By Simon Shuster, Time; Translated by Deng Tong, Golden Finance
Who did we just elect? There were two names at the top of the Republican ticket: Donald Trump and J.D. Vance. But part of this frantic November left the impression that someone else had our collective destiny in hand.
We've come to know him in various roles—the man who bought Twitter and fired more than half its employees, the inventor who revived the space program, the carmaker whose new truck had kids stopping on the sidewalk to stare. Suddenly, Elon Musk has entered the political arena, hosting rallies, directing government appointments, and setting the agenda for the next U.S. president.
For more than three years, he has been one of the richest and most powerful men in the world. Markets have soared and fallen on his tweets. Astronauts have flown in his spacecraft. The military has advanced using signals from his satellites. Conspiracy theories have gone mainstream through his embrace. But it was only in the spotlight of these elections that his influence became fully apparent.
Not since the days of William Randolph Hearst, the newspaper magnate who powered Roosevelt’s rise nearly a century ago, has a private citizen been so prominent in so many aspects of American life, now incorporating its politics into the force field of his will. Standing next to him, even Trump seemed almost in awe, more a companion than a boss, for the planet and its challenges were not big enough for him.
Photo illustration courtesy of Time Magazine (Source Image: NurPhoto/Getty Images)
For now, they act like partners, bound together by the favors they trade and their shared desire to undermine government institutions. They may command with one voice for now. But their agendas don’t align on everything. Both are willful, impulsive, and used to being in control. What happens if they start to clash?
In such a battle, Musk probably won’t have the upper hand. History is littered with the wreckage of kingmakers who went to war with the leaders they appointed. No matter how much wealth or influence Musk amasses, the tools of state power will remain in the president’s hands, and things could get messy if he decides to use them against the billionaire who helped return him to the White House.
Ultimately, the durability of their partnership may depend on Musk’s motivations: What drove him to become a MAGA prophet? If it’s the money he wants, mission accomplished.
His wealth soared by more than $50 billion in the week after the election, peaking at more than $320 billion, as investors flocked to Tesla’s stock. But wealth has never been Musk’s obsession. That he’s betting his fortune on lunar passion projects, like building greenhouses on Mars, is proof that his dreams are different from those of your average Klingon on Trump’s Starship. People close to Musk say his ultimate goal hasn’t changed since he founded SpaceX, his rocket company, in 2002. (The company’s investors include Marc and Lynne Benioff, the owners of Time magazine.) His favorite T-shirt reads: Occupy Mars. “It’s all about this mission,” a member of Musk’s social circle recently told him about his plans. “He just realizes that controlling the U.S. government budget, directly or indirectly, will get us to Mars in his lifetime. Doing it privately will be slower.”
That doesn’t mean American taxpayers will foot the bill for Musk’s dreams of interstellar travel. But the public does tend to pay when eccentric dreamers run the government. Millions of Americans, from retired factory workers to debt-ridden graduates and newborns, benefit from the social programs that Musk has pledged to cut. Despite posting multiple tweets a day to his 205 million followers, Musk has declined to answer questions from reporters, including this one, since he became an adviser to the president-elect. He hasn’t explained his contacts with U.S. adversaries, from China to Russia to Iran. Nor has he addressed the conflicts of interest that arise from playing a key role in a government where businesses are under investigation by regulators.
So far, Trump seems happy to play along. In his victory speech on Nov. 6, he spent four minutes praising Musk, the “super genius” who helped him run his ground campaign in Pennsylvania, reportedly paying canvassers to knock on 11 million doors and hiring vans to take the Amish to the polls. “We have a new star,” Trump cheered from the Florida stage. “A star is born — Elon Musk!” It wasn’t until about 19 minutes into the speech that the president-elect returned to the teleprompter and remembered to thank his voters.
