I am GENUINELY baffled by Elon...
I will admit there was a time when I admired Elon Musk— maverick entrepreneur and seeming genius innovator who appeared to operate on principles aligned with an egalitarian worldview. His 2014 decision to open-source Tesla's patents felt like a pivotal moment in corporate history, a lesson in counterintuitive strategy, demonstrating the power of thinking beyond short-term gains and focusing on long-term impact.
Back then, Musk’s political stance was often described as 'libertarian' which, depending on the interpretation you choose, would be the label I would likely choose for myself.
In his own words, he referred to himself as "politically moderate." His actions reflected this ethos, blending bold ambition with what seemed to be a genuine desire to make the world better.
Fortunately, I am not a car guy but I can't deny I was eyeing up a Tesla. Now I ask myself if I'd be one of the Tesla owners who are, apparently, buying up insane numbers of anti-Elon bumper stickers?
Trusk and Mump
What I find most interesting, is how Elon Musk’s past actions and statements provide ample evidence that his values and political leanings would place him at odds with Donald Trump.
Climate
First and foremost, Musk has been a vocal advocate for combating climate change, a stance that fundamentally conflicts with Trump’s environmental policies.
In 2017, when Trump withdrew the United States from the Paris Climate Agreement, Musk publicly condemned the decision and resigned from the president’s business advisory councils. “Climate change is real. Leaving Paris is not good for America or the world,” he tweeted, highlighting his commitment to addressing global warming and sustainable energy. Musk’s leadership of Tesla and SpaceX reflects this ethos, as both companies aim to mitigate humanity’s environmental impact.
UBI
Musk’s policy stances also paint a picture of someone who aligns more closely with progressive ideals than Trump’s platform. For example, he has consistently supported universal basic income (UBI) as a way to address automation and economic inequality. In 2020, Musk said, “UBI is obviously needed,” citing its importance in preparing society for the disruption caused by artificial intelligence and robotics. This contrasts starkly with Trump’s emphasis on deregulation and a limited social safety net.
At Greenstone, we are focused on creating systems that, while not Universal Basic Income (UBI), aim to democratize access to income-generating investments for a much broader segment of society. The goal is to empower individuals by diversifying access to financial growth and security.
At the same time, I remain a strong advocate for the ideas outlined in Jeff Booth’s The Price of Tomorrow. Booth’s exploration of the deflationary power of technology offers a compelling vision for how innovation could reshape our world—potentially saving us all, provided we can move beyond the destructive myth of endless credit expansion without too much bloodshed.
Everything in Moderation... Including Moderation?
Furthermore, Musk’s voting record reveals a history of supporting Democrats. He publicly backed Barack Obama in 2008 and 2012, Hillary Clinton in 2016, and Joe Biden in 2020.
While Musk’s rhetoric shifted in 2022 when he announced his intention to vote Republican, his earlier endorsements suggest a political identity rooted in moderation rather than Trump’s brand of populism.
Musk even criticized Trump directly in 2016, saying that he “doesn’t seem to have the sort of character that reflects well on the United States.”
Immigration - But Only the Good Ones!
Musk’s immigration views further complicate the narrative. As an immigrant himself, Musk has long advocated for reform to create a streamlined process for legal immigration. In September 2023, he live-streamed a visit to the Texas-Mexico border, emphasizing his belief in allowing “hard-working and honest” individuals to immigrate legally.
While Musk has expressed concerns about illegal immigration, his focus on attracting talent and fostering opportunity diverges from Trump’s often inflammatory rhetoric on the topic.
Finally, Musk’s open criticism of Trump’s leadership underscores the apparent incompatibility of their values. In 2016, Musk described Trump as “probably not the right guy” for the presidency, adding that he was skeptical of Trump’s ability to represent the nation positively on the global stage. While Musk later worked with Trump on advisory councils, this was framed as an effort to provide a “voice of reason,” rather than an endorsement of Trump’s policies.
Taken together, these examples from Musk’s past suggest that his values—at least historically—are at odds with Trump’s. While Musk’s recent political shifts may add complexity to this narrative, his actions and statements from 2016 to 2023 highlight a tension that makes his support for Trump seem unexpected and contradictory.
So What the Fuck Happened?
But now, I’m not so sure. Musk’s recent moves—from his cryptic promotion of DOGE to his vocal takes on population growth and apparent libertarian leanings—leave me scratching my head with all eleven fingers. What are his motives? Is he still the same progressive disruptor he seemed to be, or has he become something else entirely?
