Elon Musk, whose empire of companies already holds billions of dollars in government contracts, donated his money, time, reputation, and social-media network to support Donald Trump’s election. In return, Musk has been promised oversight of a “government efficiency commission” with broad power to make “wide-ranging cuts at federal agencies and changes to federal rules,” including, potentially, those that govern his own companies. Musk made a big bet on Trump’s victory specifically, but also on a reasonable general theory of how things will work for the tech industry should that victory come to pass: Loyalty will be rewarded, and disloyalty will be punished.
This bet on loyalty is related to but distinct from the widely internalized expectation that firms with business in front of the government will donate to and spend money lobbying politicians in hopes of getting what they want — a sort of legitimized, in-the-open form of corruption that treats giving to one or both major political parties as a standard cost of doing business. It’s a recognition that an empowered, consolidated Trump administration will place value not just on material support but on public expressions of support. It’s a bet that the personalized and loyalty-centric character of the past Trump administration — recall the countless leaks about who was in or out of the president’s favor, the endless resignations, and the subsequent appointments of outspoken loyalists — will extend further outward into the government, in particular into the realm of tech regulation and contracting.
Starting around the attempt on Trump’s life in July, other major tech leaders appeared to start taking this theory more seriously. Mark Zuckerberg called Trump a “badass,” while Jeff Bezos praised his “grace under literal fire.” Other leaders — including Google’s Sundar Pichai and Apple’s Tim Cook — called the former and possibly future president, knowing he would later characterize the calls as he pleased. (Trump, who had previously threatened to criminally prosecute Google for “only revealing and displaying bad stories about Donald J. Trump,” called Pichai “a great guy, very smart” after a call in which the men reportedly talked about Trump’s appearance at a McDonald’s.) When, in July, Trump’s chances against then-nominee Joe Biden seemed all but certain, a parade of Silicon Valley elites started voicing their support for the former president.
After Trump’s victory, tech leaders made sure their acknowledgments had a personal touch. Bezos, who hadn’t posted on X since his last message about Trump but whose newspaper had, in the meantime, declined to endorse a presidential candidate, reached out again:
On Threads, Zuckerberg, whom Trump has also repeatedly threatened with criminal prosecution, wrote, “Congratulations to President Trump on a decisive victory. We have great opportunities ahead of us as a country. Looking forward to working with you and your administration.” He had company:
Letting the incoming administration know that you’re looking forward to working with it is pragmatic and standard behavior for a major tech executive. However, the circumstances under which they’re doing so in 2024 are unusual. The broad outline of Trump’s economic agenda suggests a hard swerve into privatization; in recent years, tech companies with roots in social media, retail, and search have been pushing hard into government contracting — including military contracting — in order to sustain growth. Tech companies and their leaders were uneasy administration antagonists during Trump’s first presidency, never quite figuring out how to balance employee and public backlash with pressure from the president and his allies. They really did think, after 2020, that they were done with him and he was done with them. Now, having signaled their interest in working with the government and the military, particularly with big potential AI contracts on the line as well as a corresponding intolerance of staff and members of the public who may think they shouldn’t, they’re clearly hoping for a different role this time.
A tech industry in which fate is more determined by expressions of political loyalty and patronage is an industry in which the range of possible outcomes for major firms is fundamentally altered: At one end, tentatively represented by Musk, you have oligarchal opportunity; at the other, you have arbitrary retribution and punishment. The latter is a fate that Bezos — who in 2019 saw Trump allegedly sabotage a major federal contract with Amazon over his “personal dislike” of the then-CEO and whose Blue Origin now competes directly with Musk’s SpaceX for massive new contracts — surely wants to avoid. (Every tech giant is gunning for AI contracts, and many could need help building or accessing power infrastructure to support their efforts; Musk, with a possible role inside government, is also competing in this space.) This isn’t a dynamic that major tech leaders can easily opt out of. We can expect them to become thoroughly politicized in ways that are both within and uncomfortably beyond their control. This time around, we shouldn’t be shocked to see groveling, over-the-top praise, swift apologies, and other rituals of highly personal appeasement and debasement. (A small secondary prediction: Tech reporting and business reporting in general will, under the second Trump administration, necessarily focus more on interpersonal conflict and palace intrigue. As was the case with leak-centric “who’s in, who’s out” stories about, say, Cabinet appointees during Trump’s first term — many of whom came from high positions in the military or the private sector and were unaccustomed and ultimately unable or unwilling to survive in such an environment — this reporting will be simultaneously insufficient for understanding what’s happening and often the best information anyone has. Is Trump annoyed by Musk? Is Vance still taking Thiel’s calls?)
As the first industry figure to embrace this new reality completely, Musk stands to benefit the most. He could also be first to encounter its inherent risks. Loyalty in this context isn’t just about support or allegiance — it’s about knowing, and acknowledging, who’s really the boss.