Musk’s meaning to the Trump campaign goes far beyond the $120 million he’s invested, the on-the-ground programs he’s built or the social media boost he’s provided. For many of the young people who flocked to Trump, Musk personified an ideal. He infused familiar, nostalgic acts with ingenuity and possibility. If Trump’s promise to destroy corrupt institutions electrified supporters, Musk represented the promise to create something new and solve difficult problems. Trump doesn’t look that old at the rally, with the Diablo-playing edgelord bouncing around him. As Trump’s opponents paint his team as a bunch of fools, the greatest innovator of our time, with a record of pulling off wacky schemes, is promising $2 trillion in spending cuts, which makes things much harder for his opponents.
No matter how often Democrats remind us that Trump’s fortune comes from inherited wealth, multiple bankruptcies and decades of corporate shenanigans, they can’t deny Musk’s achievements as a businessman. Even Senator Bernie Sanders, the scourge of the billionaire class, parried his criticism in a recent podcast: “Elon Musk is a very, very aggressive, capable businessman, and what he’s accomplished is impressive. He says, I can do more in a week than the government does in five years, and in some ways he’s right.”
At a time when confidence in government is at a low ebb, many voters want to see a capable outsider, ruthless and independent, who knows how to use a massive machine to make it leaner, faster and more efficient. Musk’s commitment to the American bureaucracy has created the impetus and cover for cost-cutting on a scale not seen in Washington in years.That agenda didn’t make much headway during Trump’s first presidency. Millions of people rely on government for jobs, and on the protections regulators provide against predatory businesses, like the ones that have us abusing opioids and cigarettes to treat asthma. But small-government Republicans will be eager to follow Musk’s lead and engage in ugly budget battles over federal waste and bloated entitlements. Many Americans will support them.
On the campaign trail, the most persuasive argument Musk has made wasn’t on Joe Rogan’s show or on stage at a Trump rally. It was on a launch pad in Boca Chica, Texas, where Musk’s aerospace company wowed the world by capturing a returning rocket with a pair of robotic arms. If the man who did that supports Trump so passionately, couldn’t Trump have done some of the things he’s promised?
A lot of voters seem to think so, especially the young men Musk is targeting with his bravado. “The most important factor here is that men need to vote,” Musk told Rogan on election eve. The next day, when 60 percent of white men voted for Trump, Musk tweeted, “The cavalry has arrived.” But his appeal extends far beyond the manosphere. It also touched the masses of voters who were fed up with Trump’s character but excited about his policies. These people, TV pundits said, needed a “permission structure”; Musk provided that to suburban women like Betsy Stecz, who said as she lined up for his October rally in Lancaster, Pennsylvania: “Well, I can hold my head up and say: I am not ashamed to vote for Donald Trump.” In her view, the reason was Musk.
Given his role in the win, Musk might have expected something in return. But his position in Trump’s transition has reportedly unsettled some acolytes. Musk spent much of November camped out at Mar-a-Lago, weighing in on Cabinet picks and advising Trump on policy priorities.He played golf with the president-elect, sat courtside with him at an Ultimate Fighting Championship match and posed for photos with the Trump family; one grandson raved on social media that Musk had achieved “uncle status.” Musk coined a different term for his position: “first partner.”
U.S. President-elect Donald Trump, Tesla and SpaceX CEO Elon Musk and Donald Trump Jr. (right) watch UFC 309 at Madison Square Garden in New York City on November 16, 2024. Kena Betancur—AFP/Getty Images
Even that would be an understatement. The leaders of Turkey and Ukraine let Musk listen in on their calls with Trump. An Iranian envoy accused of trying to assassinate Trump reportedly met with Musk to discuss de-escalating tensions. (Iran’s Foreign Ministry has denied the meeting.) When House Republicans invited Trump to a closed-door meeting on Capitol Hill, Musk followed behind, with a “GUEST” sticker on the window of his car in Trump’s motorcade. 1” label.
That’s when Trump tapped him to lead a new entity called the Department of Government Efficiency. Its acronym, DOGE, is a nod to a dog-themed cryptocurrency that Musk has promoted as a joke. But its mission is serious. Trump claims to be “dismantling” the federal bureaucracy and “restructuring” its agencies. “This is going to send shockwaves through the system,” Musk said.
