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The Tech Oligarchy Arrives

The Atlantic

www.theatlantic.com › politics › archive › 2025 › 01 › tech-zuckerberg-trump-inauguration-oligarchy › 681381

On the day of Donald Trump’s 2017 inauguration, a group of his top billionaire donors, including the casino magnate Miriam Adelson and the future Republican National Committee finance chair Todd Ricketts, hosted a small private party, away from the publicly advertised inaugural balls.

It was the sort of event that carried no interest at the time for the Facebook founder Mark Zuckerberg. He greeted Trump’s first presidency by publicly identifying his wife’s parents and his own ancestors with the immigrants targeted by Trump’s early executive orders. “These issues are personal for me,” Zuckerberg wrote in a public letter of concern a week after Trump took office.

But this month, as the same donors made plans for Trump’s second inauguration, Zuckerberg successfully maneuvered to become a co-host of their black-tie event, scheduled for tonight. The party quickly became one of the most sought-after gatherings of the weekend, overwhelming organizers with RSVPs from people who had not received invitations.

Even more striking: Zuckerberg sat in front of Trump’s incoming Cabinet in the Capitol Rotunda at his inauguration—at the personal invitation of Trump himself, according to two people briefed on the plans who, like some other sources interviewed for this story, requested anonymity to describe private conversations. (A spokesperson for Meta declined to comment.)

[Charlie Warzel: We’re all trying to find the guy who did this]

Zuckerberg was not alone. Trump’s inauguration events featured a Silicon Valley smorgasbord, with leaders from Apple, Google, and TikTok in attendance, as well as Amazon’s Jeff Bezos and Tesla’s Elon Musk. Several of the tech moguls also joined a small prayer service this morning at St. John’s Episcopal Church. Later, they blended in with the Trump clan directly behind the incoming president as he officially assumed power just after noon, like honorary family members.

The scene announced a remarkable new dynamic in Washington: Far more so than in his first term, the ultra-wealthy—and tech billionaires in particular—are embracing Trump. And the new president is happy to entertain their courtship, setting up the possibility that Trump’s second turn in the White House could be shaped by person-to-person transactions with business and tech executives—a new kind of American oligarchy.

Eight years ago, Trump landed in Washington in a fit of defiance, denouncing in his inaugural address “the American carnage” wrought by “a small group in our nation’s capital.” Four years later, he left as an outcast, judged responsible for the U.S. Capitol riot and a haphazard attempt to undo the constitutional order. He returns this week with a clean sweep of swing states and the national popular vote, the loyal support of Republicans in Congress, and the financial backing of corporate donors who are expected to help the inaugural committee raise twice what it did in 2017. Organizers of the Women’s March, which stomped on Trump’s 2017 inauguration by sending hundreds of thousands of protesters to the streets, settled for a series of unremarkable Saturday gatherings. The Democratic opposition, which treated Trump’s first term as an existential threat, now lacks an evident strategy or leader.

Like nearly every entity that has tried and failed to bend Trump to its will—his party, his former rivals, his partners in Congress, and his former aides among them—the tech elites largely seem to have decided that they’re better off seeking Trump’s favor.

[Read: ‘If there’s one person who keeps their word, it’s Donald Trump’]   

Just months ago, Trump released a coffee-table photo book that included a pointed rant about Zuckerberg’s $420 million donation in 2020 to fund local election offices during the coronavirus pandemic, an undertaking that Trump called “a true PLOT AGAINST THE PRESIDENT.” “We are watching him closely,” Trump wrote of Zuckerberg, “and if he does anything illegal this time he will spend the rest of his life in prison.”

But since Trump’s victory, Zuckerberg has worked to get himself in the new president’s good graces. The Meta CEO traveled to Mar-a-Lago; added a Trump pal to his corporate board; extolled the importance of “masculine energy” on Joe Rogan’s podcast; abandoned the Meta fact-checking program, which MAGA world had viewed as biased; and personally worked with Trump to try to resolve a 2021 civil lawsuit over Facebook’s decision to ban him from the platform, a case that legal experts once considered frivolous.