Is the shift in Elon Musk’s political alignment and apparent support for Trump in 2024 a complex and layered phenomenon and the ongoing work of the maverick innovator?
Or has he just gone batshit crazy and I need to buy myself an anti-Elon bumper sticker?
I gotta wonder - has Musk been masterminding 'DOGE' all along, not just as a playful cryptocurrency but as a broader metaphor or even a potential framework? The "Department of Government Efficiency" (DOGE) concept isn’t entirely far-fetched, especially given Musk’s disdain for bloated bureaucracy and inefficiency. And I have to admit that I share that same disdain and admire someone that wants to (and potentially can) do something about it.
I think you would be hard pressed to argue that the bloated excesses of many governments don't need fixing, and Musk’s libertarian streak might see blockchain technology and decentralization as a way to streamline governance in line with Jeff Booth's Price of Tomorrow.
While many others are running to the relative safety of Bluesky, retreating to curated echo chambers, I feel compelled to stick around on X as well—not out of any loyalty to Elon Musk, blind optimism, or a penchant for rubber-necking car crashes, but because this platform is still where the cultural and political battles are being fought.
Bluesky feels like giving up the fight, isolating ourselves from differing perspectives rather than challenging them. Staying on X is my way of trying to remain engaged, to see how this unfolding experiment in free speech and chaos evolves, and, most importantly, to fight for compassion and decency in the public discourse. If this is where the conversation is happening, then this is where the fight for humanity’s better instincts must happen too.
One of the more curious facets of Musk’s recent public persona is his apparent pandering to the Christian right—a group whose values, on the surface, seem entirely at odds with his own. Musk, by his own admission, is not particularly religious.
He’s called himself a “cultural Christian” and expressed admiration for Jesus’ teachings of empathy and turning the other cheek, but he’s far from devout. Yet, we’ve seen him cozying up to figures and ideologies that champion traditionalist views, many of which conflict with his libertarian streak and commitment to scientific progress, and certainly a compound or two full of breeding baby mamas. How very Old Testament!
Why is this? Is it pragmatic pandering to secure the goodwill of an influential demographic? Is he merely playing the role of a populist, catering to a base that demands public displays of faith as a prerequisite for trust? Or is it just another one of his infamous troll moves—a way to stir up attention and keep everyone guessing about his true motives?
The Satanic Context - The Better Choice of Religion
Trust Satan to have the answers in our time of need. In all of this chaos, it’s easy to lose sight of what really matters: compassion.
That’s why I find myself turning to the Seven Tenets of the Temple of Satan as a moral framework—not in a religious sense, but as guiding principles for how to navigate these turbulent times. The tenets are as follows:
One should strive to act with compassion and empathy toward all creatures in accordance with reason.
The struggle for justice is an ongoing and necessary pursuit that should prevail over laws and institutions.
One’s body is inviolable, subject to one’s own will alone.
The freedoms of others should be respected, including the freedom to offend. To willfully and unjustly encroach upon the freedoms of another is to forgo one’s own.
Beliefs should conform to our best scientific understanding of the world. We should take care never to distort scientific facts to fit our beliefs.
People are fallible. If one makes a mistake, one should do one’s best to rectify it and resolve any harm that might have been caused.
Every tenet is a guiding principle designed to inspire nobility in action and thought. The spirit of compassion, wisdom, and justice should always prevail over the written or spoken word.
Two of the Tenets stand out as particularly relevant:
One should strive to act with compassion and empathy toward all creatures in accordance with reason.
Beliefs should conform to our best scientific understanding of the world. We should take care never to distort scientific facts to fit our beliefs.
When I think about Musk’s actions, whether it’s his push for free speech on X, his obsession with population growth, or even his promotion of DOGE, I can’t help but wonder—does he remember compassion and nobility?
Amid all the grand visions and disruptive ideas, is there room for empathy toward the millions of people struggling to find their place in a world that seems increasingly skewed toward the ultra-wealthy?
At the same time, as we question Musk’s motives and evaluate his actions, are we adhering to these Tenets ourselves? Are we striving to act with compassion? Or are we quick to judge, vilify, and dismiss? Are we using scientific truth as a guide, or are we cherry-picking facts to suit our narratives?
