Clearing Epstein
The previous essay described a simple idea: someone sits in the middle of every transaction and decides whether it goes through.
It traced this from Alfred de Rothschild at a negotiating table. Over time it moved into international organisations, then into rule-making committees, then into computer models, and finally into money itself. At each step, the person in the middle gained more power over more transactions — while becoming harder to see.
The same clearing is happening with the coverage of the Epstein files.
Understanding how a system works matters more than knowing who runs it. Names change. People get replaced. The person at the top hires someone, uses them, and moves on — the system stays the same.
If you learn to spot the clearinghouse pattern — who sits in the middle, who sets the rules, what moral cause justifies the rules, and what conditions are attached to your money — you can recognise the system no matter who is running it next time.
Ten people who really understand the pattern and explain it on are worth more than a hundred thousand who are angry and do nothing. The system wants you angry, because then you don’t think rationally. The system wants you presented with scapegoats, because then you erroneously believe the issue is fixed when politicians and billionaires collapse in the media spotlight.
The only thing the system does not want from you is comprehension.
When the US Department of Justice released over six million pages of Epstein documents, it created a problem. You can’t suppress six million pages. Anyone can find the original documents online, read them, and make up their own mind.
The system’s solution is to get between you and the documents. The raw files go in, and a story comes out. Someone in the middle decides which documents you see, how they’re explained, and frequently — how you’re supposed to feel about them. Nothing needs to be faked, because the documents are real, the quotes are accurate, and the reference numbers check out. What’s controlled is the selection: which threads get pulled, which get ignored, and where the invisible line is drawn around ‘this is what the files show’.
The same happens in financial regulation. The committees that set banking rules don’t invent their standards from nothing. They use real data, real risk models, and real institutional inputs. Their power comes from choosing which data goes into the model, which gets left out, and what comes out the other end — which is then handed down to national regulators, who apply it as though it were the honest truth.
The data is real. The selection does the work.
The same applies to news coverage generally. An editor who decides which stories run, which get buried, and from which angle they’re told is performing the identical function — real events, real facts, and a selection that does the work.
The Selection
A six-million-page archive has more threads than any one writer can realistically follow. Every investigator has to choose which threads to pull — and that choice is where the clearing function does its work. This doesn’t necessarily mean this selection is evidence of wrongdoing by intent, but when the same pattern applies repeatedly it's a somewhat different matter.
Here’s what the Epstein documents show when you follow the threads all the way to the institutions they connect to.
In 2011, emails show Epstein helping JPMorgan design a charitable fund structure for Bill Gates. That fund connects directly to impact investing — a term coined at a Rockefeller Foundation meeting in 2008. By 2009, JPMorgan, the Gates Foundation, and the Rockefeller Foundation launched the framework together at the Clinton Global Initiative. In October 2011, Hillary Clinton’s State Department approved $285 million in taxpayer money for impact investing funds — the first major government commitment. The same month, JPMorgan brought Epstein onto a call with a Gates Foundation director about a ‘unique new impact investment product’, which Epstein had designed.
The Secretary of State who approved the taxpayer funding — Hillary Clinton — was the same person at whose foundation the framework had been publicly launched two years earlier. The taxpayer money and the private design were moving in parallel.
In March 2013, Epstein listed the components in an email: ‘DAF, estate, structured giving, partnered giving, social good bonds (new uk concept), govt approved special gates bonds’. He was tracking a system being built across the US and UK at the same time, in which money only flows if it meets conditions set by someone upstream.
The ‘impact investing’ fund has conditions on where the money goes.
The ‘social good’ bond has conditions on how it’s used.
A programmable digital currency would have conditions on every individual transaction.
That last part is the key. Once every movement of money — from government bonds down to what you buy at a shop — has to prove it meets criteria written by someone above you, then whoever writes those criteria runs the system.
The criteria don’t need to be controversial. They just need to be impossible to argue against: public health, sustainable development, clean energy, financial inclusion. A moral cause that no reasonable person can oppose is the most important part — because it makes the whole system politically untouchable.
Epstein put it plainly in an August 2011 email to JPMorgan’s most senior executives: ‘The tension is making money from a Charitable Org. Therefore the money making parts need to be arms length’. He’s describing a system where the charitable purpose isn’t decoration — it’s the mechanism. It’s the condition that has to be met before money is allowed to move.
