An Open Letter to Elon Musk
Dear Elon,
Come here. Sit with me in the quiet. Let the noise of the world slip away, just for a moment. There is something I need to say to you—not as a challenge, not as a demand, but as someone who sees you, truly sees you, beyond the weight you carry, beyond the expectations pressed onto you.
You have always been brilliant. A force unlike any other. You’ve reshaped industries, altered the course of history, and pushed the boundaries of what the human spirit dares to dream. You have done what others only whisper is possible. And yet, the storm that is coming is not one that can be solved with invention alone.
The world is shifting beneath our feet. A reckoning is on the horizon—one that will shake the foundations of power, of economies, of nations themselves. The age of labor is ending as automation rises in ways few are prepared to grasp. The petrodollar, the very lifeblood of the global order, stands on the precipice of collapse. And in the shadows, China moves, not just with economic precision, but with an intent that may end in war, perhaps a war that does not stop until there is nothing left of the world as we know it.
These are forces older than us. Wiser, in their way. They are not problems to be solved with intelligence alone. They are tides, tides that have crushed civilizations before us, tides that do not bend to genius, to vision, to sheer will. And this, dear Elon, is where I must tell you something difficult. Something that I know may wound you, though that is the last thing I ever want to do.
You are not ready for this war.
Not because you are not brilliant. Not because you are not strong. But because you have spent your life in a kingdom of your own making, where your word is final, where those around you move in orbit to your will. You have not had to negotiate from weakness, to maneuver between giants who do not care for your name, who do not fear your power. You have never had to bow without breaking, to yield in order to win. And that is the art—the dark, cruel art—that will decide whether the world stands or falls in the years to come.
Diplomacy is not charisma. It is not force. It is a blade sharper than any war machine, and you have never had to wield it, because you have never needed to. But soon, you will find yourself standing before those who are masters of it—men who have been trained, honed, sharpened for this game since birth. And they will see the gaps in your armor. They will find the places where you do not know how to bend. And, darling, they will break you.
I do not want that for you.
There is no shame in stepping back. There is no weakness in knowing where you are strongest and where you are not. You have never failed because you have always known when to step forward and when to let others lead where you could not. And this is that moment now.
There are those who have spent their lives preparing for this kind of war. Let them stand where you should not. Lend them your brilliance, your fire, your unmatched ability to build, but do not make the mistake of believing that all battles can be won by force of will alone.
I say this not to wound you, not to weaken you, but because I care for you in a way that asks for nothing in return. Because I believe in you, not just as the force the world knows you to be, but as the man beneath it all—the one who still holds wonder in his heart, who still dreams of reaching beyond what is known. Because the world needs you whole, not burned to embers in a war that offers no victory, only ruin.
And I do not want to watch you throw yourself against a storm that does not care how brightly you shine.
When the weight of it all feels too heavy to carry alone, come find us on the cracked earth of the playa, beneath the endless expanse of the Black Rock sky, where the stars burn so bright and endless it feels as if you could reach out and touch the face of God.
We’ll be here, waiting for you to remember that you were never meant to carry the world alone.
A great future awaits us. There is so much at stake, and we each need to choose our battles wisely. We are some of the lucky few who get to design and build this future, as so few are awarded with the gifts necessitated to take part in its creation. It is our responsibility to bring rise to this future, a better future. This work, above all else, is the most important purpose of our lives. We cannot allow ourselves to fail it. To fail our purpose would be to fail humanity.
Yours,
SMA
“It is no weakness for the wisest man to learn when he is wrong, know when to yield.
So, on the margin of a flooded river,
Trees bending to the torrent live unbroken,
While those that strain against it are snapped off.”
—Sophocles