Politics / July 18, 2024

It’s Official: Silicon Valley Is Fully MAGA-Pilled

The tech industry is falling over itself to embrace Trump and J.D. Vance. It’s a mask-off moment.

Jacob Silverman
Elon Musk during the Cannes Lions International Festival Of Creativity 2024.

Elon Musk during the Cannes Lions International Festival Of Creativity 2024.

(Marc Piasecki / Getty Images)

The assassination attempt on Donald Trump drew an already sympathetic class of top tech executives even closer to the Republican presidential nominee. Elon Musk, who had promised as recently as March that he would not directly support a candidate, announced soon after the shooting that he “fully endorses” Trump.

Despite the seeming abruptness of the turn, Musk’s backing was a fait accompli: He and Trump have reportedly been speaking together frequently in recent months, and their bitterly reactionary politics obviously align. Within days, The Wall Street Journal reported that Musk was committing a remarkable $45 million per month to America PAC, a new pro-Trump super PAC that would also be supported by Palantir cofounder Joe Lonsdale, Mark Zuckerberg castoffs Tyler and Cameron Winklevoss, and several members of what’s sometimes called the Paypal mafia, a right-wing network of tech industry leaders with Peter Thiel as its presiding majordomo.

If, two years ago The New York Times could make the dubious claim that tech giants like Musk were hard to pin down politically, there is no room now for even that level of credulousness. It’s official: Silicon Valley has been fully MAGA-pilled, and the tech authoritarians are bringing their money with them.

On Monday, Trump unveiled as his VP pick Ohio Senator J.D. Vance, a former Thiel employee and venture capitalist who owes his election to the Senate to a $15 million campaign cash infusion from Thiel. For the tech industry, whose rightward swerve has been hard to ignore this campaign cycle, the Vance selection was sensational. “We have a former tech VC in the White House,” crowed Delian Asparouhov, a partner at Thiel’s Founders Fund who once drew notice for sharing a comic by the neo-Nazi cartoonist known as StoneToss. “Greatest country on Earth baby.”

Musk, who had reportedly been agitating privately for Trump to choose Vance, celebrated the pick on X. “Resounds with victory,” he wrote. Vivek Ramaswamy posted wistful, supportive remarks about being drinking buddies with Vance at Yale Law School. Using the term of endearment favored by his fellow mega-rich “All-In” podcast hosts, Chamath Palihapitiya celebrated the news: “A Bestie adjacent as the VP?!?!?!”

Thiel, who is infamous for his stated aversion to democracy, has claimed that he is sitting out this election, but his baton has been passed to a gaggle of ornery venture capitalists and tech CEOs whom you may recognize from their grievance-laden X posts: Lonsdale, David Sacks, Shaun Maguire, Marc Andreessen, et al. They are all very rich and control a lot of capital beyond their own. They are also wielding increasing influence over the Trump campaign: Sacks spoke at the Republican National Convention in Milwaukee on Monday.

Vance’s appointment as the VP candidate is a major moment for these Silicon Valley elites, who have thrived under Republican and Democratic presidents alike but now find their reactionary politics in tight alignment with MAGA faux populism. Many Americans know Vance as a hillbilly made good, but for America’s right-wing tech class, he’s simply one of them.

Silicon Valley conservatives had already turned on the money spigot for Trump. Vance’s ascension prompted them to fully open the tap. This week, Andreessen and Ben Horowitz, who head the highly influential VC firm bearing their names, announced on a podcast that they would be donating to pro-Trump PACs. Stalwart conservative donors like Timothy Mellon, Jeffrey Yass, Richard and Elizabeth Uihlein, Rob Bigelow, and Ken Griffin have collectively poured hundreds of millions of dollars into Republican campaign organizations. They are about to be joined by a bunch of guys who split time between mansions in San Francisco, Los Angeles, and Miami.

The libertarian-minded cryptocurrency industry has also quietly dominated political giving this year. Despite being relatively small in terms of revenue—and having experienced the disastrous collapse precipitated by FTX and other fraudulent enterprises in 2022—crypto companies have a lot of money to deploy to shove their regulatory priorities across the finish line. They’ve been lobbying Congress and statehouses for months, showing as much zeal for influence-peddling as Sam Bankman-Fried ever did. So far this cycle, Fairshake, a crypto PAC funded by Coinbase, Ripple Labs, Jump, and other top players—including Andreessen Horowitz and Winklevoss Capital Management—has raised about $177.8 million, putting it less than a million dollars behind Make America Great Again for the top spot among all political action committees.