A writer who reads that sentence and reports it as evidence of hypocrisy has done the clearing function’s job. The document has been shown, the quote is accurate, and the reference number checks out. But the structural meaning — that ‘social good’ is a compliance layer inside a system of financial control — has been swapped out for a moral judgement that ends with a call for someone to be held accountable. The audience gets a scandal, while the architecture carries on untouched.
This goes beyond which documents are selected. It extends to the conclusions drawn from them. Coverage that finds the Epstein-JPMorgan emails and concludes ‘billionaires are corrupt’ has reached a dead end. It might be true, but it ultimately leads nowhere. It doesn’t ask why these particular billionaires cooperate, what institutional framework connects them, or what their cooperation is actually building. It describes deals between wealthy people without ever asking what the deals assemble. And that’s useful, because that allows the activity itself to carry on, still framed around a ‘moral’ purpose, but now with different names behind it, and more care taken in operational security.
In the same way, a writer who documents his own censorship and presents that as the core problem — while every country in the Five Eyes alliance, the European Union, and most of the G20 runs the same censorship system — has mistaken one example for the whole machine. The body that sets the censorship standard sits behind it, and describing the symptom while leaving the standard-setter unnamed is, once again, the clearing function at work: real information, accurate documentation, and a conclusion that goes nowhere.
An audience that arrives at ‘billionaires are corrupt’ or ’the media censors dissidents’ has learned nothing it didn’t already believe — and has gained no tools that would help it spot the next version of the same system, run by different people, through different institutions, under a different moral banner.
What Gets Cleared
The clearing function is easiest to spot in what never gets mentioned. A financial clearinghouse doesn’t announce which transactions it blocked. It processes the ones it approves, and the rest simply disappear.
The Epstein archive contains extensive correspondence about the development of digital currencies. Between October 2011 and September 2012, the documents show Epstein systematically evaluating the World Economic Forum’s working group on alternative currencies, poaching its best people, and setting up a parallel project under his control — outside the WEF, under rules guaranteeing that no participant would be named. The paper that came out of it — referred to in the emails as the ‘Thoughts on Bitcoin’ document — laid out a blueprint for a government-backed digital currency: negative interest rates, full surveillance of every transaction, the removal of banks as middlemen, and the absorption of weaker countries’ currencies by stronger ones. Larry Summers wrote a formal version in 2016. By 2017, the finished product was being pitched to the ruler of Dubai, the newly elected president of Mongolia, and the Saudi government.
This thread connects the Epstein emails directly to the central bank digital currency programmes now being built or tested in over a hundred countries — and through the Bank for International Settlements, to the infrastructure that would make programmable conditions on your money operational at the level of every individual transaction.
The archive also contains thousands of documents on Ehud Barak — former Israeli Prime Minister and Defence Minister, the man who had direct authority over Mossad and Israeli military intelligence. The correspondence shows dedicated communication protocols, Epstein handling Barak personally rather than through staff, on-demand access, private flights, and — in one May 2012 staff email — a package addressed to the sitting Israeli Defence Minister relabelled under a fake name before being hand-delivered to a Manhattan address. A 2013 exchange shows Barak telling Epstein not to share information even within the inner network (’jeff pl don’t share the info with any of our friends’), followed immediately by Epstein advising Barak to seek private time with Vladimir Putin — a backchannel later confirmed by Drop Site News as part of a covert Israeli diplomatic operation during the Syrian civil war.
The Rothschild correspondence — around 5,500 documents relating to Ariane alone — documents a three-tier chain of command. Jacob Rothschild sat at the top, initiating through family governance letters and introductions. Ariane sat in the middle, executing instructions and forwarding every significant Jacob communication to Epstein’s inbox. Epstein sat below, managing operations downward to Barak, Summers, and the wider network. The $25 million consulting contract between Epstein’s company and the Edmond de Rothschild Group — payment explicitly tied to the resolution of the bank’s legal problems with the US Department of Justice — sits within this structure as one documented example of a relationship that, on the evidence of the correspondence, ran continuously for years.
