judges would need to explain why they were departing from an AI recommendation
Em maio de 2026, a convergência entre capital estrangeiro, tecnologia jurídica e autoridade institucional ganhou contornos concretos no Brasil: uma startup de inteligência artificial avaliada em 1,2 bilhão de dólares, financiada pelo Founders Fund de Peter Thiel, revelou ter em seu conselho institucional o ex-ministro do Supremo Tribunal Federal Luís Roberto Barroso e o apresentador Luciano Huck. O episódio não é uma história de corrupção declarada, mas de alinhamento — de interesses, incentivos e posicionamentos que moldarão como a IA atravessará o sistema judiciário brasileiro e quem lucrará com essa travessia.
- Uma startup jurídica brasileira se tornou unicórnio com aporte de 100 milhões de dólares de um fundo ligado a Peter Thiel, aliado de Trump e financiador de movimentos de extrema-direita.
- O ex-ministro Barroso discursou publicamente sobre os benefícios da IA na Justiça sem revelar, no mesmo evento, que integrava o conselho institucional da empresa que vende exatamente esse tipo de solução.
- A Enter triplicou sua base de clientes — de 15 para 45 grandes empresas, incluindo Nubank, Bradesco e Mercado Livre — e multiplicou sua receita por treze, com 30% dos ganhos atrelados ao sucesso em mais de 300 mil ações judiciais por ano.
- A startup obteve acesso a uma API de dados judiciais públicos validada pelo Conselho Nacional de Justiça, aproximando ainda mais tecnologia privada e infraestrutura do Estado.
- A sobreposição de um ex-magistrado, um rosto midiático e um financista de direita radical em torno de uma empresa com acesso ao sistema judicial levanta perguntas sobre governança que o país ainda não formulou com clareza.
No fim de maio, dois nomes conhecidos do público brasileiro dividiram o palco no Fórum Esfera, em Guarujá. Luís Roberto Barroso, recém-aposentado do Supremo Tribunal Federal, defendeu o uso da inteligência artificial no Judiciário com otimismo cauteloso: a IA, argumentou, poderia produzir decisões mais objetivas que juízes humanos, desde que supervisionada por eles. Citou resultados concretos — o acervo do STF havia caído de 150 mil para 20 mil processos com o auxílio de ferramentas automatizadas. Luciano Huck também estava presente, embora o motivo de sua presença só ficasse claro depois.
O que nenhum dos dois mencionou abertamente no evento foi que ambos integravam o conselho institucional da Enter, startup brasileira de IA jurídica que acabara de receber 100 milhões de dólares em investimento estrangeiro — parte deles do Founders Fund, de Peter Thiel. Thiel é cofundador da Palantir, financiador de causas de extrema-direita e um dos apoiadores mais próximos de Donald Trump. Com esse aporte, a Enter atingiu avaliação de 1,2 bilhão de dólares, tornando-se o primeiro unicórnio brasileiro desde abril de 2024.
A empresa automatiza a produção de documentos jurídicos, análise de provas e preparação de peças para audiências, sugerindo materiais a advogados que mantêm a responsabilidade final pelos arquivamentos. Seus clientes incluem Airbnb, Bradesco, Nubank e Mercado Livre. A receita cresceu treze vezes desde a primeira rodada de captação, com cerca de 30% dos ganhos vinculados ao êxito em mais de 300 mil ações por ano. A Enter também firmou parcerias com seccionais da OAB e obteve acesso a uma API de dados judiciais públicos, validada pelo CNJ.
A composição do conselho, segundo um dos fundadores, era deliberada: Barroso representava o Judiciário, outro membro representava os escritórios de advocacia, e Huck, a sociedade civil. Nenhum detém participação acionária. Mas a lógica do arranjo não dissolve o desconforto: um ex-ministro que acabou de deixar o tribunal onde a IA já opera agora empresta seu nome e prestígio a uma empresa que vende ferramentas para interagir com esse mesmo sistema — financiada por um dos mais influentes operadores políticos da direita global. A história não é de conluio evidente. É de alinhamento — e de quem está posicionado para definir os termos desse futuro.
On a Saturday in May, two prominent Brazilians took the stage at the Esfera Forum in Guarujá, a coastal city in São Paulo state. Luis Roberto Barroso, the recently retired justice from Brazil's Supreme Court, spoke about artificial intelligence in the judiciary. Luciano Huck, the television host and public personality, also appeared—though for reasons that would soon become complicated.
Barroso's message was measured and optimistic. He argued that AI could produce judicial decisions with greater objectivity than human judges, provided the technology operated under human supervision. He acknowledged the concern about algorithmic bias, but countered that flesh-and-blood judges carry their own prejudices and commit their own discriminations. The real innovation, he suggested, would be a shift in burden: judges would need to explain why they were departing from an AI recommendation, rather than simply issuing decisions without such justification. He pointed to concrete results already achieved in Brazil's highest court, where AI had helped compress the backlog of pending cases from 150,000 to 20,000 by automating the identification of cases with established precedent and filtering out repetitive appeals.