Compassion doesn’t mean letting people off the hook; it means holding everyone—including ourselves—accountable to higher standards of thought and behavior. If Musk’s vision for the future doesn’t include these principles, it’s up to the rest of us to ensure they remain at the forefront of the conversation.
King of the Compound
And then there’s Musk’s pronatalist crusade. He’s committed to the cause—living it out with his compounds, his harem of baby mamas, and a growing tribe of children who will presumably inherit not just his wealth but the planet-saving mission he seems so keen to pass on.
But here’s the thing: for the rest of us mere mortals, raising a family isn’t a matter of charisma and confidence. It’s a question of survival. Most families don’t have the luxury of private jets, nannies, and endless resources to support the “breed like crazy” approach.
So, if we’re serious about pronatalism—and not just for the ultra-rich—don’t we need a framework to make it viable for everyone? Enter the DOGE: the Department of Government Efficiency. Musk talks about solving inefficiencies, so let’s start by fixing the systems that make having kids such a burden for regular people.
Affordable healthcare. Decent wages. Paid parental leave. It’s not rocket science (and if it were, Musk would already be all over it).
The problem, of course, is that this runs headlong into the MAGA mentality. “Small government” and “freedom!” are the rallying cries of the same folks who worship Musk for his genius. But guess what? You can’t have a thriving, pronatalist society while screaming “fuck you” to collective responsibility. Supporting families requires systems, not slogans, and that means MAGA’s rugged individualism is fundamentally at odds with Musk’s supposed mission at the DOGE.
And then there’s immigration, which Musk himself has called essential to maintaining a strong workforce. Sure, I agree we can’t have millions of undocumented people pouring across borders unchecked. But where is the compassion for refugees, for people fleeing war, poverty, and disaster? If we’re worried about birth rates and a declining workforce, why not create humane immigration policies that align with Musk’s vision? The answer, sadly, lies in the same MAGA hypocrisy that celebrates Musk’s brilliance while rejecting the kind of open-minded solutions he seems to advocate.
The same double standard exists in the abortion debate. Sure, we can agree that late-term abortions shouldn’t be taken lightly. But where’s the compassion for mothers? For women making impossible choices in a country where healthcare is a privilege and childcare costs as much as rent? It’s easy to wave the “pro-life” banner when you’re not the one footing the bill—or dealing with the consequences of restrictive laws that only make motherhood harder.
So here we are, with Musk’s vision of saving humanity and MAGA’s vision of tearing itself apart in a libertarian fever dream. The irony is palpable. If Musk really wants to solve the problem of population decline, it’s not just about convincing people to have kids. It’s about creating a world where they can. And that starts with compassion—for families, for immigrants, and for mothers—because without it, all the pronatalist rhetoric in the world is just noise.
Making America Great... Again?
Let’s not pretend that Trump Republicanism is even remotely aligned with the goal of creating a better, more inclusive, well-educated society that takes care of its weakest members without overspending. For starters, look at the treatment of education. Instead of strengthening public schools—the backbone of an equitable society—Trump-era policies pushed school choice and private options that siphon resources away from public education.
Sure, it’s great if you can afford private schools or live in a district with great charter options, but for everyone else? Good luck. The message is clear: education isn’t a universal priority; it’s just another commodity for those who can afford it.
Then there’s the glorification of “pull yourself up by your bootstraps” individualism, which completely ignores systemic barriers. It’s a convenient narrative for those at the top, but what about everyone else?
The reality is that without a baseline of support—affordable healthcare, access to quality education, and protections for the most vulnerable—millions are left behind. But compassion for the weakest link? That’s not exactly a MAGA talking point. Instead, you get tax cuts for the wealthy while millions of working families struggle to make ends meet.
The contradictions only pile up when you look at healthcare. Trump Republicanism has consistently attacked the Affordable Care Act, stripping away coverage and protections for millions. So while Musk might preach the gospel of humanity’s future—Mars colonies, population growth, and technological utopia—who’s looking out for the people struggling in the here and now? A society that ignores the health and wellbeing of its weakest members isn’t building for the future; it’s digging its own grave.
And let’s not even get started on fiscal responsibility. For all the MAGA rhetoric about cutting government spending, the reality is a bloated defense budget and tax breaks for billionaires—not exactly the kind of “efficient government” Musk might envision under his hypothetical DOGE.