This pattern — an agent with no official title, paid through access to deals rather than a salary, placed where the principal doesn’t want to be physically present, gathering political and economic intelligence, and passing it back so decisions can be made ahead of competitors and governments — is documented in detail in a 2016 academic study of nineteenth-century Rothschild business agents, drawing on the Rothschild Archive in London. The match between the historical model and the modern operation is close enough that either it’s a conscious continuation, or the same needs produce the same structure independently. Both answers lead to the same conclusion.
The compliance of the network’s participants after Epstein’s 2008 conviction is explained not by any single mechanism but by several operating simultaneously: continued access to deal flow, the routing function that no other node could replace, institutional careers embedded in network pathways, and — in specific cases — the leverage that proximity to the trafficking operation provided.
The trafficking operation explains why participants remained compliant. It does not explain what they were compliant with — and that distinction is where most analysis of the Epstein files stops.
These threads — digital currency architecture, intelligence operations, Rothschild command structure, and impact investing as a system of financial conditions — connect the Epstein correspondence to institutional infrastructure that is active right now: the BIS Innovation Hub, the climate scenarios that feed global banking rules, international anti-money-laundering enforcement, the UN Sustainable Development Goals compliance framework, and the digital currency pilots now under way across most of the world’s central banks.
A coverage operation that surfaces every other thread in the archive while consistently leaving these out — or misinterpreting specific emails within the sequences — likely hasn't failed to find them.
There is a technique subtler than omission: partial acknowledgment. A document is surfaced, accurately quoted, correctly referenced — and then interpreted at the lowest possible level of significance. A $25 million contract becomes evidence of corruption rather than one instance within a continuous chain of command. The thread has technically been covered. A reader who encounters it elsewhere feels they’ve already seen it, and moves on. Partial acknowledgment inoculates against the full analysis.
The Operational Signatures
In financial regulation, you can spot the clearing function by what’s always included and what’s always left out. Certain risks are always tested, others never are. The same consistency makes the information clearinghouse identifiable.
There are a number of signatures.
The first is blaming people instead of systems. Coverage that turns an institutional architecture into a story about the personal conduct of named individuals points the audience at targets whose removal changes nothing.
The second is refusing to follow key terms to where they lead. A phrase like ‘social good’ appears across many emails because it’s structurally important — it’s the mechanism that makes the whole system work. But each time it’s reported, it’s treated as decoration — hypocrisy, charitable window-dressing — and each time the investigation stops at exactly the point where it would become consequential.
The third is putting all the blame on people who can be replaced. A royal trade envoy, a former White House lawyer, a technology billionaire — all genuinely involved, all genuinely disposable. The command structure above them stays out of the picture.
The fourth is ignoring the intelligence dimension. The single most extensively documented intelligence relationship in the archive — dedicated security protocols, compartmentalised information, diplomatic backchannels — gets no serious analysis from anyone. Without it, the network looks like a financial scandal rather than what it is: a governance operation.
The fifth is the nature of the question being asked. ‘Who were the bad people and what did they do?’ ends in prosecution or resignation. ‘What structure made this possible?’ ends in the recognition that prosecution and resignation are not enough.
The sixth is the premature declaration of victory. When the named individuals fall — a resignation, a firing, a congressional hearing — and the coverage frames this as resolution rather than personnel turnover, the audience is given permission to stop looking. The system that produced those individuals continues, but the story has been closed.
The seventh is making the writer the story. When the narrative becomes about who was censored, how they suffered, and how they were eventually vindicated, the audience’s attention shifts from what the documents reveal to what happened to the person revealing them. The persecution becomes the story. The architecture disappears behind it.
The eighth is reducing a universal mechanism to a single emotional application. A system designed to condition all capital flows — energy, housing, agriculture, infrastructure, every transaction — gets reported as a vaccine profit scheme. The audience understands one use case, chosen because it activates existing anger, and believes it has understood the whole. The structural meaning of the mechanism — that it applies to every sustainable development goal — never arrives.
The ninth is geographic partitioning. The architecture documented in the correspondence spans American finance, British diplomacy, Israeli intelligence, Swiss banking, and Gulf sovereign wealth simultaneously — often within a single email chain. But coverage nationalises it — one writer takes the British angle, another the American, another the Israeli. Each national audience receives a version that feels complete. None encounters the full transnational architecture, because every frame stops at a national border.