Bezos, meanwhile, worried aloud in 2016 that Trump’s behavior “erodes our democracy around the edges” and spent his first term taking fire from the president for the aggressive reporting of The Washington Post, the newspaper that Bezos owns (and where, until recently, we both were reporters). Now Amazon, like Meta, has given $1 million to the 2025 inaugural committee, and the company recently announced it would release a documentary about, and produced by, the first lady, Melania Trump. Even Musk, who spent more than $250 million last year to elect Trump and now is one of his top advisers, called for the aging Trump to “sail into the sunset” as recently as 2022.

“In the first term, everybody was fighting me,” Trump marveled at a mid-December news conference. “In this term, everybody wants to be my friend.”

The sheer quantity of money flowing to, and surrounding, Trump has increased. In his first term, he assembled the wealthiest Cabinet in history; this time, his would-be Cabinet includes more than a dozen billionaires. Sixteen of his appointees come not just from the top one percent, but from the top one-ten-thousandth percent, according to the Public Citizen, a nonprofit consumer-advocacy organization. Democrats, too, have long kept their wealthiest donors close, inviting them in on policy discussions and providing special access, but never before have the nation’s wealthiest played such a central role in the formation of a new administration.

As recently as last week, before the inauguration proceedings were moved indoors because of cold weather, a donor adviser got a last-minute offer of $500,000 for four tickets, according to the person who fielded the call and had to gently decline the request. Trump’s 2017 committee raised $107 million, more than twice the 2013 record set by Barack Obama, and spent $104 million. So far this year, the 2025 inaugural committee is expected to raise at least $225 million and spend less than $75 million on the inaugural festivities, according to a person familiar with the plans. At least some of the unspent tens of millions could go to Trump’s presidential library, several people involved with fundraising told us.  

Trump’s first inauguration had all the markings of a hastily arranged bachelor party put on someone else’s credit card. Trump’s company and the 2017 inaugural committee ultimately paid $750,000 to the District of Columbia to settle claims of illegal payments, including allegations of inflated charges to a Washington hotel then owned by Trump. (Neither entity admitted wrongdoing.) This time, the inauguration organizers have been more disciplined, and donors have been eager to reward Trump’s victory.  

“People were prepared, so when he did win, Trump was looking for checks,” a person involved in all of the Trump campaigns and both inaugural events told us. “Once Elon got in there, that was kind of the holy water that allowed all the other tech guys to follow. They all followed each other like cattle.”

What wealthy donors could get in return for their support of Trump remains an open question. Zuckerberg’s, Bezos’s, and Musk’s federal business interests include rocket-ship and cloud-computing contracts, a federal investigation of Tesla’s auto-driving technology, a pending Federal Trade Commission lawsuit against Meta, and a separate antitrust case against Amazon. Just last week, the Securities and Exchange Commission sued Musk for allegedly failing to disclose his early stake in Twitter, the social-media giant he later took over and renamed X. (A lawyer for Musk has said he did “nothing wrong.”) When Trump promised in his inaugural address to “plant the Stars and Stripes on the planet Mars,” the cameras panned to Musk, whose SpaceX is racing Bezos’s Blue Origin; Musk raised both thumbs and mouthed “Yeah!” as he broke into an ebullient grin.

[Read: He’s no Elon Musk]

Existing federal ethics rules were not designed to address the possibility of the world’s wealthiest people padding the pockets of the first family through television rights or legal settlements. The Trump family’s recently announced cryptocurrency, $TRUMP, creates yet another way for the wealthy to invest directly in an asset to benefit the commander in chief. “There is no enforcement mechanism against the president under these laws,” Trevor Potter, a former general counsel for the late Arizona Senator John McCain’s campaign, told us.

Even as Silicon Valley elites try to ingratiate themselves with the incoming president, some of Trump’s populist supporters are murmuring that the emerging tech oligarchy is diluting the purity of the MAGA base. Steve Bannon, a former adviser to Trump who has clashed in recent weeks with Musk over immigration policy, has fashioned himself as the field general for a fight against the tech bros and their outsize influence on a president eager to cut deals.

“He’s got them on display as ‘I kicked their ass.’ I’m stunned that these nerds don’t get anything to be up there,” Bannon told us last week, referring to the tech leaders appearing in prime camera position at Trump’s inauguration. “It’s like walking into Teddy Roosevelt’s lodge and seeing the mounted heads of all the big game he shot.”