It could also give Musk influence over the many agencies that oversee his work. Weeks before Election Day, the National Highway Traffic Safety Administration announced it was investigating Tesla’s self-driving cars after a crash. In June, California regulators ordered Tesla to “correct ongoing air quality violations” at its Fremont factory. Tesla has said its cars are safe and its facilities meet environmental standards. SpaceX has also clashed with the Federal Aviation Administration, which Musk threatened to sue in September. A New York Times review found that his company faces at least 20 regulatory battles and investigations from “every corner of the government.” Musk and multiple representatives declined to comment or respond to TIME’s questions for this article, including about potential conflicts of interest. He has yet to explain what principles will guide his purge of the bureaucracy. DOGE co-director Vivek Ramaswamy ran on a pro-business, libertarian ticket in the last Republican primary. Musk’s political leanings, by contrast, are harder to pin down. This summer, he called himself a “historically moderate Democrat.” He has called climate change the defining challenge of our time. When Barack Obama was running for president in 2008, Musk waited in line for six hours to shake his hand.
His relationship with Trump was often rocky. They had very different views on tariffs, and Musk resigned from his post as White House adviser in 2017 after less than six months in protest of Trump’s climate policies. Five years later, Musk said it was time for Trump to “drive off into the sunset,” prompting a strong response. “Musk should focus on getting himself out of this Twitter mess where he’s owed $44 billion for something that’s probably worthless,” Trump said.
Trump has a point. Musk’s acquisition of Twitter made no obvious business sense. He paid at least twice as much as the company was worth through 2022, then spent weeks destroying its revenue streams and cashing out on its talent. He said the company’s headcount has shrunk from 8,000 to about 1,500 under his leadership. Some of his posts on the platform, which he renamed “X,” have come across as punctuated by corporate self-inflicted wounds. One referred to anti-Semitic theories as “the real truth.” (He later apologized.) Another shared a conspiracy theory about the hammer attack that left the husband of House Speaker Nancy Pelosi hospitalized with a fractured skull. In response, dozens of companies, including Microsoft and Coca-Cola, have pulled advertising from the platform. “Don’t advertise,” he told them on stage at a conference last fall. "If someone wants to blackmail me with advertising, blackmail me with money, then get lost." Investment firm Fidelity estimated in October that X had lost nearly 80% of its value in the past two years.
Clockwise from top left: Mark Seliger for Time, Mark Mahaney for Time, Nigel Buchanan for Time, Tim O'Brien for Time
Musk doesn't seem to care. Even without most of its employees, the platform continues to operate, frequently topping the list of the most downloaded news apps in Apple's App Store. Major advertisers have returned. To some observers, all of this is enough to cheer Musk’s acquisition as a masterstroke of corporate efficiency. “What Elon did with Twitter is he went in, cleaned house, and now it’s running better than before,” said one member of Musk’s social circle. “So the mood is that hopefully Elon will do the same thing with the U.S. government.” It’s a tall order. Even fiscal hawks balked at Musk’s promise to eliminate $2 trillion in federal spending. That would require cuts to Medicare, Social Security and other parts of the social safety net. Musk warned the nation to brace for a period of “temporary hardship” as those cuts take effect. But it’s unclear whether he’ll be able to make them. DOGE will remain outside the government, without the power to fire federal employees. Many budget experts expect it to do the same as countless blue-ribbon panels that have tried and failed to pressure politicians to slash programs favored by voters. When it comes to identifying waste, fraud and abuse, Congress doesn’t need help: It already has a watchdog arm called the Government Accountability Office that’s doing the job.
Many of DOGE’s early fans say they recognize the limits of its potential but celebrate it nonetheless. “Yes, a government efficiency department may be a pipe dream that could end up being as essential as Monty Python’s Department of Silly Things,” Wall Street Journal columnist Andy Kessler wrote on Nov. 17. “But even if Musk’s DOGE just cuts some of the bloat and saves a few hundred billion dollars, it’ll be worth it.”