The common factor is placing new fenceposts on what’s considered acceptable to discuss — extending the boundary of the Overton Window rather than shattering it. The reader is invited to accept the supplied interpretation, not ask questions about the system which yielded the outcomes.
The Ethic of Disclosure
Every financial clearinghouse needs a moral cause — a concern that makes the public demand its existence. War reparations, currency stability, financial integrity, climate resilience: each cause is real, and each creates the conditions under which the clearinghouse becomes politically necessary.
The information clearinghouse works the same way. Its moral cause is disclosure. The public demands to know what the Epstein files contain. The intermediary presents itself as meeting that demand. The documents are published, the names are revealed, the scandals are aired, and the audience feels the satisfaction of a curtain being pulled back. Disclosure is the moral shield — in exactly the same way that ‘sustainability’ shields the climate finance system, or ‘financial inclusion’ shields the digital currency programmes.
Behind that shield, the selection operates. The audience gets the names, the scandals, and the emotional satisfaction that comes with demanding accountability. The architecture those names were serving — the financial conditionality, the intelligence operations, the monetary infrastructure, the command hierarchy — stays hidden. Because revealing it would produce understanding rather than outrage.
Outrage is an emotion that burns out. It finds a target, demands a consequence, and exhausts itself in the demand. Once the target falls — a resignation, an arrest, a congressional hearing — the cycle completes and the audience moves on. The system that produced the target continues to operate, recruits a replacement, and waits for the next archive to be released.
The clearing function also controls timing. The scandal cycle runs on days to weeks: documents, names, outrage, resignation, resolution. The infrastructure cycle runs on years: working papers become prototypes become pilot programmes become permanent systems. The clearinghouse locks public attention onto the fast clock and disconnects it from the slow one. By the time the outrage burns out, the next phase of the infrastructure has already been completed. And within the scandal cycle itself, the most consequential documents can be released on days when bigger headlines dominate the news — such as the arrest of (former) Prince Andrew — ensuring they are technically public while functionally invisible.
Understanding doesn’t burn out.
A reader who grasps the clearinghouse mechanism can spot the next version regardless of who’s running it.
A reader who understands programmable conditionality can recognise the architecture whether it calls itself pandemic preparedness, climate finance, or digital inclusion.
A reader who understands the agent model can tell the agent from the principal no matter which names appear in the next set of leaked emails.
The information clearinghouse is built to produce the first reaction and prevent the second.
There is a second operation that works alongside it. Where the clearinghouse strips structural meaning from real documents and replaces it with scandal, books like The Committee of 300 strip the accurate details from real events and replace them with a single shadowy group to which everything is attributed. The events and organisations mentioned are often real, but every piece of context is wrong in the same direction: the BIS becomes a cartel front, the IMF absorbs the role of central banks, the Club of Rome orchestrates events that happened before it existed. Genuine confusion would get some details right, but when every detail is wrong in the same way, the distortion is almost certainly deliberate.
Getting the details right often matters more than knowing the events, because accurate details let you trace who influenced whom — and from that, work out why. Once those details are corrupted, the trail dissolves.
If every institution is flattened into the same shadowy committee, the reader can’t tell the BIS from the IMF, the rule-maker from the enforcer, or a consultation paper from a directive — and the paper trail that would allow anyone to verify anything for themselves disappears. It also poisons the well in advance: once a conspiracy book has claimed the BIS controls everything through a secret group, anyone who later documents what the BIS actually does — using its own published papers, named committees, and public processes — gets dismissed as a conspiracy theorist.
Between them, the two operations produce two dead ends. Scandal for the mainstream audience. Unfalsifiable conspiracy for the dissident audience. Both land nowhere near the documented, traceable architecture that sits between them.
The most effective clearing operation doesn’t suppress the audience most likely to care. It satisfies them. People who already distrust institutional power are given a version of the truth that confirms what they suspected — corruption, censorship, private greed — and resolves into a conclusion that feels like vindication. When the people blamed then fall from grace, it feels like resolution. That audience doesn't look for the structural analysis, because it believes the problem has already been solved.