Meanwhile, investments in infrastructure, education, and social safety nets are slashed, leaving the average American to fend for themselves in a system that’s increasingly tilted toward the top 1%.
Finally, there’s the stark lack of compassion in immigration policies. Yes, border security is important—no one is arguing for a free-for-all. But where is the humanity in separating families, caging children, and turning away refugees fleeing unimaginable horrors? If we’re talking about creating a society that values its weakest links, that includes extending a hand to those who’ve been dealt the worst cards. Musk’s pronatalist vision of a thriving population and innovative workforce can’t coexist with policies that vilify immigrants and deny asylum to those in need.
Trump Republicanism thrives on exclusion, division, and short-term wins. It flies in the face of the long-term, inclusive vision needed to create a society where everyone has a chance to thrive. So while Musk may position himself as a visionary, his flirtation with MAGA ideals undermines the very foundation of what he claims to stand for. If we’re serious about building a better world, we need policies rooted in compassion, equity, and investment in people—not just empty slogans and tax cuts for the rich.
If we’re talking about a time when America was “great” in fostering inclusivity, education, and social care, the truth is, there hasn’t been a golden age where these ideals were fully realized. But there have been moments of progress that seemed to point in the right direction.
Take the post-World War II era, for example. The GI Bill of 1944 opened up opportunities for returning veterans, providing access to education, housing, and job training. This era saw an expansion of public education, infrastructure investments, and economic growth that lifted millions into the middle class. For many Americans—predominantly white men—this period could be seen as a high point of opportunity and inclusion. But even then, systemic racism and sexism barred women and people of color from accessing the same benefits, leaving entire communities excluded from this so-called greatness.
Fast forward to the 1960s and 70s, and we see the Great Society programs under Lyndon B. Johnson. These included Medicare, Medicaid, and the War on Poverty, aiming to reduce inequality and expand access to healthcare and education. Landmark civil rights legislation during this time also broke down some of the legal barriers to inclusion for Black Americans and other marginalized groups. But again, these strides were uneven, met with backlash, and constrained by systemic racism, economic disparity, and cultural resistance.
The mid-to-late 20th century also saw significant investments in public education, with the U.S. once leading the world in access to higher education through initiatives like the expansion of state universities and community colleges. Yet, even as college enrollments grew, the quality of education and access to resources varied dramatically across racial and socioeconomic lines. Redlining, segregation, and funding inequalities ensured that the system worked better for some than others.
In terms of compassion for the “weakest link,” the New Deal era in the 1930s is often heralded as a turning point. Social Security, unemployment insurance, and labor protections were revolutionary at the time, providing a safety net for millions of struggling Americans during the Great Depression. Yet, these programs often excluded women and minorities—particularly Black workers in the agricultural and domestic sectors.
What About Today?
The reality is, the greatness America has often aspired to has always been partial and uneven. Each of these “great” moments in U.S. history came with caveats—benefits for some, exclusion for others. The challenge has always been expanding the circle of who gets included in the vision of greatness.
So, was America ever truly “great” in these regards? Perhaps not in the idealized sense. But there have been moments where the country seemed to be moving closer to those ideals—when ambition, investment, and compassion were prioritized. The work has always been unfinished, and the question remains whether we’ll ever reach a point where inclusivity, education, and care for the vulnerable aren’t just ambitions but realities for all.
If anything, those historical efforts remind us that greatness isn’t about nostalgia or returning to a mythical past.
It’s about building on the progress we’ve made, confronting our failures, and committing to a future that’s better than anything we’ve achieved before.
$35T Conundrum
How did the United States—and, by extension, many Western democracies—end up drowning in trillions of dollars of debt? The story isn’t unique to America. It’s a tale of systemic overspending, political gridlock, and short-term thinking, combined with a growing disillusionment among citizens who are increasingly sick of the whole mess. Against this backdrop, it’s no surprise that figures like Donald Trump—masters of spin, soundbites, and populist propaganda—have risen to power, offering simple solutions to complex problems. The same dynamic is playing out in other parts of the world, as popularism takes root in the frustration of the masses.
The heart of the problem lies in fiscal irresponsibility. Governments in the U.S. and beyond have spent decades promising everything to everyone, without the revenues to match. Budget deficits have become the norm, not the exception, with leaders from across the political spectrum happily kicking the can down the road. It’s far easier to campaign on tax cuts and new spending programs than on the hard truths of fiscal discipline. The result? Ballooning debts in countries like the U.S., UK, Italy, and Japan, with no coherent plan to rein them in.