Fairshake has already spent millions to successfully defeat Democrats like Katie Porter and Jamaal Bowman in primary elections. As the tech critic Molly White wrote on her new site Follow the Crypto, which tracks crypto political spending, Fairshake is focused on a single issue: “installing crypto-friendly politicians and ousting those the industry views as a threat.”

Vance happens to be a crypto devotee who has been circulating a draft bill that one lobbyist told Politico was almost too friendly to the crypto industry and would come across as excessively “partisan.” The crypto industry got their man on the ticket, and Vance and other Republicans will almost certainly be beneficiaries of Fairshake’s massive war chest. Any discussion, then, of the emergence of a right-wing Silicon Valley political donor class has to include the cryptocurrency industry, whose leaders’ politics tend to exist on a scale between libertarian and explicitly anti-government. (That is, when some of their brightest lights aren’t engaged in multibillion-dollar frauds.)

These are the political and monetary currents now being tapped by the Trump campaign. It’s pretty much the same plutocracy practiced by the Koch brothers, the Mellons, and numerous other members of the idle rich, but with a shiny Silicon Valley wrapper. For old money and new, their interests now align, as Donald Trump becomes the bizarre standard-bearer for venture capitalists’ techno-fascist political project.

Can we count on you?

In the coming election, the fate of our democracy and fundamental civil rights are on the ballot. The conservative architects of Project 2025 are scheming to institutionalize Donald Trump’s authoritarian vision across all levels of government if he should win.

We’ve already seen events that fill us with both dread and cautious optimism—throughout it all, The Nation has been a bulwark against misinformation and an advocate for bold, principled perspectives. Our dedicated writers have sat down with Kamala Harris and Bernie Sanders for interviews, unpacked the shallow right-wing populist appeals of J.D. Vance, and debated the pathway for a Democratic victory in November.

Stories like these and the one you just read are vital at this critical juncture in our country’s history. Now more than ever, we need clear-eyed and deeply reported independent journalism to make sense of the headlines and sort fact from fiction. Donate today and join our 160-year legacy of speaking truth to power and uplifting the voices of grassroots advocates.

Throughout 2024 and what is likely the defining election of our lifetimes, we need your support to continue publishing the insightful journalism you rely on.

Thank you,
The Editors of The Nation

Jacob Silverman

Jacob Silverman is the author of Terms of Service: Social Media and the Price of Constant Connection and the coauthor of Easy Money: Cryptocurrency, Casino Capitalism, and the Golden Age of Fraud. He is working on a book about Silicon Valley and the political right.

More from The Nation

White Backlash

White Backlash White Backlash

Desecration day.

This Week / Steve Brodner

Vice President Kamala Harris and Governor Tim Walz sit for a joint interview with CNN's Dana Bash.

The Beltway Media Got Its Harris Interview. Can We Move on Now? The Beltway Media Got Its Harris Interview. Can We Move on Now?

Harris and Walz held their own during an interview driven more by media-made controversies than substance.

Joan Walsh

Delegates wearing keffiyehs hold up signs with the names of people who died in the Gaza war on the second day of the Democratic National Convention at the United Center in Chicago on August 20, 2024.

I’m Still Hoping to Vote for Kamala Harris I’m Still Hoping to Vote for Kamala Harris

But the hope I felt when she became the nominee has been curdling into despair over her refusal to allow a Palestinian to address the convention—and her continuing silence on Gaza...

Benjamin Moser

Donald Trump smiling next to J.D. Vance

Don’t Underestimate Donald Trump’s Coalition of the Weird Don’t Underestimate Donald Trump’s Coalition of the Weird

The GOP’s new league of fringe figures tries to replicate the party’s winning formula of 2016. And it just might work again.

Jeet Heer

Vice President Kamala Harris takes the stage alongside Andrea Campbell, who is being discussed as a possible attorney general pick.

It’s Not Too Early to Ask: Who Should Replace Merrick Garland? It’s Not Too Early to Ask: Who Should Replace Merrick Garland?

Should Kamala Harris win in November, her attorney general pick will be among her most critical cabinet appointments. Progressives should start organizing now.

