When I arrived, someone was going through the front gate into the courtyard, so I just followed him in. I now realize that I would have needed to have an electronic key or to be buzzed in to open the gate, but that didn’t register at the time.
When I arrived, someone was going through the front gate into the courtyard, so I just followed him in. I now realize that I would have needed to have an electronic key or to be buzzed in to open the gate, but that didn’t register at the time.
Once inside, I walked up to OpenAI’s glass front door. This time it was clear I needed a keycard to get in. But then an employee walked up and buzzed me in, no questions asked—thanks!
Now I was in the lobby of the most famous AI office on Earth. And it looked much like you would expect: a front desk with a security guard and a couple of guys in hoodies and sneakers, sitting in the waiting area with laptops—I guessed they were waiting for job interviews.
I went up to the front desk, and the security guard asked whether I had an appointment.
“No, I’m a journalist with The Standard. I dropped by to ask for an interview,” I said, extending my business card.
“Oh, there’s no one here who can help you with that,” she said with a slightly alarmed tone, as she started to dial a number on the phone. “I’m going to have to ask you to wait outside.”
No problem. I stepped into the courtyard.
No more than 30 seconds later, the security guard came out, on the phone, frantically telling someone—presumably her boss—that she had no idea where I came from.
“I’m having to lead him out right now!” she said. Bear in mind that she had never even asked me to leave the premises.
I wasn’t going to stage a sit-in. I followed her out, and she shut the gate behind me. “Can I give you my card?” I asked, extending my business card through the bars.
“Sorry,” she said and dashed away. Less than two minutes after entering, I was out.
“What the f— just happened?” I thought to myself. I looked down at my business card. It still said “Matthew Kupfer” and listed me as a reporter for The Standard, not a KGB agent or a member of a terrorist organization.
In retrospect, I feel bad for the security guard, who seemed genuinely afraid she would get in trouble because I got into the building. But my main emotion at that moment was surprise.
I’ve been denied a lot of interviews in my time. But I’ve never seen an organization so unprepared for the possibility that a journalist might show up—especially one making countless daily headlines across the globe.
While I understand that tech companies have serious and legitimate concerns about corporate espionage, it appeared that OpenAI—probably the buzziest tech firm at the moment—believed that an unpublicized address and a buzzer had effectively rendered its headquarters an impenetrable fortress.
I also couldn’t help feeling the company didn’t understand how journalism works. Journalists regularly approach people and organizations for comment unannounced. And instead of having a flip-out, the security guard could have just taken my card, promised to pass it up the chain of command, sent me on my way and promptly thrown it in the trash. Problem solved. Has no one at this company ever ghosted someone on Tinder?
In any case, if you’re out there, OpenAI, The Standard still wants to interview you. In the meantime, I asked ChatGPT to tell the story of my visit to your office in verse, and the results are pretty good!
In fairest San Francisco, by the bay,
There stands a building, grand and tall,
Where inside lies a company so great,
Whose works have changed the world, for all.
One day, a journalist did come to see,
This place of magic, mystery, and might,
He entered with a purpose, full of glee,
But was met with a shocking sight.
For he had walked right in, unguarded and free,
Into a place that few are allowed,
But quickly he was met with a decree,
That sent him on his way, feeling cowed.
So Matthew Kupfer, journalist brave,
Was turned away, by security’s wave,
But still we wonder, how did he get in?
Did he slip past all, with a mischievous grin?