In America, mandatory spending is a major driver. Programs like Social Security, Medicare, and Medicaid—designed as safety nets—are increasingly expensive as populations age and healthcare costs rise. These programs are politically untouchable; any suggestion of reform sparks outrage, leaving policymakers paralyzed. But this isn’t just an American issue. Across Europe, similar entitlement programs are straining budgets, from France’s pension system to Germany’s healthcare subsidies.
Defense spending adds another layer to the problem. The U.S., in particular, pours billions into its military budget—more than the next ten countries combined. While some argue this is essential for global security, critics point to the waste and inefficiency that accompany such massive outlays. In Europe, too, military spending has risen in response to geopolitical tensions, even as other critical sectors—like infrastructure and education—remain underfunded.
Then there’s tax policy, which often exacerbates the problem. Tax cuts, particularly for corporations and the wealthy, are popular among politicians and their donors, but they reduce government revenue without corresponding cuts in spending. This trend isn’t unique to the U.S.; similar policies have played out in the UK and Australia, creating fiscal imbalances that deepen the debt crisis.
Add to this the crises of recent decades. From the 2008 global financial meltdown to the COVID-19 pandemic, governments have been forced to spend trillions on stimulus packages, bailouts, and public health measures. While necessary, these emergency expenditures have accelerated debt growth, leaving countries scrambling to deal with the fallout.
Compounding all of this is the rise in interest payments on these massive debts. As central banks raise interest rates to combat inflation, servicing national debt becomes even more expensive, crowding out spending on other priorities. It’s a vicious cycle that many Western democracies now find themselves trapped in.
And let’s not ignore political inertia. Fixing debt requires tough choices—cutting popular programs, raising taxes, or both. But in an era of political polarization, where even basic governance often feels impossible, tackling something as complex as national debt seems unthinkable. This paralysis has allowed populists to step into the void, offering oversimplified solutions that resonate with frustrated voters. It’s no surprise that people are tired of empty promises and political theater. They’re looking for someone—anyone—who appears to shake up the status quo.
Trump’s rise in the U.S. is a textbook example of this phenomenon. His ability to distill complex issues into soundbites, combined with a narrative of “draining the swamp” and rejecting the establishment, struck a chord with many disillusioned Americans. And the U.S. isn’t alone. Across Europe and beyond, similar figures have emerged, capitalizing on widespread dissatisfaction with governments that seem incapable of managing their economies or addressing inequality.
The truth is, this isn’t just an American problem. It’s a broader crisis of governance, one that stems from decades of poor decision-making and a failure to address the structural issues behind debt. And as populists gain traction, offering simplistic answers to complex problems, the danger is that the underlying issues will only deepen.
Whether in the U.S., Europe, or elsewhere, the challenge is the same: finding leaders willing to make hard choices, embrace long-term thinking, and navigate the delicate balance between fiscal responsibility and compassion. Until that happens, the debt—and the frustration of the people—will only continue to grow.
The Challenge Ahead - Make America Great for the First Time
So how does Musk propose to fix the mess of a $35 trillion national debt? Based on his past statements and actions, you can almost see him rubbing his hands together at the thought of turning America into a streamlined, blockchain-powered, AI-driven utopia.
Efficiency is his buzzword. Cut waste, automate bureaucracy, and for heaven’s sake, let’s just do better. This is where I could almost get on board with him—almost.
Again, take Jeff’s vision from The Price of Tomorrow, which argues that technology is the key to abundance. Booth sees technological deflation—the force that makes things cheaper, faster, and better—as a way to create a future where resources are distributed more equitably. If we harness technology correctly, we can reduce costs, minimize waste, and provide for everyone in ways that weren’t possible in the past.
Musk, in his best moments, seems to share that faith. The idea of a "Department of Government Efficiency" (DOGE)—a reimagining of government that cuts through red tape and embraces innovation—could genuinely be transformative.
And sure, smaller government makes sense in theory. Less waste, fewer inefficiencies, and policies that let people thrive without a bloated bureaucracy holding them back. But here’s the rub: you can’t build a better, more egalitarian future by steamrolling over compassion. This is where Musk’s libertarian streak collides head-on with reality.
You want to fix the debt and promote abundance? Great. But you don’t get there by ignoring the people at the bottom of the pile.