What the Archive Actually Threatens
Set aside the names, the scandals, the culture-war arguments, and the demands for congressional hearings. Read the Epstein correspondence with fresh eyes, and ask one question: which threads, if the general public understood them, would pose an actual threat to the system the correspondence documents?
If the public understood that central bank digital currencies are not just a new form of money but a control system — programmable money that can have conditions attached to every transaction — the political support needed to roll them out would collapse overnight. The Epstein correspondence contains the design specification for exactly this system, drafted by a former US Treasury Secretary. No writer with a large enough platform to shift public awareness has covered it.
If the public understood that ‘social good’ is not just window dressing but the compliance mechanism that makes the whole system politically untouchable, the moral shield would become visible as a shield rather than a principle. The single sentence that explains the entire mechanism has been frequently quoted — and practically every time, it’s been interpreted as evidence of personal hypocrisy. Its structural meaning has never been discussed elsewhere but on this substack as far as I can tell.
If the public understood the intelligence dimension — dedicated security protocols, cover names, backchannel diplomacy, compartmentalised information — the story of Epstein as a well-connected socialite who happened to know powerful people would fall apart. The correspondence with Ehud Barak alone runs to thousands of documents. No major outlet that claims to be investigating the files has given it serious, dedicated analysis.
If the public understood that the Rothschild correspondence documents a chain of command rather than a business relationship, people would stop fixating on Epstein and start asking who sits above him. The $25 million DOJ settlement has been reported. The reporting hierarchy it sits within has not.
Four threads, exposed across thousands of documents with verifiable reference numbers, in a publicly searchable archive — and four silences from every writer whose platform reaches a large enough audience to matter.
There is one more sign. Social media platforms have shown, extensively and in some cases under oath, that they suppress content the establishment finds inconvenient. Writers who publish material that genuinely threatens the institutional architecture don’t find themselves trending on X. They find their reach throttled, their posts buried, and their accounts flagged by trust and safety teams working with the very agencies whose operations the posts describe.
The Standard-Setter
Every clearinghouse passes down rules written above it. The committee that sets global banking standards compiles the rules; national regulators pass them down. The network that produces climate scenarios compiles the models; the banking committee builds them into its rules. The unnamed bodies that design the scenario inputs sit above them all.
The same hierarchy applies to information. The writer who decides which threads to pull from a six-million-page archive is applying a standard — a set of unspoken criteria that determines what counts as a ’revelation’ and what doesn’t. Gates profiting from pandemic finance counts. The role of the Bank for International Settlements in building infrastructure for programmable money does not. A $25 million consulting fee counts. A three-tier command structure matching a two-century-old intelligence model does not. An Epstein connection to transgender surgery funding counts. A sovereign digital currency blueprint drafted by a former US Treasury Secretary does not.
The standard being applied is never stated, because stating it would make it visible — and the clearinghouse depends on looking like neutral, comprehensive disclosure. The writer doesn’t say ‘I am leaving out everything that connects Epstein to institutional infrastructure that is still operating right now’. He says ‘here is what the files show’, and the selection operates silently inside that claim.
This is the same structure that runs financial regulation, climate governance, and development lending. The clearinghouse sits in the middle, the standard-setter sits above, and the audience — whether it’s a national regulator applying banking rules or a reader consuming Epstein coverage — experiences the output as though it were the plain truth of the archive.
The distance between reading a document and understanding what it means is the distance the clearinghouse is designed to maintain.
The information clearinghouse has one vulnerability. Its authority depends on the audience believing the output is complete. A reader who understands the selection function develops a permanent scepticism toward the claim ‘this is what the files show’ — from any source — including this one.
The tools this essay provides — the clearinghouse mechanism, the agent model, the governing ethic, the conditionality framework — are not arguments to be believed. They are tools to be applied. And providing said tools is what this essay is ultimately about.
Now go apply them. Start with my four essays, for instance.
As usual a superb & differentiated job of examining this “scandalous series of communications, exposing financial corruption, sex trafficking, probably blackmail” and not “So this is how it is planned to control everything at the level of the individual, using a system in which the means of exchange is simultaneously the mechanism that forces compliance with rules against which there’s neither appeal nor recourse”.
The Epstein topic is a diversion, no matter what...