How Epstein's Men Beat #MeToo

New email disclosures reveal a profound apprehension of accountability among those championing the "anti-woke" movement.

Despite his death, Jeffrey Epstein appears to have achieved a disturbing posthumous triumph. While he was indeed arrested for sex trafficking minors and subsequently died in jail, his deeply entrenched racist and misogynistic ideology — which posited that affluent white men like himself were above reproach — seems to have found fertile ground and spread widely.

The recent release of Epstein’s documents makes this connection strikingly clear. A multitude of prominent "contrarians" and "anti-woke" figures, including Peter Thiel, Elon Musk, Larry Summers, Steve Bannon, and Donald Trump, emerge in these files. To echo a sentiment from George Carlin, it appears to be an exclusive club where the interests of its less-than-desirable members are perfectly aligned, suggesting a coordinated resistance to social justice initiatives.

The ability to review these emails unequivocally demonstrates that the "anti-woke" movement was far from a refined intellectual discourse pursued by impartial individuals genuinely concerned with free speech. Instead, it functioned as an influential social network of powerful figures who felt directly threatened by the #MeToo movement. The correspondence reveals Epstein himself actively orchestrated efforts to undermine #MeToo. In retrospect, it seems evident that the erosion of #MeToo’s impact has contributed to our current societal landscape, where vast wealth and power often appear to grant immunity from legal repercussions. The same key players remain involved.

A natural question arises: How did these individuals come to know each other?

Consider the numerous pronouncements regarding the perceived limitations and perils of #MeToo. Amusingly, Bari Weiss penned an entire article in The New York Times about "iconoclastic" members of the "intellectual dark web" who "talk constantly about the regressive left but far less about the threat from the right." Among this group was Sam Harris, an Epstein correspondent, to whom Epstein advised using "more charm and less argument" in debates. Several individuals mentioned in Weiss’s article later participated in her ill-fated endeavor to establish an "independent" institution, the non-accredited University of Austin. Much like the group Weiss profiled, the University of Austin ultimately became a tool of the far right.

It is more accurate to view these "anti-woke" "iconoclasts" as a loosely connected cohort sharing common objectives. This is not an abstract intellectual movement centered on free speech; otherwise, we would hear more from these figures about recent DHS actions targeting critics of Epstein's former associate, Donald Trump. Beyond Trump, two central figures emerge: Elon Musk and Peter Thiel. Both are extensively referenced in the Epstein files and possess compelling reasons to desire untouchability.

How, then, did these varied individuals establish connections? Epstein's campaign of influence began within the scientific community in the early 2000s, largely facilitated by John Brockman, a prominent literary agent, and his Edge Foundation. Epstein was the largest donor to this foundation. According to BuzzFeed News, "Foundations associated with Epstein provided $638,000 out of a total of almost $857,000 received by Edge" between 2001 and 2017, a sum without which "the nonprofit’s full range of exclusive events would not have been possible."

In a telling 2018 email to Brockman, Epstein stated: "john the old conferencess did not care about diversity I suggest you not either. the women are all weak ,and a distraction sorry, ."

Brockman, who began his career with underground films and Andy Warhol in the 1960s, aimed for Edge to "serve as a forum for big, intriguing and/or disturbing ideas advanced by intellectuals who have a track record of major achievements in their fields," as reported by The Guardian. The clear intention was to shape culture by disseminating these ideas.

Unsurprisingly, the group was predominantly male. The current email dump offers some insight into these demographics. This sentiment echoes a long-standing argument, championed by figures like Summers and Steven Pinker, another close associate of Epstein's within Edge itself, which asserts that the underrepresentation of women in the sciences is not due to discrimination but rather a lack of interest and/or aptitude. This assertion is demonstrably incorrect but aligns with the core principles of the "anti-woke" movement, which is fundamentally opposed to equality. One must acknowledge Epstein's bluntness: "the women are all weak" likely represents the most candid articulation of a significant portion of the "anti-woke" viewpoint. Just consider Mark Zuckerberg's recent declaration about his company's need for more "masculine energy!"

