Twenty Four Hours
The gradual normalization of Elon Musk's unprecedented power concentration reveals a dangerous erosion of democratic norms. We must confront this reality to preserve our constitutional order.
There are twenty-four hours in a day. This isn't a matter of political opinion or technological disruption—it's as immutable as the fact that two plus two equals four. No amount of genius, innovation, or reality distortion can create a twenty-fifth hour. This basic truth, so obvious it seems almost foolish to state, exposes something profound about our current constitutional crisis.
Consider what we're being asked to believe about Elon Musk. That he is simultaneously managing Tesla, a global automotive manufacturer facing fierce competition and complex production challenges. That he is overseeing SpaceX, a company conducting human spaceflight and handling critical national security contracts. That he is running X/Twitter through a tumultuous transformation affecting global discourse. That he is developing experimental brain implants at Neuralink under federal investigation. That he is competing in the most sophisticated artificial intelligence race in human history through xAI.
And now, through the Department of Government Efficiency (DOGE), we're asked to believe he is also reorganizing the entire federal government. His twenty-something operatives are gaining unprecedented access to Treasury payment systems. Career civil servants are being purged for following security protocols. Congressionally established agencies are being illegally shuttered.
This isn't just implausible—it's physically impossible. Each of these companies requires intensive, full-time executive attention. Tesla alone, with its global manufacturing operations and fierce competition in the rapidly evolving electric vehicle market, would fully occupy any normal CEO. SpaceX, dealing with literal rocket science and human lives, demands constant high-level oversight. Yet we've collectively suspended our disbelief, accepting an obvious fiction because we've been conditioned to believe in the mythology of the tech genius who transcends normal human limitations.
Let's be clear about what's happening while we debate the impossible fiction of Musk's supposed role: A coup is in progress in the United States of America. This isn't hyperbole or partisan rhetoric—it's as demonstrable as the fact that there are twenty-four hours in a day or that two plus two equals four. Private citizens have seized control of Treasury payment systems. Security officials are being removed for following classification protocols. Congressionally established agencies are being illegally shuttered.
The obvious impossibility of Musk's supposed management of multiple companies serves the same purpose as Trump's flood of disinformation—it creates an epistemic fog that makes reality harder to grasp. While we argue about whether Musk is really running all these companies effectively, while we debate sophisticated legal theories about executive authority, while we parse complex arguments about government efficiency, the machinery of constitutional governance is being systematically dismantled.
We're drowning in plausible-sounding legal fictions about presidential authority and emergency powers, in complex theories about executive discretion and administrative law. But these sophisticated arguments serve to obscure basic truths that any first-year law student would understand: The president cannot legally shut down agencies established by congressional statute. Private citizens cannot legally access classified systems without authorization. Civil servants cannot legally be punished for following the law.
The fog of manufactured complexity hides something much simpler and more dangerous: Musk, a man who appears to view the United States government as merely another acquisition target for his interplanetary ambitions, is participating in the dismantling of constitutional governance. While we're distracted by his tweets and his technological promises, while we debate his management style and his vision for efficiency, he's helping to convert democratic institutions into instruments of private power.
Tesla revolutionized the electric vehicle industry. SpaceX transformed space flight. These are real achievements that deserve recognition. Musk's role in building these companies demonstrates genuine entrepreneurial talent and vision. Acknowledging this isn't at odds with questioning the current reality—in fact, understanding the true complexity of these companies strengthens the argument about physical impossibility.
Consider Tesla: It's now a global automotive manufacturer producing millions of vehicles annually. The complexity of its operations—from manufacturing to supply chain to regulatory compliance—requires intense executive attention. Anyone familiar with automotive manufacturing knows that CEO involvement in production and quality decisions isn't optional. The same holds true for SpaceX, where human lives literally depend on rigorous oversight and engineering decisions.
This is precisely why the current situation strains credibility. These aren't small startups anymore—they're sophisticated enterprises operating in highly regulated industries with critical safety requirements. Each company has grown to a scale where effective executive oversight would demand full-time attention. The more successful these companies become, the more implausible it becomes that a single individual could meaningfully run all of them while simultaneously reorganizing the federal government.
