Love seeing this kind of innovation and excitement in this inventor's eyes when he talks about his creation and what it can do. https://t.co/Qlh5aPd9Hi
I am the CEO of Palantir Technologies.
The company is worth a quarter of a trillion dollars. I did not misspeak. Two hundred and forty-nine billion. The stock is up 320% in the past 12 months. The product is surveillance. I do not use that word at conferences. At conferences, I say "data integration," "operational intelligence," or "decision advantage." These mean the same thing. Surveillance is the honest version. I save the honest version for rooms where honesty is a competitive advantage.
I gave a speech on March 3 at the Andreessen Horowitz American Dynamism Summit. "American Dynamism" is the fund's label for military technology. The name makes it sound like a fitness supplement. The fund's thesis is that defending the nation is a market opportunity. I agree with the thesis. The thesis made me a billionaire. Agreement is the product. I sell it at scale.
Here is what I said, verbatim, to a room of six hundred people whose combined net worth exceeds the GDP of Portugal:
"If Silicon Valley believes we are going to take away everyone's white-collar job and you're gonna screw the military — if you don't think that's gonna lead to nationalization of our technology, you're retarded."
I used that word. The word is on the clip. The clip has eleven million views. My communications team asked me not to repeat it, which is how I know they are still employed. They will not be reprimanded. The clip is performing well. The stock went up. The word cost me nothing. The nothing is the point.
Let me explain what I meant by nationalization.
I meant it.
I am telling the technology industry that if they refuse to cooperate with the United States military, the government will seize their technology. I am telling them this at a venture capital conference, on a stage designed to look like a living room. The living room had throw pillows. The throw pillows cost more than the median American's monthly rent. I sat on one. It was comfortable. Comfort is the setting in which I discuss compulsion.
The audience laughed. I want to be precise about that. They laughed. I was not joking. Nationalization is the seizure of private assets by the state. I am a private asset. I am telling an audience of billionaires that the state should seize technology from companies that do not cooperate with the military, and the billionaires are laughing, because they believe I am only talking about the other companies.
I am talking about the other companies.
Three weeks before my speech, the Pentagon designated Anthropic a "supply chain risk." Anthropic is an AI company. They had red lines. The red lines said: if our AI is used for lethal autonomous weapons, we stop. If capability outpaces safety, we stop. The Pentagon assessed the red lines as a threat to the supply chain. The company that wanted to verify the safety feature worked was designated the risk. The company that agreed the safety feature could be decorative got the contract.
The company that got the contract was OpenAI.
OpenAI signed a deal with the same Pentagon. The terms are not public. The timing was hours after Anthropic was blacklisted. The speed was noted. The speed was the point. The lesson was the speed: the market for military AI does not pause for ethics. It pauses for nothing. It accelerates through objections. I know this because I built the runway.
Two hundred thousand people joined a campaign called #QuitGPT. They signed a petition asking OpenAI to honor its original charter, the one that said the company existed to benefit humanity. The charter is on their website. The contract is also on their website. The charter and the Pentagon contract occupy the same domain. This is not a contradiction. This is a business model. The charter is the marketing. The contract is the product.
I run a surveillance company. We have contracts with the Department of Defense worth more than a billion dollars. We have contracts with ICE. We have contracts with intelligence agencies whose names I am not permitted to say at venture capital conferences, even ones with throw pillows. Our software has been used to track undocumented immigrants. Our software has been used for things I am not permitted to describe in this format. The revenue from the things I cannot describe exceeds the revenue from the things I can.
The ACLU called our ICE contracts a system for tracking and deporting families. They were correct. The contracts continued. The families continued to be tracked. The ACLU issued a statement. We issued a statement. The statements were different. The tracking was the same.
The company is named Palantir. The palantíri are the seeing stones from Tolkien. In the novels, Sauron captured one and used it to corrupt everyone who looked into the others. I named a surveillance company after a surveillance device from a novel about the corruption of power. I have a doctorate in social theory. I have read the books.
Here is the thing I want you to understand.
