A company born in the shadow of 9/11 and named after a seeing stone of deception now sits at the center of Britain's most sensitive public institutions — processing the health records of patients, the intelligence of soldiers, and the surveillance data of police forces. Palantir's £600 million foothold in the British state has become a mirror in which a society confronts an old and unresolved question: when a government outsources its most intimate knowledge to a private foreign power, who truly governs? The backlash — crossing party lines, drawing a quarter of a million signatures, and prompt
Palantir's $375bn rise sparks UK backlash over data access and state power
Control means whatever Trump thinks it means
Mark
Why does Palantir attract so much more criticism than other data companies doing similar work?
Mimi
Because it's not hiding what it is. Karp publishes manifestos about Western superiority and AI weapons. The company's name comes from a tool of domination in Tolkien. It's almost like they're daring people to object.
Mark
But the NHS and police need data analytics. What's the alternative?
Mimi
That's the trap. There may not be a good one. But the question isn't whether we need the technology—it's whether we should buy it from a company controlled by Americans, especially when US law could force it to hand over our data.
Mark
Palantir says it only processes data according to customer instructions. Isn't that a safeguard?
Mimi
On paper, yes. But contracts can be rewritten. Laws can change. And if a future government wanted to use this data for immigration raids or surveillance, the infrastructure is already there.
Mark
Is the controversy actually about Palantir, or is it about something bigger?
Mimi
Both. Palantir is real—the contracts are real, the data access is real. But it's also become a symbol for people's fear that tech companies have too much power and that governments have given it to them too easily.
Mark
What does Karp actually want?
Mimi
He wants Palantir to be seen as essential to Western power. He believes tech companies should build weapons and police systems. He thinks the West is superior and should act like it. He's not trying to hide any of this.
Mark
Could Palantir actually be overvalued, as some investors claim?
Mimi
Possibly. But that's almost beside the point now. The real damage is already done—the contracts are signed, the data is flowing, and the infrastructure is in place.
O Pulso
- A firm with roots in post-9/11 surveillance and clients ranging from the Israeli military to US immigration enforcement now holds the NHS's patient data, raising alarms that sensitive British records could be compelled into American hands under Trump-era law.
- CEO Alex Karp's combative public persona — a 22-point manifesto asserting Western superiority, declarations of being 'completely anti-woke,' and vocal support for AI weaponry — has transformed a data-processing contract dispute into a culture-war flashpoint.
- London's mayor blocked a £50 million Metropolitan Police deal, nearly 250,000 people signed petitions demanding the government sever ties, and MPs are now questioning contracts across agencies from the NHS to the Financial Conduct Authority.
- Palantir insists its software only does what clients instruct and that misuse would be illegal, but critics warn that 'highly interoperable' systems designed to connect data across institutions are precisely the architecture through which state power can be abused.
- Beneath the political noise, a quieter challenge is forming: short-sellers and skeptics question whether Palantir's technology actually delivers what its $375 billion valuation promises, or whether the controversy itself has become the company's most effective product.
A company born in the shadow of 9/11 and named after a seeing stone of deception now sits at the center of Britain's most sensitive public institutions — processing the health records of patients, the intelligence of soldiers, and the surveillance data of police forces. Palantir's £600 million foothold in the British state has become a mirror in which a society confronts an old and unresolved question: when a government outsources its most intimate knowledge to a private foreign power, who truly governs? The backlash — crossing party lines, drawing a quarter of a million signatures, and prompting a London mayor to block a police contract — suggests the answer troubles far more people than the company anticipated.
Palantir, the American data analytics firm now valued at $375 billion, has become one of the most contested presences inside the British state. Its software processes NHS patient records, supports military coordination, and feeds information to police forces — all under contracts worth £600 million. The company's name comes from Tolkien: a magical seeing stone used to deceive and dominate. The founders did not choose it carelessly.
Founded in 2003 by Peter Thiel in the aftermath of 9/11, Palantir's client list spans the Israeli military, US Immigration and Customs Enforcement, and now a significant portion of British public services. When it listed on US markets in 2020, its value surged over 1,500 percent on the back of AI enthusiasm — but the listing also prompted Amnesty International to publish a detailed human rights critique. The backlash in Britain has since grown: two petitions gathered nearly 250,000 signatures, and London's mayor Sadiq Khan blocked a £50 million deal with the Metropolitan Police, citing a mismatch in values.
The deepest anxiety concerns data sovereignty. The Financial Times reported that NHS England granted Palantir access to patient data before it had been anonymised. A health justice charity warned that the company's interoperable architecture could enable immigration-style data raids on British citizens. An MP raised the prospect that US law could compel Palantir to hand sensitive British information to the Trump administration — a concern that feels less hypothetical by the week.