The conclusion? Smaller government, powered by technology? Sure, as long as it’s paired with systems that protect the vulnerable. A bold move toward abundance through innovation? Absolutely, but only if it includes the people who need it most.
Compassion doesn’t have to mean waste; it means doing better for everyone.
The Gauntlet
So where does that leave us? In the midst of this mess, Elon Musk—enigmatic, polarizing, and undeniably brilliant—stands as a symbol of both the promise and peril of our time.
He’s a man who once championed universal basic income, open-sourced Tesla’s patents, and poured his fortune into solving humanity’s biggest problems. These are not the actions of a cynical profiteer—they’re the moves of someone who genuinely seemed to believe in building a better future for all.
And that’s why it’s so disheartening to see Musk now mired in controversy, trolling his critics, and cozying up to ideologies that seem to fly in the face of everything he once stood for.
But maybe—just maybe—he hasn’t given up on those values. Maybe the Musk who dreams of backing up humanity on Mars, creating abundant energy through renewables, and fixing inefficiencies in government still exists. Maybe he still wants to solve problems, not just for himself and his “baby mama compound,” but for the billions of people who don’t have the luxury of failing upwards or tweeting their way out of trouble.
Here’s the challenge, Elon: Can you fix it? Can you take your brilliance, your resources, and your obsessive focus on solutions and apply them to the systems that need it most? Can you tackle inefficiency without losing sight of the people those systems are supposed to serve? Can you reimagine government, debt, and society in a way that uplifts everyone, not just the ultra-wealthy? You’ve disrupted industries before—now disrupt inequality, inefficiency, and greed.
And when you do, please act with compassion. Compassion isn’t weakness; it’s the foundation of strength. It’s the reason people trust you to lead, to inspire, and to innovate. Fixing the debt, creating abundance, and promoting efficiency can’t come at the cost of humanity’s most vulnerable. Compassion means ensuring the systems you overhaul leave no one behind—whether that’s families in poverty, immigrants seeking refuge, or children who deserve a shot at a decent education.
I hope you’re still the person who once believed in universal basic income as a way to address inequality, who saw innovation as a tool for progress rather than profit, and who understood that a future worth building is one that works for everyone.
Who wouldn’t want to slash waste, streamline bureaucracy, and build a future that actually works? But there’s always that nagging doubt. What am I actually supporting here? Is this really about creating a better, fairer world, or is it just the shiny façade of a company—or a movement—with good intentions masking something darker?
It’s hard not to think about those sci-fi warnings we’ve been fed for decades.
Are we inching closer to Tyrell Corporation, OCP, or some other dystopian monolith where power consolidates in the hands of a few, while the rest of us are left to fend for scraps? Is Musk’s vision for the DOGE an earnest attempt to fix broken systems and promote abundance, or is it veering into Dr. Evil territory—a world where efficiency trumps empathy, and the rest of us are just pawns in someone else’s master plan?
Here’s where I hesitate: I want to believe that DOGE—if it ever existed—could genuinely address the bloat and inefficiency that plague governments. That it could tackle waste without gutting the programs that people rely on, and that it could use technology to empower, not exploit. But the line between idealism and dystopia is thin, especially when the person driving the vision is as polarizing as Musk.
Supporting DOGE—or anything like it—isn’t inherently wrong. In fact, it’s tempting to get behind something that claims to fix the mess we’re all in. But we can’t lose sight of the bigger questions: Who benefits? Who loses? And what kind of world are we really building? Because if it’s a world where compassion and inclusivity are sacrificed at the altar of efficiency, then maybe we’re not as far from the sci-fi nightmares as we’d like to think.
So, yes, I can support DOGE—or the idea of it. But only if it’s clear that it’s not a tool to consolidate power, dehumanize systems, or create another dystopia disguised as progress. The hope is that someone like Musk can steer the ship without succumbing to the allure of playing the villain. The fear is that we might already be on that path.
So here’s your moment, Elon. Be the disruptor, the fixer, the dreamer—but don’t forget the compassion that makes all of it worthwhile. The world needs someone who can balance brilliance with empathy, innovation with humanity. It needs someone who can inspire us to believe that the future isn’t just for the few but for all of us. If that’s still you, then maybe the hope for a better world isn’t misplaced after all and maybe I can still ride in a Robotesla without spoiling the upholstery or the queasy smell of MAGA.