One possible answer: tribalism. “This idea is ours, therefore, it is true. Other people’s ideas are wrong.”
You can see this in religions very well where members of one religion look upon the religious practices of members of other religions with disdain. “The ceremonial religious garments of religion X are primitive, but ours are not.”
To an external observer, this interreligious, interideological contempt may seem bizarre, but from a tribalist perspective, it’s vital.
I am a huge sceptic of “being interplanetary”. I think it’s an out-and-out fantasy. There have been any number of articles about the hostility of the Martian environment to human and other earth-based life-forms. Sure, you could populate it with machines — that is feasible. But the idea of the colonization of Mars is science fiction (ref).
I wanted to like Elon Musk, but I think he’s proven himself a baneful individual. That disgraceful episode of so-called ‘cost cutting’ ("feeding U.S.A.I.D. into the woodchipper) and his constant promotion of conspiracy nonsense and right-wing memes is the true picture of the man. He’s obviously brilliant in business and engineering, there’s no question about that whatsoever. But he’s no humanist. He’s described empathy as a fundamental weakness. Which is a tragedy, because think of what he could do if he had an ounce of it — which he doesn’t.
I believe this is very sincere and highly significant. We may possess a set of pristine tools for dissecting reality—instruments capable of performing an autopsy on anything, analyzing every detail, conducting a thorough examination, and providing the most precise descriptions.
Yet, all of this only holds meaning when we actually feel something. Whether or not we perceive sincerity, whether or not we are prepared to trust—guided solely by our feelings—is what matters.
I would like to offer a striking and compelling example:
On April 16, 1945, by order of General Patton—commander of the U.S. Third Army—1,000 men and women from Weimar were compelled to visit Buchenwald. Inside the camp, liberated prisoners and American soldiers confronted them with evidence of the atrocities. They showed them the horrific conditions of the “Little Camp” (Kleines Lager), instruments of torture, human remains from the camp’s pathology unit, the crematorium, and the corpses of prisoners who had perished.
American photographer Margaret Bourke-White was present during the encounter between the survivors and the residents of Weimar: “When the civilians began to repeat, ‘We didn’t know! We didn’t know!’ the former prisoners were incensed. ‘You did know!’ they shouted. ‘We worked side-by-side with you in the factories. We risked our lives to tell you. But you did nothing.’” Just a few days later, representatives of the town denied that its citizens bore any responsibility for the crimes.
This example serves as a vivid illustration of the fact that our entire philosophy can often function as an elaborate defense mechanism for our own prejudices or feelings. Naturally, when reading a post like the one I shared at the beginning, a reader first compares what they’ve read against their own intuitive premises; subsequently, their analytical faculty seeks to uncover the intuitive premises held by the author. Once some understanding of these is reached, the conversation shifts toward refuting those very premises.
But as I noted earlier, I am not interested in Musk as an individual. I am interested in Musk as a phenomenon—and in how a fantasy about the future shapes the present and rewrites the past.
I have a few thoughts on this for today.
It seems that the future is becoming a form of indulgence. As long as we keep our eyes fixed on the stars alongside Musk, we don’t have to peer into the dark basements of our present reality.
What’s stopping Musk—instead of reaching for the skies—from organizing life in some African nation, lifting its people out of the darkness of mines and mud huts and into a bright, progressive future of glass and concrete?
In terms of progress, for an African country with a population of 20–30 million, this would represent a massive leap forward—far more significant than inching a tiny bit further into the vastness of space. It would also set a powerful precedent: a demonstration of how progress can actively shape the present, guiding people toward a brighter future defined by abundance and happiness.
The problem is that such ideas don’t sell very well. Yet, if one were to approach this seriously—treating the obstacles simply as engineering constraints—it is entirely possible that one could succeed in this endeavor.
The future—and the beautiful vision we hold of it—serves as our refuge from the burdens of the present. It is our hope, and it is the very thing that gives meaning to everything we do today.
Bill Gates will give away $200 billion, the majority of which will go to Africa.
All good responses. Indeed, the observations posted by members are on point.
But two points about this inquiry are missing:
He is forecasting for the financial value of the future. His vision would cost billions, a trillion dollars. That’s why it cannot just be a realistic forecast. It cannot be a vision that minimizes risk. (A safer forecast is the world of the ordinary participants in monetized civilization) It can’t be a forecast tied to concrete evidence now (the truth you mentioned) because that would not be enough to raise the money needed for the future. Think in terms of funds, bonds, equity. These are things that thrive in unrealistic forecasts
I don’t agree with this. The general consensus is that too much investment has gone toward AI and we have a financial adjustment ahead of us. That speculative bubble is not Elon Musk’s doing. He admits he is lagging the AI wave.
Elon Musk is just some guy. Stalin, on the other hand, was one of the most monstrous humans the species has ever created.