Epstein’s association with this influential group served to rehabilitate his public image. After all, he had previously pleaded guilty to "a single state charge of soliciting prostitution from girls as young as 14," as reported by the Miami Herald. Yet, here he was, mingling with "smart" individuals, some even perceived as culturally significant. For instance, a lengthy email exchange with artist Neri Oxman details efforts to coordinate a meal. Following a $125,000 donation from Epstein, Oxman provided him with a piece of her work. (Oxman’s current husband is billionaire Bill Ackman, a vocal hedge fund manager who recently donated $10,000 to the ICE officer who killed Renee Good.) These networking opportunities achieved another goal: they united numerous influential figures who could subtly suggest that concern over sexual harassment and assault was narrow-minded or prudish.

Scientists, perhaps, represent one of the most susceptible groups to influence. Furthermore, the arduous process of obtaining a PhD is tightly controlled by the most influential scientists in any given field, meaning dissent can severely impede one's career. Summers, whose 2005 speech suggesting women were inherently less capable was defended as an abstract intellectual inquiry, spent time emailing Epstein about the most effective ways to sexually harass a woman he was purportedly mentoring.

The exclusive male network at the Edge Foundation provided a crucial springboard for Epstein’s social connections. Their "Billionaires Dinner" in 2011, attended by Epstein, featured a number of familiar names that recur in the Epstein files: Musk, Sergey Brin, David Brooks, Marissa Mayer, Jeff Bezos, and Nathan Myhrvold (who would later introduce Epstein to Bill Gates). The "Billionaires Dinner" ceased after Epstein made his final donation to Edge.

Brockman also orchestrated a highly exclusive dinner in 2012, with an invitation list that included Bezos, Paul Allen, Brin, Anne Wojcicki, Larry Page, Evan Williams, and Myhrvold. Brockman instructed Epstein, "Please show up alone." Joichi Ito of MIT Media Lab also appears to have been willing to facilitate meetings between Epstein and "Bezos or 'Bill'." While the specific "Bill" is unclear, Bill Gates was certainly close with Epstein, so much so that the recently released documents reveal extensive contact between the two men.

The Miami Herald revisited Epstein’s case as part of the #MeToo movement, leading to his rearrest on sex trafficking charges in 2019. The #MeToo movement was founded on the radical premise that no individual, regardless of wealth or power, is above the law. Rape is illegal, as is sexual harassment. Indeed, some of the most prominent men accused of misconduct—Epstein, Harvey Weinstein, Bill Cosby—did face consequences.

There were also significant social repercussions: Powerful men resigned from their positions in disgrace, or in some instances, were terminated. Men in Silicon Valley did not escape these consequences. Before the Weinstein allegations surfaced, Travis Kalanick was ousted from Uber, the company he founded, following reports of a pervasive culture of sexual harassment. The New York Times reported on a payout Google made to Andy Rubin, the creator of Android, after he allegedly coerced an employee into sex; two other executives, David Drummond and Richard DeVaul, were also shielded from misconduct allegations. (Both co-founders, Sergey Brin and Larry Page, had dated employees. Eric Schmidt, the former CEO who has had multiple public relationships with women who are not his wife, even hired a mistress as a consultant.) Venture capitalist Justin Caldbeck resigned after multiple female entrepreneurs publicly accused him of unwanted sexual advances.

Oddly, these social consequences seemed to unnerve these individuals more than any legal ramifications. This is the origin of the "cancellation" panic—a fear that people might exercise their right to freedom of association to avoid individuals who, for instance, consorted with known pedophiles. After all, such actions are not illegal; they are simply morally reprehensible.

Social consequences are the primary focus of the Epstein file dump. Anyone with internet access and some free time can discover who was exchanging cordial emails with a malevolent figure. Consider Peter Attia, one of Bari Weiss's newly announced contributors to CBS News, who spent considerable time sending crude emails to a convicted sex offender, including, notoriously, one that noted "pussy is, indeed, low-carb." Like many women, I am disinclined to accept health advice from someone who makes such sexist remarks, largely because I doubt his concern for my well-being—and this holds true even without Epstein's involvement. Rather than succumbing to "cancel culture" by dismissing Attia, Weiss is retaining him, according to Status. However, Weiss appears unconcerned about Epstein's associates; she also named lawyer Alan Dershowitz, who represented Epstein and referred to him as a "close friend," as another new contributor.

