young Woody Allen.
I look better than Woody Allen.
Your dissertation is about how people transmit aggression subconsciously in language, presaging the rise of the right in America and Europe.
Often, the more charismatic ideologies were, the more irrational they were.
The dissertation touched on expressing taboo wishes. Do you want to share some of those?
I would love to express taboo wishes with you, but not to your audience.
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