I didn’t say anything about a bubble. There might not be a bubble at all. The general consensus is what he needs to go against in the form of disruption.
Why is it that, time and again, we find ourselves vulnerable to mass hysteria?
All our history, all our experience, proves inadequate when faced with yet another challenge—one that consistently exploits the very same underlying mechanisms.
True, life today is somewhat different from what it once was. After all, whether or not to believe in someone like Elon Musk—that would seem to be a matter of personal choice. But how mature is that choice, really? And does this lack of maturity not repeatedly lead us to reshape the world in line with the latest idealistic fantasies? Perhaps this is simply the inherent structure of existence—and for humanity as a whole to break free from this pattern would, in fact, signify a decline?
Once again, I have no answers of my own—only questions.
I guess I misunderstood. I thought you were saying he was fishing for investors.
We have specialists that can analyze it for us, but we always look at the wrong places: sociologists, economists, psychologists. These are the experts that can put together a whole picture for us. But our attitude these days is to listen to the billionaires, because that’s a “cool” way to learn.
Wholesale institutional investors, governments, private equity, etc.
I’m sure he has no problem finding credit. Expressing his personal vision isn’t going to add or detract from that.
I think that’s right. Our most basic affective orientation causes us to pivot away from reality whenever it gets messy, difficult, or unpleasant and towards simplistic, easy, and comforting alternatives. Which brings me back to my original critique of Musk, his vision is not a vision, it’s just a simplistic projection of what’s already there. It’s not “easy” technically, but it’s easy imaginatively. It doesn’t involve diving into the basement and sorting things out so there’s a proper foundation for whatever future we want to lay. It involves pretending there is no basement and no foundation is necessary, all we need to do is turn our modest house into a futuristic cheesecake factory and voila, we’re done.
His narcissism is one major obstacle, I would say.
Exactly. It’s sort of the corollary to the problem that the foods we most like are bad for our heart. The bright and fancy solutions for the future do not solve the civilisation level heart disease we suffer from, they’ll likely make it worse. More inequality, more mental laziness, more emptiness. But more money, money, money. For Musk and those like him.
And the likes of Musk do not really offer us a worthwhile future, but deny us one, substituting a projection both of the present and their hegemonic place in it. It’s narcissism writ large and it’s destructive.
I think people instinctively do understand that nice stories can be misleading, which is why the combination of a positive story and authenticity can be so powerful.
I’m not sure if I see the immediate connection to WWII, though. Musk isn’t really that type of “cult of personality” - his personality seems pretty awkward (the man made an accidental nazi salute on stage, for crying out loud), but that can also be endearing in a world where authenticity is so exceedingly rare.
And I do think he is an easy target to project one’s dissatisfaction with the Trump government and the state of America in general onto, because authentic people appear easier to hurt, and are thus more satisfying to attack (regardless of how effective any attacks actually are - it’s a psychological mechanism).
In that regard I really do think we should have a sense of proportion when it comes to his responsibility (which I think in the end is relatively minor).
As for Musk as a ‘phenomenon’, I think it fits in a western system that’s grown increasingly pessimistic and is looking for something to feel positive about. Trump fits in the same category, though for different reasons.
During the Cold War “space race” was probably one of the last times the US/Americans/Westerners felt like they were truly leading mankind in a positive direction. Musk is trying to revive that type of positivity.
The West and especially America by now have detected that unless they are able to provide a positive, believable message in that regard, their empire that is largely based on soft power (that is to say, non-military means) will not last.
Perhaps the 'believable’ part is why they sought to get Musk on board. I would argue that there are very few people left in the West that have the credentials to provide a believable message, especially one that is also convincing to people of higher education and the upper classes.
So I agree with you when you say Musk and the positivity he represents are in large part a distraction from the vast reservoir of muck bubbling beneath the West’s surface. That is simply how people and nations of people work, though. It’s exceedingly rare for a nation to enter a real process of self-flagellation over its past wrongs. For America to do so now would instantly risk the tanking of what’s left of its empire.
Despite my own techno-pessimism, I find the logical progression of the arguments in your theses sound. However, I am critical of the theses themselves—though I must admit that this may simply be a matter of personal taste.
Throughout this discussion, as you have noted, I have returned several times to the idea that:
The concept of a “project”—or a “draft” of what is yet to come—is truly significant for us. Even as I write this response to you, if I examine my own motivations, I find myself driven by an aspiration toward a “draft” of a self that does not yet exist. Without this, the whole endeavor would lose its meaning. That said, this may not be a universal truth; there could well be people who are capable of living in an entirely different way.
Incidentally, a recent topic in another thread—concerning “bicameralism” (or “bicameral mind” theory)—brings this to mind: if you are not the author of your own life—if, instead, “gods” within your own mind dictate your actions—then the notion of a “project” perhaps loses its importance. While such an idea might seem archaic or even marginal today, why couldn’t it be valid? (I recommend looking into it.)