Much of the controversy has crystallised around CEO Alex Karp, who published a 22-point manifesto implying Western civilisational superiority and arguing that Silicon Valley should build weapons and policing tools for the state. The document, drawn from his book The Technological Republic, accelerated scrutiny the company did not need. Karp has responded by framing his critics as politically motivated, and Palantir maintains that misuse of its software would be both illegal and a breach of contract.
Yet the unease persists — and it has taken on a second dimension. Some investors, including the short-seller made famous by The Big Short, argue the company is vastly overvalued and vulnerable to competition. Others question whether Palantir's technology performs as advertised, or whether the controversy has outgrown the product. What the episode has made undeniable is a broader fear: that personal data, once surrendered to a private firm entangled with American political power, may never return to anything resembling public control.
Palantir, the American data analytics company now valued at $375 billion, has become one of the most contentious firms operating inside the British state. Its software processes patient records for the NHS, helps coordinate military operations, and feeds information to police forces across the country. Yet the company's rapid expansion into sensitive government systems has triggered a backlash that cuts across political lines—a rare thing for a data-processing firm, and one that says something about how deeply the company has unsettled public trust.
The company was founded in 2003 by Peter Thiel, the tech billionaire and Trump ally, in the aftermath of 9/11. Its name comes from Tolkien's Lord of the Rings: a magical seeing stone used to deceive and dominate distant lands. The metaphor is not accidental. Palantir's clients span from the Israeli military to US Immigration and Customs Enforcement, from the NHS to constabularies across the UK. The company holds contracts worth £600 million with British government agencies alone. Last month, London's mayor Sadiq Khan blocked a £50 million deal between Palantir and the Metropolitan Police, saying the city wanted public money flowing to companies that shared its values.
The company's growth has been staggering. When it listed on the US stock market in 2020, its value jumped by more than 1,500 percent, riding a wave of enthusiasm for artificial intelligence and the reality that governments worldwide were adopting its tools. But that same listing prompted Amnesty International to release a report detailing serious human rights concerns, particularly around Palantir's work with ICE. The criticism has only intensified. Earlier this year, nearly a quarter of a million people signed two separate petitions calling on the government to end its contracts with the firm. One petition read: "Our NHS and other public services shouldn't be cutting deals with a private company that helps armies kill people."
Much of the anxiety centers on data access and the question of who controls it. Last month, the Financial Times reported that NHS England had given Palantir and other contractors access to patient data before it had been anonymized, as part of a £330 million contract. A briefing by the health justice charity Medact warned that Palantir's "highly interoperable" software could enable "data-driven abuses of state power"—the kind of immigration raids associated with ICE. Martin Wrigley, an MP, voiced concern this week about a contract between the Financial Conduct Authority and Palantir, warning that a foreign-controlled company could be compelled by US law to hand over sensitive British data to the Trump administration. "In the days of Donald Trump, control means whatever Trump thinks it means," he said.
Much of the controversy swirls around the company's CEO, Alex Karp. The 58-year-old, raised by progressive parents—an African American artist and a Jewish pediatrician—has become an unlikely lightning rod. He has declared his company "completely anti-woke," voiced strong support for the Israeli military during the Gaza war, and championed AI weaponry. Earlier this year, he published a 22-point manifesto on X that implied Western civilization was superior to others and argued that Silicon Valley should build weapons and police capabilities. The manifesto seemed to come from nowhere; Palantir didn't need to publish it. It was based on Karp's book, The Technological Republic, which envisions a merger between big tech and government. The document turbocharged scrutiny of the company.
Karp has pushed back hard against his critics, arguing that his opponents are primarily political rather than commercial. "The woke left and the woke right wake up every day figuring out how they can hurt Palantir," he said in an interview last year. Palantir itself maintains that its software is used only to process data according to customer instructions and that using it otherwise would be illegal. The company says it has no intention of enabling data-driven abuses and would be in breach of contract if it did.
Yet skepticism persists. Some observers wonder whether the noise around Palantir—the manifestos, the political theater—is itself a form of distraction. Michael Burry, the investor made famous by The Big Short, has taken a short position against Palantir, arguing the company is massively overvalued and vulnerable to competition. Others ask whether the hype around Palantir's technology actually matches what it can do. The real question, some suggest, is not whether Palantir is too powerful, but whether it works as advertised. What is certain is that the company's expansion into the heart of British public services has exposed a deeper anxiety: the fear that personal data, once handed to a private firm with ties to American power, may never truly be under public control again.
Citações Notáveis
Our NHS and other public services shouldn't be cutting deals with a private company that helps armies kill people— From public petition against Palantir
In the days of Donald Trump, control means whatever Trump thinks it means— Martin Wrigley MP, on concerns about US government access to British data
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Leia o original em The Guardian ↗
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