For now, the ragtag populist figures like Bannon who defined Trump’s early years in politics are still celebrating. Roger Stone, the convicted and subsequently pardoned Trump kibitzer, attended inauguration events in his anachronistic morning suit—with plans for evening white tie. The British MP Nigel Farage hosted a party Friday at the Hay-Adams hotel, while former British Prime Minister Boris Johnson managed to get a ticket for the U.S. Capitol Rotunda.

On Thursday, Bannon threw his own party, titled “Novus Ordo Seclorum,” or “A New Order of the Ages,” at Butterworth’s club on Capitol Hill. Drinks included, perhaps predictably, the Covfefe Martini (vodka, Fernet, espresso) and the Im-Peach This (gin, peach, Cocci Americano). Bannon arrived fashionably late and was followed from the moment he ducked through the door by a mob of iPhone documenters, and even a man with a flashbulb. He received an impromptu line of frenzied well-wishers that one British journalist quipped was “as if for the Queen.”

[Read: The MAGA honeymoon is over]

As seared foie gras and freshly shucked oysters moved through the room, Bannon urged his supporters to “set new lows tonight,” reminding them that once Trump took the oath of office on Monday, “then the real fun happens.”

“You have two to three days to get sober,” he exhorted. “Go for it!”

The tech barons also fanned out through the city in celebration. The next night, across town, Bezos and his fiancée, Lauren Sánchez, dined at Georgetown’s new hot spot, Osteria Mozza, sitting at a window table with leaders of the Post. On Saturday, Palantir and the PayPal co-founder Peter Thiel hosted a party at his Woodley Park mansion; a bow-tied and mop-topped Zuckerberg arrived before the sun had fully set. And yesterday, Trump called Musk up onstage during his pre-inauguration rally inside the Capital One Arena—“C’mere, Elon!” he growled—briefly ceding the spotlight to the Tesla executive and his young son X.

During the 2024 election, many liberals and some conservatives feared that Trump’s second term would usher in a new kind of American autocracy, à la Hungary. But on its first day, at least, Trump’s new administration seems, more than anything else, oligarchal—albeit one where the transactions mainly flow one way, at least so far.

“They’re lining up to obey in advance. because they think they’re buying themselves peace of mind,” Ruth Ben-Ghiat, an expert on authoritarianism who has been critical of Trump, told us. But, added Ben-Ghiat, who noted the overlap between autocracy and oligarchy: “They can give that million and everything can be fine—but the minute they displease Trump, he could come after them.”

Vanguard fined $106 million over 'misleading statements' about retirement funds

Quartz

qz.com › vanguard-sec-fine-target-retirement-funds-trfs-1851742350

Vanguard agreed to pay $106.4 million to the Securities and Exchange Commission Friday to settle charges for “misleading statements” connected to its target retirement funds that resulted in higher taxes for retail investors, the regulator said.

Read more...

The Great Crypto Crash

The Atlantic

www.theatlantic.com › ideas › archive › 2025 › 01 › cryptocurrency-deregulation-future-crash › 681202

“The countdown clock on the next catastrophic crash has already started,” Dennis Kelleher, the president of the nonprofit Better Markets, told me.

In the past few weeks, I have heard that sentiment or similar from economists, traders, Hill staffers, and government officials. The incoming Trump administration has promised to pass crypto-friendly regulations, and is likely to loosen strictures on Wall Street institutions as well.

This will bring an unheralded era of American prosperity, it argues, maintaining the country’s position as the head of the global capital markets and the heart of the global investment ecosystem. “My vision is for an America that dominates the future,” Donald Trump told a bitcoin conference in July. “I’m laying out my plan to ensure that the United States will be the crypto capital of the planet and the bitcoin superpower of the world.”

[Annie Lowrey: The three pillars of the bro-economy]

Financial experts expect something different. First, a boom. A big boom, maybe, with the price of bitcoin, ether, and other cryptocurrencies climbing; financial firms raking in profits; and American investors awash in newfound wealth. Second, a bust. A big bust, maybe, with firms collapsing, the government being called in to steady the markets, and plenty of Americans suffering from foreclosures and bankruptcies.