Yet society has failed to update its narrative as these companies grew. We're still operating with a mental model from when these were scrappy startups, even as they've evolved into complex global enterprises. Our collective failure to acknowledge this evolution—to ask basic questions about the plausibility of simultaneous executive oversight—has enabled the current constitutional crisis.
The conflict-of-interest at the heart of Musk's position as DOGE co-director represents more than just an ethical concern—it strikes at basic principles of constitutional governance. Federal conflict-of-interest laws weren't created arbitrarily; they emerged from centuries of understanding about how democracy can be corrupted when private interests capture public authority. These laws establish bright lines between public service and private gain precisely because such separation is essential for maintaining democratic accountability.
Consider how this plays out across Musk's various roles. As DOGE co-director, he has significant authority over federal contracting and procurement. Yet he simultaneously controls SpaceX, which receives billions in government contracts for national security launches. This means he's effectively sitting on both sides of the negotiating table—representing both the public interest in efficient contracting and his private interest in maximizing profit. This isn't just inappropriate; it's explicitly prohibited by federal law.
The conflict becomes even more profound when we examine his control of X/Twitter while serving as a government official. A platform that plays a crucial role in public discourse is now effectively under government control through Musk's dual position. We've already seen how this creates direct First Amendment violations—when Musk uses the platform to censor discussion of government employees, he's acting simultaneously as platform owner and government censor. This is precisely the kind of merger of private and public power that constitutional safeguards were designed to prevent.
Tesla presents another stark example of illegal conflict. As a federal official with broad authority over government efficiency and procurement, Musk oversees policies that directly affect the electric vehicle industry. Yet he simultaneously runs the largest electric vehicle manufacturer in America. This means his official actions—whether about environmental regulations, government fleet purchases, or infrastructure decisions—inevitably affect his private interests. Federal law prohibits this arrangement because it makes it impossible to determine whether decisions are being made for public benefit or private gain.
The foundational law here is 18 U.S.C. § 208—Acts affecting a personal financial interest. This criminal statute prohibits federal employees from participating in matters that affect their financial interests. The law is crystal clear: A federal employee cannot participate in any “particular matter” that affects their financial interest or the interests of their companies. Every time Musk makes decisions about government efficiency or procurement while controlling Tesla, SpaceX, or his other companies, he's potentially violating this criminal statute.
The Ethics in Government Act builds on this, requiring extensive financial disclosure and establishing specific restrictions on how federal officials can interact with matters affecting their private interests. The Act was passed after Watergate precisely to prevent the kind of private-public power merger we're witnessing.
Then there's the STOCK Act of 2012, which explicitly prohibits federal officials from using nonpublic information gained through their position for private profit. Given Musk's role in DOGE gives him unprecedented access to government information while he runs multiple public companies, this law becomes particularly relevant.
The Hatch Act also comes into play regarding his control of X/Twitter while serving as a government official. When he uses the platform to censor speech about government employees or promote particular political interests, he's potentially violating restrictions on federal employees using their position to influence political discourse.
These aren't obscure regulations—they're fundamental safeguards designed to maintain the separation between public authority and private interest that democratic governance requires. Just as there are twenty-four hours in a day, these laws mean what they say: You cannot simultaneously serve as a federal official and maintain control over companies directly affected by your official actions.
Through DOGE, Musk has gained access to incredibly sensitive government systems and information—including Treasury payment systems, classified materials, and internal agency data. This means every conflict-of-interest statute is triggered at its highest level of concern. Here's why:
When Congress passed 18 U.S.C. § 208, they were imagining scenarios where federal officials might have access to some information that could affect their private interests. But Musk's situation goes far beyond anything the drafters likely contemplated—he has gained access to the actual machinery of government while simultaneously running multiple companies directly affected by that machinery.
Consider what this means in practice: Through DOGE, he has access to sensitive Treasury data while running public companies whose stock prices could be affected by that information. He can see classified materials while controlling SpaceX, which competes for national security contracts. He has visibility into federal agency operations while owning a social media platform that shapes public discourse about those agencies.
The Ethics in Government Act and STOCK Act were designed to prevent federal officials from using nonpublic information for private gain. But Musk isn't just getting occasional access to sensitive information—he's gained unprecedented access to core government systems while maintaining control of companies worth hundreds of billions of dollars. The potential for using this access to benefit his private interests isn't incidental—it's systematic and structural.
