You would think national security communications among the highest-level administration officials would be immune to embarrassing mishaps. Think again. A bizarre and troubling White House blunder has thrust The Atlantic’s vocal critic of the Trump administration, Jeffrey Goldberg, directly into the inner workings of Trump’s military strategy chats on Signal, shedding light on alarming security lapses and the sheer comic ineptitude of digital age statecraft. But how exactly did Goldberg end up privy to sensitive discussions about U.S. military operations in Yemen?
The Origins of the Goldberg Mishap
According to White House insiders and an extensive internal investigation, this whole debacle traces back to the mundane act of saving contacts on a smartphone. It began with an email Goldberg sent to Trump’s campaign, criticizing the president sharply over comments Trump made regarding wounded military veterans—remarks that had roused the public’s anger during his 2024 reelection push. To address Goldberg’s criticism, the campaign reached out to Mike Waltz, then serving as Trump’s national security advisor.
Here’s where things unraveled spectacularly. Due to a contact suggestion feature on Waltz’s personal iPhone, the device suggested adding a new, incoming number under the name of Brian Hughes. Hughes, now the National Security Council spokesperson and a frequent presence around Waltz, certainly belonged in Waltz’s contacts. Goldberg, however, did not. Yet, his number mistakenly replaced Hughes’, paving the way to Goldberg’s accidental inclusion into a highly sensitive group chat.
Classifying the Severity of the Slip-up
This unintentional access to a private Signal group discussing prospective military strikes against the Houthis in Yemen was no trivial security misstep. At the very least, it reveals deeply troubling gaps in governmental security protocols. And more so considering that operational messages had already circulated among Vice President JD Vance, Defense Secretary Pete Hegseth, and Waltz himself when Goldberg’s inappropriate inclusion was eventually noticed.
“It’s frankly astonishing,” said a former Pentagon cybersecurity official, speaking on condition of anonymity. “We’re talking about the highest levels of national security here, reduced to a tech-flub. It suggests a cavalier approach to data protection that should alarm anyone paying attention.”
Despite this alarming breach of procedure, however, it’s important to understand the actual damage that did (or did not) occur. The White House, anxious to contain the PR nightmare, launched a swift and thorough forensic investigation. Their findings, perhaps surprisingly, offer a small degree of relief: no classified information had been exchanged on the chat at the time Goldberg saw it. Yet, the broader question remains unanswered: how could something like this happen in the first place? And does it reflect broader neglect within Trump’s intelligence and operational ranks?
Political Damage and Trump’s Calculated Response
As you might expect in our polarized political era, this error instantly became fodder for political controversy and media spectacle, leading Trump’s fiercest critics and most loyal defenders to promptly draw battle lines. Opponents of the Trump administration quickly seized upon the incident, highlighting it as symbolic of broader incompetence, raising public demands for accountability and resignations. Pro-Trump voices, meanwhile, deflected blame furiously. Fox News’ Jesse Watters dubiously claimed it was Goldberg himself orchestrating a trick—offering a fake name along with his real number—to infiltrate the chat. Goldberg swiftly dismissed that notion and publicly stated he believed Waltz was fully aware of his identity at the time he was mistakenly added.
Through the chaos, a nuanced stance from the administration emerged. In an unexpected twist, Trump himself decided pointedly not to dismiss Waltz from his post, his irritation seemingly less about the security breach and more about being inconvenienced by Goldberg. Many observers have speculated Trump’s decision was rooted in the intensity of the media spotlight—a firing would have lent credence to claims of administration incompetence, while maintaining Waltz retained a sense of Trumpian defiance.
What Goldberg’s presence in such a sensitive White House stream of information truly underscores, however, is twofold. First, it highlights the fragility of digital security practices, even among those tasked with the gravest national security duties. Second, it raises the question of complacency among officials who partake casually in ad hoc digital conversations about war and peace.
Yes, Goldberg himself downplayed the severity afterward, openly accusing media colleagues of exaggerating the incident for sensationalism. He remains dismissive of Waltz’s account while remaining tight-lipped about their relationship. But even so, the debacle shines a bright, uncomfortable light upon the intersection of convenience, technology, and the colossal stakes attached to national security.
In our hyper-connected digital age, one thing appears certain: statecraft demands rigorous, disciplined communication systems. Without them, even an innocent auto-suggested contact card can inadvertently pull the curtain back on strategic dialogues, exposing officials—and their plans—to unintended audiences. And as Goldberg has vividly demonstrated, when this happens, the fallout can be spectacularly messy indeed.