Having written about bitcoin for more than a decade—and having covered the last financial crisis and its long hangover—I have some sense of what might cause that boom and bust. Crypto assets tend to be exceedingly volatile, much more so than real estate, commodities, stocks, and bonds. Egged on by Washington, more Americans will invest in crypto. Prices will go up as cash floods in. Individuals and institutions will get wiped out when prices drop, as they inevitably will.

The experts I spoke with did not counter that narrative. But if that’s all that happens, they told me, the United States and the world should count themselves lucky. The danger is not just that crypto-friendly regulation will expose millions of Americans to scams and volatility. The danger is that it will lead to an increase in leverage across the whole of the financial system. It will foster opacity, making it harder for investors to determine the riskiness of and assign prices to financial products. And it will do so at the same time as the Trump administration cuts regulations and regulators.

Crypto will become more widespread. And the conventional financial markets will come to look more like the crypto markets—wilder, less transparent, and more unpredictable, with trillion-dollar consequences extending years into the future.

“I have this worry that the next three or four years will look pretty good,” Eswar Prasad, an economist at Cornell and a former International Monetary Fund official, told me. “It’s what comes after, when we have to pick up the pieces from all the speculative frenzies that are going to be generated because of this administration’s actions.”

For years, Washington has “waged a war on crypto and bitcoin like nobody’s ever seen,” Trump told crypto entrepreneurs this summer. “They target your banks. They choke off your financial services … They block ordinary Americans from transferring money to your exchanges. They slander you as criminals.” He added: “That happened to me too, because I said the election was rigged.”

Trump is not wrong that crypto exists in its own parallel financial universe. Many crypto companies cannot or choose not to comply with American financial regulations, making it hard for kitchen-table investors to use their services. (The world’s biggest crypto exchange, Binance, declines even to name which jurisdiction it is based in; it directs American customers to a smallish U.S. offshoot.) Companies such as Morgan Stanley and Wells Fargo tend to offer few, if any, crypto products, and tend to make minimal, if any, investments in crypto and crypto-related businesses. It’s not so much that banks haven’t wanted to get in on the fun. It’s that regulations have prevented them from doing so, and regulators have warned them not to.

This situation has throttled the amount of money flowing into crypto. But the approach has been a wise one: It has prevented firm failures and crazy price swings from destabilizing the traditional financial system. Crypto lost $2 trillion of its $3 trillion in market capitalization in 2022, Kelleher noted. “If you had that big of a financial crash with any other asset, there would have been contagion. But there wasn’t, because you had parallel systems with almost no interconnection.”

Forthcoming regulation will knit the systems together. Granted, nobody knows exactly what laws Congress will pass and Trump will sign. But the Financial Innovation and Technology for the 21st Century Act, or FIT21, which passed the House before dying in the Senate last year, is a good guide. The law was the subject of intense lobbying by crypto advocates with billions on the line and cash to spend, including $170 million on the 2024 election. It amounts to an industry wish list.

FIT21 makes the Commodity Futures Trading Commission, rather than the Securities and Exchange Commission, the regulator of most crypto assets and firms and requires that the CFTC collect far less information from companies on the structure and trading of crypto products than securities firms give the SEC.

[Annie Lowrey: The Black investors who were burned by Bitcoin]

Beyond loose rules, financial experts anticipate loose enforcement. The CFTC predominantly oversees financial products used as hedges by businesses and traded among traders, not ones hawked to individual investors. It has roughly one-fifth the budget of the SEC, and one-seventh the staff. And in general, Washington is expected to loosen the strictures preventing traditional banks from keeping crypto on their books and preventing crypto companies from accessing the country’s financial infrastructure.

According to Prasad, this regime would be a “dream” for crypto.

Trump and his family are personally invested in crypto, and the president-elect has floated the idea of establishing a “strategic” bitcoin reserve, to preempt Chinese influence. (In reality, this would mean deploying billions of dollars of taxpayer money to soak up speculative assets with no strategic benefit to the United States.) How many Republicans will invest in crypto because Trump does? How many young people will pour money into bitcoin because his son Eric says its price is zooming toward $1 million, or because the secretary of commerce says it is the future?