This is why the normal remedies for conflicts of interest—like recusal from specific decisions—become inadequate. When someone has this level of access to government systems while controlling major companies affected by those systems, the conflict can't be managed through traditional means. The only solution consistent with federal law would be complete divestment from his private interests or resignation from his government role.
We're watching the illegal seizure of government power by private interests in real time. Full stop. There's no complex legal theory that makes this okay. No presidential waiver or executive order can override these fundamental conflict-of-interest laws any more than they can make two plus two equal five.
When a private citizen gains control of Treasury payment systems, accesses classified information without proper clearance, maintains control of major companies while serving as a federal official, uses a private platform for government censorship while simultaneously claiming to run multiple massive corporations—what we're actually talking about is the systematic dismantling of the barriers between private power and public authority. This isn't about government efficiency or reform— it's about converting public institutions into instruments of private power.
Trump's constitutional duty to “take Care that the Laws be faithfully executed” means exactly what it says. He can't waive fundamental conflict-of-interest laws any more than he can waive laws against murder or theft. These aren't optional guidelines—they're basic safeguards against corruption of public office for private gain. Congress passed these laws. Former presidents signed them into law. We are a nation of laws. Not men.
This point cuts to the heart of constitutional government. When Congress passes laws and presidents sign them, those laws bind all future presidents—that's what separates a constitutional republic from autocracy. The conflict-of-interest statutes aren't suggestions or guidelines that can be waived away by presidential preference. They represent the accumulated wisdom of democratic governance, enacted through proper constitutional process.
Consider the profound implications: If a president could simply ignore conflict-of-interest laws because they find them inconvenient, then no law passed by Congress would have real meaning. The entire system of checks and balances, the very concept of constitutional constraints on power, would collapse. If Trump can waive these fundamental safeguards for Musk, what prevents him from waiving any other law that stands in the way of private interests capturing public power?
This connects back to our core theme about mathematical truth: Just as two plus two equals four regardless of who's doing the calculation, laws mean what they say regardless of who occupies the White House. When Congress prohibits federal officials from participating in matters affecting their private interests, that prohibition doesn't become optional because a president finds it inefficient or because a tech billionaire claims to be improving government.
The phrase “a nation of laws, not men” isn't just a slogan—it's the fundamental principle that separates constitutional governance from personal rule. Every time we pretend these conflict-of-interest laws can be ignored or waived, we're not just enabling specific corruption—we're attacking the very concept of constitutional government itself.
The reality is brutally simple: What's happening is illegal. Not in some technical, debatable way, but in the same way that two plus two equals four. We're watching private interests seize control of government functions while pretending the laws designed to prevent exactly this don't exist or don't apply.
The Wall Street Journal's reporting on Musk's extensive ketamine use isn't just celebrity gossip—it raises profound questions about judgment and stability. Consider what it means that someone actively using psychedelics is simultaneously claiming to run multiple major companies AND has gained unprecedented access to government systems including Treasury payments. This isn't about personal choices —it's about basic fitness for responsibilities that affect millions of Americans' lives.
The “Pedo Guy” case reveals something equally troubling about character. When Musk baselessly accused a cave rescue diver of being a pedophile, he demonstrated a pattern that we see playing out now in government: Using his platform to attack critics while claiming his words shouldn't be taken seriously. The same person who called a rescue hero a “pedo guy” now declares USAID a “criminal organization” that should “die” while his operatives gain access to classified systems.
These aren't separate issues from the constitutional crisis—they're directly relevant to understanding the danger. We have someone who regularly uses drugs, has a documented pattern of reckless accusations, shows contempt for truth and professional reputation, claims impossible levels of executive oversight, has gained unprecedented access to government functions.
And this same person is now, through DOGE, participating in the systematic dismantling of civil service protections while maintaining control of companies directly affected by his government role.
Musk's troubling connections to China add yet another layer of concern to an already alarming situation. His consistent praise of the Chinese Communist Party, including writing an op-ed in a party mouthpiece celebrating their anniversary, stands in stark contrast to his criticisms of other countries and leaders. This discrepancy becomes even more troubling when we consider China's status as America's primary geopolitical adversary.