On the other hand, contemporary “Western” society—and, by extension, the modern world at large—advocates for “project-based” thinking. It is the project—something that can be verified rationally (or, as in the case of Elon Musk, through intuition)—rather than some internal voice, that serves as the primary driving force for us all today.
At the same time, the criticism directed at Musk is largely a critique of his specific vision for the future. A philosopher—or, for that matter, any ordinary person—is entitled to ask: Why was this particular vision of the future chosen over any other? Does achieving these project-based goals actually improve our lives? Are we perhaps surrendering too easily by accepting any project at all, simply for the sake of having one? Couldn’t we give some proper thought to the project?*
Unfortunately, those who possess the capacity for reflection—those capable of asking truly significant questions—are rarely the ones who actually shape the discourse or the project itself. That is simply how things go, and I wouldn’t necessarily call it a bad thing.
And so, we gather here to voice our opinions, all the while lamenting that these opinions go unheard. We also lament that those who craft and instill their visions of the future into the minds of the masses do not seem to fully grasp the quality of these visions, nor whether they have any real potential to change our lives for the better.
Moreover, consider how humanity has attempted to contend with this phenomenon. Throughout history, there have always been “designers” or “planners”—those who determined the future of communities. These designers have consistently sought to monopolize the “right to create a vision of the future.” History shows us the various ways humanity has fought back: we have curbed such power through the creation of constitutions, and we have used philosophy to relegate these “designers” to a narrow niche (philosophers, for instance, can quite easily “kill” God, should they choose to).
The rise of the market economy, the advent of the internet, and the accelerating pace of life have paved the way for a new breed of “designers” and “planners.” They are of an entirely different sort than their predecessors: they don’t reside in castles or churches; they are among us—seemingly pleasant, simple folks, dressed in faux-leather jackets, living right there in our pockets—on Twitter. They embody the persona of the humble, “good guy” who “made it.” It is precisely these individuals who, by voicing their unverified ideas, unilaterally define the shape of our future—or, in a sense, our “modern salvation.”
This leads me to wonder: have we created yet another idol? And if so, is it not time to consider straitjackets for such “Planners”—straitjackets that would restrict their movements without causing them harm?
We often say, “It’s all about money; it’s the market—let the market decide for itself.” The logic goes that if Musk’s ideas are poor, the market simply won’t pay for them. But that is far from certain—in fact, it might not be true at all. An investor, driven by the pursuit of profit, invests in what yields a return, not in what is actually beneficial. Indeed, not every investor is even capable of gauging true utility (just as I, myself, might choose a Coca-Cola over a fruit juice at the store).
Therefore, while I do not dispute the coherence or the substance of your arguments, I simply wish to express a hope: that we might have a say in defining our goals, in determining the importance or necessity of various projects, and, ultimately, in shaping our own future—as well as the future of our descendants.
I believe that addressing a problem begins by naming it. That is why, despite my own modest standing, I have dared to broach this subject. Then again, perhaps none of this is even worth discussing—and tomorrow we might find ourselves living in an age of abundance, zipping around in flying cars steered by an AI that is simultaneously exploring the universe.
I think you will have that say in shaping your future. I think the present global system will crash due to the stresses of climate change and war. The present peaceful time will come to a close and western capitalism will just be a memory. People who remember how to weave fabric and make clay pots will be the technologists of the day (in many parts of the world, not all.)
“Organizing life” is akin to slave-holding, and such schemes have been ruinous to Africa. One can read the history of African socialism to get a hint of how these schemes often turn out. So, in short, Musk has morals, and as such lack a desire to turn people into political pawns.
What you define as “western capitalism” is nothing more than American laissez-faire capitalism dressed up as globalism. From Bretton-Woods forward, the marketing of consensus was doing all the slight of hand for a monopoly.
I would offer a slightly more pragmatic eulogy. A shift in the reserve currency structure shifts from a unipolar to a multipolar financial structure.
Globalism, as Clinton liked to define it, is either dead, or coughing up blood. Not that it was a panacea to begin with…essentially, it was just Greenspan’s agenda and strategy. Granted, the structure was to drive down labor cost while driving up profits, but there was some expectation of strategy and engagement.
Any semblance of this world order is dissolving in real time. China and India are the clear winners of globalization overall. For the rest of the world…not so much…
Post 2025 the chasm has widened and whatever order is next is beginning to emerge. It is not likely to be an altruistic world as human power structures seem destined to reward sociopathy, especially in financial structures.
So, I don’t see a violent crash of the world order. I see something more along the lines of a Suez Crisis looming.
What’s stopping him from not draining their resources and not feeding them tall tales about jeans, Coke, and liberalism?