What neither man disclosed clearly at the forum—though it emerged in reporting afterward—was that both sat on the institutional council of Enter, a Brazilian artificial intelligence startup focused on legal work. Enter had just received a $100 million investment from foreign funds, including the Founders Fund, led by Peter Thiel. Thiel is a German-American entrepreneur, venture capitalist, and political activist with close ties to Donald Trump. He co-founded PayPal and Palantir Technologies, a data analytics and AI software company serving defense, intelligence, and security agencies. He is also known as one of the planet's most influential financiers of far-right political movements.
Enter itself had grown rapidly. The company, valued at $1.2 billion, had become Brazil's first unicorn—a privately held startup worth over a billion dollars—since April 2024. It develops AI solutions for the legal departments of large corporations, automating the drafting of legal documents, the composition of responses to lawsuits, the analysis of evidence, and the preparation of briefings for court hearings. The technology suggests these materials to lawyers, but the final decision and the responsibility for filing documents in court remain with the licensed attorney. Enter's client base had tripled since its first funding round in 2025, growing from 15 to 45 companies, including Airbnb, Bradesco, Latam, Nubank, and Mercado Livre. The company's revenue had increased thirteenfold, with clients paying for platform use and roughly 30 percent of the company's income tied to successful outcomes in over 300,000 legal actions annually.
Mateus Costa-Ribeiro, a co-founder of Enter, explained the logic of the board composition. Barroso represented the judiciary; Roberto Quiroga, another board member, represented law firms; and Huck represented civil society. The council members held no equity stake and attended quarterly meetings. The company had also signed partnerships with bar association chapters in Paraná, the Federal District, and Piauí to share training materials on AI for lawyers, with plans to expand to other states. Enter had also gained access to an API for querying public judicial data, validated by Brazil's National Council of Justice for information security, data protection, and privacy compliance.
The convergence raised questions that extended beyond the boardroom. A retired justice publicly championing AI in courts now sat on the council of a company selling AI tools to law firms and corporations—tools that would interact with the same judicial system he had recently left. The company's primary financial backer was a Trump ally known for funding far-right causes. The startup had access to sensitive judicial data. And one of Brazil's most visible media personalities was lending his name and credibility to the venture, even as he made public statements about social policy that drew sharp criticism.
These details mattered because they illustrated how capital, technology, and institutional authority were converging in Brazil around artificial intelligence—and who was positioned to benefit from that convergence. The story was not one of simple corruption or hidden dealings. It was one of alignment: of interests, of incentives, of the people who would shape how AI moved through Brazil's legal system and who would profit from that movement.
Citações Notáveis
The judge will bear the argumentative burden of demonstrating why he is not following the artificial intelligence. People worry about algorithmic bias, and it is a relevant concern. But judges of flesh and blood also have prejudices and commit discriminations.— Luis Roberto Barroso
The objective is to guarantee that the company has the most positive impact possible with three groups of stakeholders: the judiciary, represented by the retired minister Barroso; law firms, represented by attorney Quiroga; and civil society, with Huck.— Mateus Costa-Ribeiro, Enter co-founder
A Conversa do Hearth Outra perspectiva sobre a história
Why does it matter that Barroso sits on this board while also being a public advocate for AI in courts?
Because he's not just an opinion-maker anymore—he's a financial stakeholder in a company that will directly benefit from the adoption of AI in the judicial system he just left. His credibility as a retired justice lends legitimacy to Enter's technology. That's valuable.
But the article says board members don't hold equity. So where's the financial stake?
Equity isn't the only stake. His reputation is. If Enter succeeds, Barroso's public endorsement of judicial AI looks prescient. If it fails or causes problems, his credibility takes a hit. That's a real incentive, even without shares.
What about Peter Thiel? Why is his involvement significant beyond just being a Trump supporter?
Thiel has a track record of funding technology companies that concentrate power—Palantir works with intelligence and defense agencies. He's also invested heavily in far-right political movements globally. When someone like that puts $100 million into a company accessing Brazil's judicial data, it's worth asking what he expects to gain from influence over Brazil's legal infrastructure.
Does the article suggest Thiel has direct control over Enter's decisions?
No. But control isn't always direct. It's about alignment of interests. Thiel funds the company. The company grows. The people on the board—including a retired justice—benefit from that growth. The incentives all point in the same direction.
What's the actual risk here? Is it that AI in courts is bad, or that these particular people are involved?
It's the second one. AI in courts might be fine. But when the people shaping how that technology gets deployed are also financially or reputationally invested in its success, and when one of the primary funders is known for seeking political influence, the question becomes: who decided this was the right way to do it? And who benefits?
Huck's involvement seems almost random compared to Barroso's. Why is he there?
He represents civil society, according to the company. But Huck is also a media figure with enormous reach. His presence on the board—his endorsement, implicit or explicit—helps normalize the company to the Brazilian public. That's a different kind of value than what Barroso brings, but it's just as real.