Consider the implications: We have an individual with unprecedented access to sensitive government systems and information, who simultaneously controls companies crucial to American technological competitiveness and national security, and who has shown a consistent pattern of praising an authoritarian regime that represents our most significant strategic challenge. This isn't just a potential conflict of interest—it's a national security nightmare.
Let's be clear about what we're seeing: Musk has extensive business interests in China, including a major Tesla factory in Shanghai. He has consistently praised Chinese efficiency and governmental approach, often in ways that seem to criticize American democratic processes. He has refrained from criticizing China's human rights abuses or authoritarian practices, in stark contrast to his willingness to attack other governments and leaders. Through his role in DOGE, he now has access to sensitive government information and systems.
The question we must ask is as simple as it is troubling: Is Elon Musk compromised by his connections to China? This isn't partisan speculation—it's a basic national security concern that any responsible government would prioritize.
Imagine if any other federal official with access to classified information and critical government systems showed such consistent praise for an adversarial power while refraining from any criticism. They would be immediately flagged as a security risk. Yet Musk's technological celebrity seems to have insulated him from this basic level of scrutiny.
This situation becomes even more alarming when we consider the nature of the Chinese government's approach to business. The CCP maintains significant control and influence over private enterprises operating in China. Musk's extensive praise and business ties raise serious questions about what compromises or agreements he might have made to maintain his access to the Chinese market.
Moreover, Musk's role in critical industries like electric vehicles, space technology, and artificial intelligence makes his Chinese connections even more concerning. These are areas of intense technological competition between the U.S. and China, with significant national security implications. The idea that someone with such extensive Chinese business ties and who has shown such consistent praise for the CCP now has unprecedented access to U.S. government systems should set off every possible alarm bell.
This isn't about xenophobia or unnecessary paranoia. It's about applying the same basic security standards and concerns that would apply to any federal official or contractor. The fact that these questions aren't being loudly and persistently asked by every major media outlet and government oversight body is a testament to how thoroughly Musk's carefully cultivated image has distorted our collective judgment.
When we add this Chinese connection to everything else we've discussed—the impossibility of his claimed roles, his messianic complex, his substance use, his erratic behavior, his blatant conflicts of interest—the picture becomes even more disturbing. We're not just dealing with a domestic threat to democratic norms and institutions. We're potentially looking at a significant national security vulnerability, created by giving unprecedented government access to someone with clear and troubling foreign entanglements.
The simple truth—as undeniable as the fact that two plus two equals four—is that Musk's praise of China and his refusal to criticize their authoritarian practices, combined with his extensive business interests there and his new role in the U.S. government, represent a clear and present danger to American national security interests. This isn't a partisan issue. It's not about whether you like Musk's companies or agree with his vision. It's about recognizing a basic, glaring security risk that's hiding in plain sight.
We must demand answers and accountability. How can someone with such clear ties to and praise for an adversarial power be given access to sensitive government systems? What safeguards, if any, are in place to prevent the transfer of sensitive information? How can we trust that decisions made through DOGE are in America's best interests rather than serving Musk's extensive Chinese business interests?
Musk's messianic complex adds another troubling dimension to this already alarming situation. His frequent pronouncements about “saving humanity” through Mars colonization, his claims of being humanity's best hope against AI risks, and his self-portrayal as a visionary leader fighting entrenched interests all point to a deeply held belief in his own exceptional importance. This isn't just ego—it's a worldview that sees Musk as uniquely qualified and perhaps destined to reshape human civilization. This should be an alarming observation to any reasonable observer.
This messianic self-image becomes particularly dangerous when combined with the unprecedented power and access he's gained. Consider the implications: We have an individual who believes he alone can save humanity, who dismisses expert consensus across multiple fields, who shows contempt for democratic processes and institutions—and this same person now has direct access to core government functions and classified information.
The pattern is clear: Musk consistently prioritizes his vision and interests over democratic norms, expert consensus, or legal constraints. His treatment of workers' rights at Tesla, his dismissal of COVID-19 public health measures, his capricious management of Twitter/X—all demonstrate a willingness to bulldoze opposition and ignore rules that don't suit his goals.
When we add this messianic complex to the impossibility of his claimed roles, his documented substance use, his pattern of reckless behavior, and his blatant conflicts of interest, a disturbing picture emerges. If two plus two equals four—and it does—then we must confront an uncomfortable truth: Elon Musk is an incredibly dangerous man whose interests are clearly his own, and the rest of us are just along for the ride.