Elie Mystal

The complex Kennedy legacy has reactionary as well as liberal strands. Former Republican presidential candidate Robert F. Kennedy Jr. and Donald Trump shake hands during a campaign rally at Desert Diamond Arena on August 23, 2024, in Glendale, Arizona. When he endorsed Donald Trump last Friday, Robert F. Kennedy Jr. (RFK Jr.) ignited a family drama. His famous family name is one of RFK Jr.’s main political assets, so it was not surprising that in explaining why he was suspending his campaign and backing Trump, he claimed the posthumous support of the two most famous members of his clan, his father, Robert F. Kennedy (RFK), and his uncle John F. Kennedy (JFK), both assassinated in the 1960s. RFK Jr. claimed that the two deceased statesmen “are looking down right now and they are very, very proud.” This audacious and galling claim was too much for Kennedy’s family. Five of RFK Jr.’s siblings issued a statement saying the endorsement was a “a betrayal of the values our father and our family hold most dear.” This letter was signed by Kathleen Kennedy Townsend, Courtney Kennedy, Kerry Kennedy, Chris Kennedy, and Rory Kennedy. In an interview with MSNBC, Kerry Kennedy said she was “outraged and disgusted by my brother’s gaudy and obscene embrace of Donald Trump.” She added that her father “would have detested almost everything Donald Trump represents if he was alive today.” Another RFK descendant, brother Max, wrote an op-ed in the Los Angeles Times that denounced RFK Jr.’s support of Trump as “sordid,” as well as “a hollow grab for power, a strategic attempt at relevance.” Max Kennedy noted that prior to backing Trump, his brother had unsuccessfully approached the Harris campaign with a quid pro quo, a possible endorsement in exchange for a position in her administration. It appears that Trump made the kind of deal RFK Jr. wanted, so if Trump returns to the White House there will be a position waiting for the black sheep of the Kennedy dynasty. RFK Jr. boasted to Tucker Carlson that he’ll be part of Trump’s transition team and “help pick the people who will be running the government.” Writing in The Washington Post, columnist Karen Tumulty lamented that “RFK Jr. has sullied the Kennedy name and the dimming aura of Camelot.” It’s undeniable that RFK Jr. has betrayed the liberalism that his family, in its best moments, embodied. Indeed, RFK Jr. also proved disloyal to his own stated values, since only a few years ago he condemned Trump as a “threat to democracy,” “a terrible president,” and “a sociopath” whose politics was based on “bigotry,” “hatred,” and “xenophobia.” Given this abrupt about-face, it’s not surprising that former close collaborators with RFK Jr., notably the investigative journalist Greg Palast, openly speak about the politician as someone who has “lost his mind” But as manifestly corrupt as RFK Jr.’s behavior is, we should be wary of the narrative of Camelot betrayed, which relies on the attractive fiction that there is a unified and unsullied Kennedy legacy. In truth, the Kennedys, who have been national figures for more than a century, have been all over the map politically—not always in admirable ways. The family have long been Democrats, but at times very reactionary ones, in a manner that does decidedly show an affinity for Trumpism. As the historian Garry Wills documented in his classic book The Kennedy Imprisonment (1982), the most searching of all books about the dynasty, the family’s patriarch, Joseph Kennedy (1888–1969), imprinted on his large brood a host of bad habits. The grandchild of Irish immigrants and son of a successful Boston politician, Kennedy rose to stratospheric wealth through the stock market and liquor (although not, contrary to popular myths, by bootlegging). But his plutocratic success didn’t win Kennedy many friends among Boston’s Brahmins—snooty WASPs who saw the Irish as inherently low-class. Stung by social rejection, Kennedy pursued alternative paths to status via Hollywood (taking, among many other starlets, Gloria Swanson as a mistress) and politics. Although a Democrat who was appointed as ambassador to England from 1938 to 1940, Kennedy fought bitterly with President Franklin D. Roosevelt. During his disastrous term as ambassador, Kennedy threw in his lot with the aristocratic Cliveden set in England who wanted to accept Hitler as overlord of Europe in order to build a bulwark against communism. When his own government rejected this embrace of Nazi domination of Europe, Kennedy concluded that FDR’s mind had been poisoned by a cabal of wicked Jews (such as Felix Frankfurter and Sidney Hillman) who were dragging America to war. A primordial patriarch, Kennedy saw the world in belligerent macho terms: All men were rivals; all women existed for sexual conquest. He passed