Perhaps unsurprisingly, The Free Press, the outlet founded by Weiss, has published a series of articles downplaying the significance of the files. The most notable of the three questions whether society will ultimately regret the release of these documents. The suggestion that they might spread salacious (and untrue) gossip has some merit. However, that article overlooks a crucial point: had Epstein not evaded federal charges in 2008, there would be no impetus for these files to be released at all. (Indeed, the current president initially favored releasing the files before labeling their contents "made up" as further reporting highlighted the men’s relationships.) Their existence is a direct response to public distrust in the justice system’s capacity to hold powerful men accountable. As it happens, holding powerful men accountable was precisely the core objective of #MeToo.

Epstein appeared to monitor #MeToo closely, at times even seeming to position himself as a confidant for "canceled" men. In one email to Joichi Ito of MIT Media Lab, he wrote, "with all these guys getting busted for harassment , i have moved slightly up on the repuation ladder and have been asked everday for advice etc." In a 2018 email, Epstein mused, "instead of the friars club , can we do a pariahs club dinnr. woody me moonves wynn charlie matt. louis ck. etc."

Epstein meticulously tracked potential additions to this "club." For instance, Charlie Rose—who was seemingly close enough that Epstein recommended women to Rose as assistants—was accused of sexual harassment by over two dozen women. When the story broke, Epstein emailed multiple people, including Summers, with links to the news. He later wrote to journalist Michael Wolff, "saw charlie rose at haircutters/ s=ell shocked." Publicist Peggy Siegal emailed Epstein in 2018 about Steve Wynn resigning from the Republican National Committee due to sexual harassment accusations, remarking, "The witch hunt goes on." She suggested Epstein should have "double security" and "wear a wig and a baseball c=p in public." In 2018, Steve Bannon emailed Epstein a link to a Business Insider report about Tom Brokaw, who was also accused of sexual harassment. Bannon wrote, "Make sure Woody sees this," adding, "Nobody safe."

Even the relatively minor "Shitty Media Men" list—an anonymously edited spreadsheet detailing accusations against men—found its way into Epstein's emails. Lorin Stein, the disgraced former editor of The Paris Review who resigned after accusations of sexual impropriety, forwarded to Wolff an email from writer Stephen Elliott, who intended to sue the list’s creator because he did not know who had made the accusations against him. Epstein promised to "help anyway i can." Elliott sued Moira Donegan, the list’s creator, six weeks later.

The most extensive emailed advice appears to have been directed to physicist Lawrence Krauss. When Krauss was contacted by journalist Peter Aldhous for comment on a BuzzFeed story about sexual harassment allegations, he forwarded the email to Epstein and repeatedly sought his advice on how to handle Aldhous. (Krauss strenuously denies the allegations against him and states he "sought out advice from essentially everyone I knew.") Krauss also sent drafts of his proposed emails about the story to Epstein. "Impossible to publish anything about metoo, even if the =uthor was acquitted," Krauss wrote to Epstein. This was of particular interest to him because Krauss was planning to write his own #MeToo book, he noted in another email to Epstein. Later, he wrote to Epstein that a woman on a conciliation committee is "old.. not some young metoo bitch." This, Krauss observed, was good news.

At one point, Soon-Yi Previn, Woody Allen’s wife and the adopted sister of his children, emailed Epstein with the subject line "Did you see this in The New York Times today?" She wrote, "First time a guy wasn’t removed from his job right away due to the MeToo movement," adding, "First time a network decided after an investigation to believe their investigation and the guy as opposed to the woman." The specific article she referred to is not clear from the email.

Allen and Previn appear to have been close friends with Epstein, and the #MeToo allegations were of personal concern. Ronan Farrow, whose Harvey Weinstein exposé was a major feature of the movement, is also Allen’s estranged son—and his sister, Dylan, accused Allen of sexually abusing her when she was seven. In a 2017 Los Angeles Times article, she questioned why the #MeToo movement had spared Allen.

Days later, Wolff wrote to Epstein: "I have a bad feeling about this new Woody round. It =ould pull him into the general Harvey pool of the despised and shunned. Cl=arly what Ronan and company are hoping for. I think Bannon may be right. T=is is not going to end until Trump goes down."

"Strange time," Epstein replied. "I have two mo=e friends up to bat." Wolff told Epstein those friends would not be the last, adding, "Big names on the horizon: Michael Douglas, Larry Gagos=an, and still my favorite, Arthur Sulzberger." In an earlier email, Epstein suggested that Bannon may have a significant role to play in these ongoing cultural battles.