This isn't about partisan politics or debates over specific policies. It's about recognizing that we've allowed an individual with clear megalomaniacal tendencies to gain unprecedented power over both private industry and public governance. His DOGE role isn't about improving government efficiency—it's about reshaping American governance to suit his personal vision and interests.
The danger here goes beyond specific policy decisions or even potential corruption. What we're witnessing is an attempt to fundamentally alter the relationship between private power and public authority in American society. Musk's actions, supported by the current administration, represent a direct assault on the very concept of democratic accountability.
We must stop pretending that this is normal or acceptable. No amount of technological innovation or promises of efficiency can justify the dismantling of democratic safeguards. Musk's messianic complex, combined with his actual power and influence, creates a volatile situation that threatens the very foundations of constitutional governance.
The simple truth—as undeniable as the fact that there are 24 hours in a day—is that we are watching a man who believes himself to be humanity's savior actively participate in the erosion of democratic institutions. His interests are not aligned with preserving constitutional checks and balances or maintaining the rule of law. They are aligned with consolidating his own power and advancing his personal vision, regardless of democratic consent or legal constraints.
This is the reality. Not the carefully cultivated image of a quirky genius, not the promises of technological utopia, but the actions of a man who has repeatedly demonstrated his willingness to flout rules, dismiss expertise, and prioritize his interests over democratic norms. When such a person gains unprecedented access to government power while maintaining control over vast private enterprises, the threat to democracy is not theoretical—it is immediate and existential.
Musk's threats to weaponize his vast wealth add a chilling new dimension to the dangers we've been discussing. This isn't just about normal political donations or advocacy—it's a direct attempt to leverage immense financial power to shape legislative behavior and policy outcomes. By threatening to primary lawmakers who don't support Trump's agenda, Musk is effectively trying to undermine the constitutional role of Congress as an independent branch of government. This pressure could lead to legislators prioritizing Musk's (and Trump's) interests over their constituents' needs or their own judgment.
What we're witnessing is an unprecedented concentration of power in the hands of a private citizen. Musk's government role, his control over major companies, his media influence through X, and now his explicit threats to use his wealth to shape political outcomes—all of these factors combine to create a perfect storm of anti-democratic forces. The conflicts of interest we discussed earlier become even more problematic in this light. Musk isn't just passively benefiting from his government role; he's actively using his wealth to shape the political landscape in ways that could benefit his companies and ideological goals.
The idea of a “naughty list” for lawmakers based on their votes is a direct assault on the principles of representative democracy. It suggests a system where loyalty to Musk and Trump trumps legislative independence and constituent representation. This approach, if successful, could fundamentally alter how American democracy functions, creating a system where wealthy individuals can effectively dictate policy through threats of primary challenges.
We must also consider the national security implications. Given Musk's connections to China that we discussed earlier, his ability to potentially shape Congress through financial threats raises additional concerns. Could this influence be used to shape policies in ways that benefit China or other foreign interests?
What's particularly troubling is how traditional checks on this kind of influence—like campaign finance laws or conflict of interest regulations—seem inadequate to address the scale and nature of Musk's involvement. By framing this as normal political involvement, Musk and his allies are attempting to normalize what is essentially autocratic behavior within a democratic system.
This development reinforces our earlier points about the danger Musk poses to democratic institutions. It's not just about his government role or his companies—it's about his apparent willingness to use every lever of power at his disposal to reshape American governance according to his vision. The combination of his messianic complex, his vast wealth, his media control, his government access, and now these explicit threats to use his resources to punish political opponents creates a situation that our democratic systems were not designed to handle.
Elon Musk, now wielding unprecedented influence within the federal government, is simultaneously threatening his business competitors. This isn't just about market competition anymore—it's about the potential abuse of government power to tilt the playing field in favor of Musk's interests.
The Equal Protection Clause of the Fourteenth Amendment isn't just about individual rights—it's a fundamental guarantee that the government will treat all persons and entities equally under the law. When someone with Musk's level of government access and influence starts making threats against competitors, we have to ask: Are we still operating in a system where all companies have equal protection and opportunity under the law?