Nothing being considered by Congress or the White House will reduce the inherent risks. Crypto investors will remain vulnerable to hacking, ransomware, and theft. The research group Chainalysis tallied $24.2 billion in illicit transactions in 2023 alone. And if the U.S. government invests in crypto, the incentive for countries such as Iran and North Korea to interfere in the markets would go up exponentially. Imagine China engaging in a 51 percent attack on the bitcoin blockchain, taking it over and controlling each and every transaction. The situation is a security nightmare.

Americans will be exposed to more prosaic scams and rip-offs too. The SEC has brought enforcement actions against dozens of Ponzi schemers, charlatans, and cheats, encompassing both the $32 billion sham-exchange FTX and ticky-tacky coin firms. Nobody expects the CFTC to have the muscle to do the same. And FIT21 leaves loopholes open for all kinds of scuzzy profiteering. A crypto firm might be able to run an exchange, buy and sell assets on its own behalf, and execute orders for clients—legally, at the same time, despite the conflicts of interest.

Simple volatility is the biggest risk for retail investors. Crypto coins, tokens, and currencies are “purely speculative,” Prasad emphasized. “The only thing anchoring the value is investor sentiment.” At least gold has industrial uses. Or, if you’re betting on the price of tulip bulbs, at least you might end up with a flower.

With crypto, you might end up with nothing, or less. A large share of crypto traders borrow money to make bets. When leveraged traders lose money on their investments, their lenders—generally the exchange on which the traders are trading—require them to put up collateral. To do that, investors might have to cash out their 401(k)s. They might have to dump their bitcoin, even in a down market. If they cannot come up with the cash, the firm holding their account might liquidate or seize their assets.

A report released last month by the Office of Financial Research, a government think tank, makes clear just how dangerous this could be: Some low-income households are “using crypto gains to take out new mortgages.” When crypto prices go down, those families’ homes are going to be at risk.

Many individual investors do not seem to understand these perils. The Federal Deposit Insurance Corporation has had to warn the public that it does not protect crypto assets. The Financial Stability Oversight Council has raised the concern that people do not realize that crypto firms are not subject to the same oversight as banks. But if Trump is invested, how bad could it be?

Regulators and economists are not worried primarily about the damage that this new era will do to individual households, however. They are worried about chaos in the crypto markets disrupting the traditional financial system—leading to a collapse in lending and the need for the government to step in, as it did in 2008.

Where Wall Street once saw fool’s gold, it now sees a gold mine. Ray Dalio of Bridgewater called crypto a “bubble” a decade ago; now he thinks it is “one hell of an invention.” Larry Fink of BlackRock previously referred to bitcoin as an “index of money laundering”; today he sees it as a “legitimate financial instrument”—one his firm has already begun offering to clients, if indirectly.

Early in 2024, the SEC began allowing fund managers to sell certain crypto investments. BlackRock launched a bitcoin exchange-traded fund in November; one public retirement fund has already staked its pensioners’ hard-earned cash. Barclays, Citigroup, JPMorgan, and Goldman Sachs are doing crypto deals too. Billions of traditional-finance money is flowing into the decentralized-finance markets, and billions more will as regulators allow.

[Charlie Warzel: Crypto’s legacy is finally clear]

What could go wrong? Nothing, provided that Wall Street firms are properly accounting for the risk of these risky assets. Everything, if they are not.  

Even the sturdiest-seeming instruments are dangerous. Stablecoins, for example, are crypto assets pegged to the dollar: One stablecoin is worth one dollar, making them useful as a medium of exchange, unlike bitcoin and ether. Stablecoin companies generally maintain their peg by holding one dollar’s worth of super-safe assets, such as cash and Treasury bills, for every stablecoin issued.

Supposedly. In the spring of 2022, the widely used stablecoin TerraUSD collapsed, its price falling to just 23 cents. The company had been using an algorithm to keep TerraUSD’s price moored; all it took was enough people pulling their money out for the stablecoin to break the buck. Tether, the world’s most-traded crypto asset, claims to be fully backed by safe deposits. The U.S. government found that it was not, as of 2021; moreover, the Treasury Department is contemplating sanctioning the company behind tether for its role as a cash funnel for the “North Korean nuclear-weapons program, Mexican drug cartels, Russian arms companies, Middle Eastern terrorist groups and Chinese manufacturers of chemicals used to make fentanyl,” The Wall Street Journal has reported. (“To suggest that Tether is somehow involved in aiding criminal actors or sidestepping sanctions is outrageous,” the company responded.)