along this attitude to many of his sons, sometimes, as Wills and other historians have documented, sharing his mistresses with his boys. As Wills conclusively shows, this macho attitude was a pervasive part of the life of JFK and RFK (although RFK, who had a streak of devout Catholicism, was not a compulsive womanizer). During the 1950s both Kennedy brothers were classic Cold War militant anti-communists. JFK was pals with Joseph McCarthy, even going on double dates with the Wisconsin demagogue. RFK served on the staff of McCarthy’s Senate Subcommittee on Investigations and wanted to be chief counsel, a job that was won by Roy Cohn (who would go on to be Donald Trump’s mentor in the art of dirty politics). In 1960, JFK ran to the right of Richard Nixon on foreign policy, decrying a fictional missile gap. As Wills notes, the failed invasion of Cuba in 1961 at the Bay of Pigs was a pure distillation of the Kennedy style of masculinist politics. The Bay of Pigs, Wills argues, was taken to heart because it was so clearly marked with the new traits of Kennedy’s own government. It had for its target the man who obsessed Kennedy. It had for its leader the ideal of Kennedy’s “best and brightest.” It was a chess game backed by daring—played mind to mind, macho to macho, charisma to charisma. It was a James Bond exploit blessed by Yale, a PT raid run by Ph.D.s. It was the very definition of the New Frontier. To the credit of the Kennedys, they also had a capacity to learn from their mistakes. During the Cuban missile crisis, JFK discovered how dangerous brinksmanship could be. A new openness to diplomacy can be heard in JFK’s address to American University, delivered on June 10, 1963, just five months before he was assassinated. JFK’s counterinsurgency program and meddling in South Vietnamese politics (including turning a blind eye to the assassination plot against President Ngo Dinh Diem) entangled the United States in a disastrous war. But by the late 1960s, both RFK Jr. and Edward Kennedy were outspoken critics of that war. Edward Kennedy went on to be an outstanding liberal senator, although his role in the death of Mary Jo Kopechne, a manslaughter case covered by Kennedy cronies, is a reminder of the family’s outrageous license. And Edward Kennedy remained unchecked in his sexual harassment of women, a lasting family trait. Last November, I appeared on the podcast Know Your Enemy to talk about Wills’s Kennedy Imprisonment. The show’s cohost Sam Adler-Bell noted that, on many points, the JFK in the book reminded him of Donald Trump: an aggressive and exploitive womanizer with vulgar taste who was saturated with media culture (Frank Sinatra and the Rat Pack in the case of JFK, reality TV in the case of Trump). The Kennedy presidency was the first really media-dominated administration, obsessed with “charisma” (an idea taken from the sociologist Max Weber but popularized in that era) and image-making (a concept expounded in 1962 by the historian Daniel J. Boorstin). The traits of charismatic leadership, as detailed by the sociologist Reinhard Bendix and distilled by Wills, are eerily prescient of the Trump era: a loose, personal style of leadership that prioritizes the loyalty of cronies and transactional deal-making above consensus building, democratic accountability, or following norms. Further, the aristocratic ideals JFK inherited from his perversely Anglophilic father, the belief that strong societies require great leaders who can transcend the blindness of the masses, was the seedbed of antidemocratic impulses that still bedevil American society. The Kennedys, therefore, have a mixed legacy. If they have been leaders of American liberalism, they’ve also at times embodied anti-liberal impulses that are antithetical to democracy. One way to describe RFK Jr.’s politics is that in endorsing Trump he is abandoning the liberalism of Edward Kennedy and reverting to the America First authoritarianism of his grandfather. It’s easy to understand why RFK, his siblings, and his cousins all remain haunted by the legacy of their family. To be the children of great men who were killed young is a heavy burden. This is part of what Wills means by the Kennedy imprisonment. But both the family and America would benefit from finding a way to escape this prison. The problem is not just that RFK Jr. has betrayed his father’s legacy, but also that he and America need to be more clear-eyed about how limited that legacy is. Camelot was always a myth. To move forward, that myth has to be left behind.

The Backlash Comes for Oakland’s Progressive Prosecutor The Backlash Comes for Oakland’s Progressive Prosecutor

Pamela Price, the Alameda County DA, is fighting a recall vote and to defend her unwavering refusal to over-criminalize young people.

Piper French