Consider the implications: Musk's xAI is competing directly with OpenAI and other AI companies. Now, through his role in DOGE and his close relationship with the Trump administration, Musk has potential influence over regulatory decisions, government contracts, and even law enforcement priorities. The threat this poses to fair competition cannot be overstated.
This situation goes beyond normal concerns about monopoly power or unfair business practices. We're looking at the potential for government power to be wielded as a weapon in private business disputes. Suppose Musk can use his government influence to disadvantage competitors like OpenAI. In that case, we're no longer operating in a free market system—we're edging into a form of state capitalism where political connections determine business success.
The ethical questions surrounding Sam Altman and OpenAI, while important, pale in comparison to the systemic threat posed by Musk's concentration of power. We're not just talking about one company's practices anymore—we're talking about the fundamental rules of the game for our entire economic system.
This brings us back to our core theme: If two plus two equals four, then we must acknowledge that Musk's position represents a clear and present danger not just to democratic governance, but to the very foundations of our market economy. The combination of his government role, his vast personal wealth, his media control, and now his threats against competitors creates a situation where the lines between public power and private interest have been dangerously blurred.
We must ask ourselves: In a world where Elon Musk can threaten competitors while simultaneously shaping government policy, can we still claim to have a system of equal protection under the law? Can we still pretend to have a free and fair market? Or are we witnessing the emergence of a new form of oligarchy, where a select few wield both economic and political power to reshape society according to their personal vision?
This isn't just about Musk or any single company. It's about preserving the basic principles of fair competition, equal protection, and the separation of economic and political power that underpin our entire system. If we fail to address this concentration of power, we risk fundamentally altering the nature of both our democracy and our economy.
We have indeed boiled the frog with Elon Musk. The gradual accumulation of power, the steady erosion of norms, the incremental breaches of law and ethics—all of these have happened so slowly that we've failed to recognize the danger until we're already immersed in crisis. The most alarming aspect of this situation isn't just the actions of Musk or the complicity of the administration, but our collective failure to be shocked by what's happening.
Every point raised in this essay is factual, easily verifiable, and largely undisputed. Most informed observers would agree that this is an accurate accounting of Musk's roles, actions, and the conflicts they create. Yet somehow, we've arrived at a place where these glaring violations of law, ethics, and democratic norms are met with a collective shrug.
This is the true danger we face: We've been conditioned to accept the unacceptable, to normalize the abnormal, to rationalize the irrational. We've been slowly convinced that two plus two might equal five if a powerful enough person says it does, if it's wrapped in promises of innovation and efficiency, if it's justified by claims of necessity or genius.
But here's the undeniable truth: Two plus two equals four. It always has, and it always will. No amount of technological prowess, financial power, or political maneuvering can change this fundamental reality. And just as surely as this mathematical truth holds, so too do the laws that govern conflicts of interest, the principles that separate public authority from private gain, and the constitutional safeguards that protect our democracy.
Saving our democracy—indeed, preserving the very foundations of our republic—requires us to recognize and reassert these basic truths. We must shake off the cognitive dissonance that allows us to simultaneously acknowledge Musk's accumulation of power and influence while failing to be alarmed by it. We must reject the false choice between innovation and democratic governance, between efficiency and the rule of law.
What we're witnessing isn't just a series of ethical breaches or legal violations—it's an existential threat to the very nature of our democracy and our market economy. If we fail to act now, we risk transitioning from a nation of laws to a nation where power and wealth dictate reality, where the lines between public and private interests blur beyond recognition, and where our most fundamental democratic principles become mere suggestions to be ignored at will.
Will we continue to accept the gradual erosion of our democratic norms and institutions, lulled into complacency by promises of innovation and efficiency? Or will we reassert the basic truths upon which our republic was founded, recognizing that no individual—no matter how wealthy, influential, or ostensibly brilliant—stands above the law or the Constitution?
If we continue to pretend that two plus two might equal five, we may wake to find that we no longer live in a democracy at all, but in an oligarchy cloaked in the language of progress and innovation. The truth is as simple as it is urgent: Two plus two equals four. And there are only twenty four hours in a day.
I wrote similarly in a piece I put out earlier today. You get it.
Great work Mike. Thanks for taking the time to write this. Over here, ‘across the pond’ it all still feels unreal.