On the campaign trail, Musk spoke repeatedly about the need for the U.S. to live “honestly” and “within our means.” But if his social media platforms are any guide, his goals may have less to do with efficiency and more to do with ideology. His stated goal of buying Twitter fits in with one of his favorite reasons for supporting Trump: He says he wants to save free speech in America. “Free speech is the bedrock of democracy,” he told Joe Rogan on the eve of the election. “Once you lose free speech, you lose democracy. Game over. That’s why I bought Twitter.” Multiple reports and studies have concluded that under his stewardship, the platform has become a haven for hateful and harmful content, in part because he fired its content moderation team. When asked to explain his rightward shift, Musk often refers to the “job mind virus,” his term for the leftward shift in American society that, in his view, has given rise to identity politics, cancel culture and allegedly rampant online censorship. His resentment of these forces is more than political. During the pandemic, one of his children sought gender-affirming medical care, which Musk said he was tricked into approving. His transgender daughter, now 20 and estranged from her father, legally changed her name to Vivian Jenna Wilson in 2022. In a July podcast, Musk said his child "is dead, killed by the awakening virus. I vow to kill the work mind virus henceforth."
Wilson posted her response the next day: "For a dead bitch, I look pretty good." On November 5, as the election results became clear, Wilson posted another message: "Blame the damn politicians and oligarchs who made this happen," she wrote. "Take out your anger on them."
In ancient Greek, the word oligarchy means "rule by the few." Its earliest critic was Aristotle. In the fourth century B.C., the philosopher described it as a situation in which "the propertied class take over the government." In medieval Venice, the head of an oligarchy ruled for life, with the same title that Musk gave to his new department: Doge. Elon Musk speaks at a rally for former U.S. President and presidential candidate Donald Trump. Sasha Leka – Rolling Stone/Getty Images The purest modern manifestation of this system was in Russia in the 1990s, when a handful of businessmen acquired control of the national economy during the chaotic transition to capitalism. The Russian name for oligarchy is semibankirshchina – the rule of the seven bankers.
The most powerful of these was Boris Berezovsky, who used his media properties to help Putin win his first election in 2000 and who hoped the new president would share the spoils of power. Instead, the two began to quarrel. The Russian government soon forced Berezovsky into exile and seized his television network. Bankrupt and lonely, the oligarch died in 2013 at his mansion in the English countryside. Authorities ruled it a suicide. To this day, his former media channels still carry the Kremlin's message.
Alex Goldfarb, one of Berezovsky's closest associates, now lives in New Jersey and follows Musk and Trump's footsteps with a mixture of familiarity and trepidation. "An oligarchy seems to be forming here, too," he said. "In the early years under Putin, the oligarchs did everything they could to fight the state," Goldfarb said. “Here we seem to have two oligarchs, Musk and Trump, working together to take over the country.”
The outcome may depend on how this new duopoly treats the institutions they will soon control. If the goal is to hone them into leaner, more effective tools of governance, the public could benefit from reshaping a system long hobbled by bureaucratic weakness. But Trump has also used these tools much as Putin has in Russia — to benefit his friends and sideline his enemies.
Musk has much to gain from this arrangement. As long as he sticks to the role of “first partner,” he can probably expect to easily shrug off the influence of the regulators Trump has appointed throughout the administration. His clearest path to Mars could therefore run straight through the Oval Office. But what benefits will ordinary Americans get, other than watching the spectacle of his success?
The institutions that provide us with health care, keep our water clean, and educate our children are not meant to be run like businesses. They are not built to turn a profit, but that doesn’t make them any less valuable, especially to the citizens least able to pay. If these institutions are eliminated in Musk’s drive for efficiency, the hardship won’t be temporary for those who rely on government support. For them, the pain could be devastating, and none of Musk’s promises of an interstellar future will help them solve today’s problems.