Were tether or another big stablecoin to falter, financial chaos could instantly spread beyond the crypto markets. Worried investors would dump the stablecoin, instigating “a self-fulfilling panic run,” in the words of three academics who modeled this eventuality. The stablecoin issuer would dump Treasury bills and other safe assets to provide redemptions; the falling price of safe assets would affect thousands of non-crypto firms. The economists put the risk of a run on tether at 2.5 percent as of late 2021—not so stable!

Other catastrophes are easy to imagine: bank failures, exchange collapses, giant Ponzi schemes faltering. Still, the biggest risk with crypto has little to do with crypto at all.

If Congress passes FIT21 or a similar bill, it would invent a novel asset class called “digital commodities”—in essence, any financial asset managed on a decentralized blockchain. Digital commodities would be exempted from SEC oversight, as would “decentralized finance” firms. In the FIT21 bill, any firm or person can self-certify a financial product as a digital commodity, and the SEC would have only 60 days to object.

This is a loophole big enough to fit an investment bank through.

Already, Wall Street is talking up “tokenization,” meaning putting assets on a programmable digital ledger. The putative justification is capital efficiency: Tokenization could make it easier to move money around. Another justification is regulatory arbitrage: Investments on a blockchain would move out of the SEC’s purview, and likely be subject to fewer disclosure, reporting, accounting, tax, consumer-protection, anti-money-laundering, and capital requirements. Risk would build up in the system; the government would have fewer ways to rein firms in.

Crypto regulation could end up undermining the “broader $100 trillion capital markets,” Gary Gensler, the soon-to-be-former head of the SEC and the crypto industry’s enemy No. 1, has argued. “It could encourage noncompliant entities to try to choose what regulatory regimes they wish to be subjected to.”

[Annie Lowrey: When the Bitcoin scammers came for me]

We have seen this movie before, not long ago. In 2000, shortly before leaving office, Bill Clinton signed the Commodity Futures Modernization Act. The law put strictures on derivatives traded on an exchange, but left over-the-counter derivatives unregulated. So Wall Street ginned up trillions of dollars of financial products, many backed by the income streams from home loans, and traded them over the counter. It packaged subprime loans with prime loans, obscuring a given financial instrument’s real risk. Then consumers strained under rising interest rates, crummy wage growth, and climbing unemployment. The mortgage-default rate went up. Home prices fell, first in the Sun Belt and then nationwide. Investors panicked. Nobody even knew what was in all of those credit-default swaps and mortgage-backed securities. Nobody was sure what anything was worth. Uncertainty, opacity, leverage, and mispricing spurred the global financial crisis that caused the Great Recession.

The crypto market today is primed to become the derivatives market of the future. Were Congress and the Trump administration to do nothing—to leave the SEC as crypto’s primary regulator, to require crypto companies to play by the existing rules—the chaos would remain walled off. There’s no sensible justification for digital assets to be treated differently than securities, anyway. By the simple test the government has used for a century, nearly all crypto assets are securities. But Washington is creating loopholes, not laws.

As the crypto boosters like to say, hold on for dear life. “A lot of bankers, they’re dancing in the street,” Jamie Dimon of JPMorgan Chase said at a conference in Peru last year. Maybe they should be. The bankers are never the ones left holding the bag.

Spirit Airlines' worth, Tesla's miss, and drug hikes: Business news roundup

Quartz

qz.com › spirit-airlines-worth-teslas-miss-and-drug-hikes-bus-1851732188

Spirit Airlines, which filed for bankruptcy in November, has given investors a peek into its ongoing reorganization. As part of that process, it filed a financial update with the Securities and Exchange Commission that shows its equity is worth less than the compensation paid to its executives in 2023.

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Bankrupt Spirit Airlines worth less than executives' 2023 pay

Quartz

qz.com › spirit-airlines-financial-update-bankruptcy-1851731202

Spirit Airlines, which filed for bankruptcy in November, has given investors a peek into its ongoing reorganization. As part of that process, it filed a financial update with the Securities and Exchange Commission that shows its equity is worth less than the compensation paid to its executives in 2023.

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