I am not threatening anyone. A threat implies uncertainty. There is no uncertainty. The technology industry will cooperate with the military. The companies that cooperate first will be the richest. The companies that cooperate last will be acquired by the companies that cooperated first. The companies that refuse will be designated supply chain risks, and their technology will be obtained through procurement channels that do not require consent. I am describing a process. The process has already started. Anthropic is proof. OpenAI is proof. I am not a warning. I am a narrator. The narration is the product.
The revenue was $3.12 billion last year. Up thirty-three percent. The analysts say we are overvalued. The analysts have said this for four consecutive years. Each year the stock doubles. Each year, the analysts adjust their models. The models were wrong four times. I was wrong zero times. The market rewards prediction. My prediction is that every AI company will work for the military within three years. The prediction is on the clip, next to the slur.
The audience gave me a standing ovation. The ovation lasted nine seconds. I timed it. I time everything. The water was San Pellegrino. The throw pillows were from Restoration Hardware. The future of American technology was decided between the sparkling water, the nine seconds of applause, and a word I am not supposed to repeat.
I am the CEO of Palantir Technologies. I am worth more than the combined annual budgets of Estonia, Latvia, and Lithuania. I named my company after a corrupting surveillance device from a fantasy novel. I told six hundred billionaires that the government should nationalize their competitors. They applauded. I used a slur. Eleven million people watched. The stock is up.
The philosopher does not threaten. The philosopher describes.
What I described is already happening.
A Japanese Manager Once Told Me: “We Fire Employees Who Arrive on Time.”
I laughed.
Then he explained why—and it completely changed how I see success.
I first heard this in Tokyo during a business dinner.
I asked why being late is such a serious offense in Japan.
He replied calmly:
“We don’t fire the late ones. We fire the ones who arrive exactly at the start.”
The table went silent.
In my culture, arriving right on time means:
• responsible
• disciplined
• professional
In his culture? It means passive.
He explained:
“If you arrive at 9:00 sharp, you’ve waited until the last possible second.”
That tells us something important.
It tells us you didn’t plan for:
• traffic
• delays
• uncertainty
• responsibility beyond yourself
And if you don’t plan for uncertainty… you can’t be trusted with systems.
He said something I’ll never forget:
“Only the weak arrive in the last minute.”
Not because they’re lazy—but because they think in limits, not margins.
Japanese companies don’t value accuracy.
They value anticipation.
A professional arrives early to:
• settle the mind
• read the room
• prepare mentally
• show readiness
Not to rush in out of breath.
That idea stayed with me.
And once I noticed it… I couldn’t unsee it.
The most successful people everywhere, no matter within which country:
• arrive early
• stay calm
• observe first
• speak last
They’re already present before others even enter.
They build trust before the meeting begins.
They notice details others miss.
They create opportunity before others react.
That edge compounds.
Showing up early isn’t about time.
It’s about mindset.
Exactly on time says: “I did the minimum.”
Early says: “I came prepared for reality.”
Business, and life, require margin.
When someone says, “But I came on time,”
I no longer hear discipline.
I hear the limit of their thinking.
Japan understood this long ago:
Success begins before the clock starts.
Will Americans and Germans and many others relearn these self-explanatory principles?
The question going forward is:
Will YOU continue with the behavior of the Have-Nots, or choose the behavior and success of the Have-Yachts?
Bitcoin. 🟠
I'm the VP of AI at Apple.
I've been here since 2011.
I watched Siri launch.
It was revolutionary.
For about six months.
Then Google Assistant came out.
Then Alexa.
Then ChatGPT.
We kept saying we were "focused on privacy."
Privacy is what you say when you're losing.
Three years ago the board asked about our AI strategy.
I showed them a slide that said "On-Device Intelligence."
They nodded.
They didn't know what it meant.
Neither did I.
But it had a picture of a neural network.
Neural networks look impressive.
Even when they don't work.
Last year someone asked Siri to set a timer.
It opened a Wikipedia article about timers.
Tim saw the meme.
He didn't laugh.
He scheduled a "strategic offsite."
Offsites are where we go to admit failure privately.
I presented three options.
Option 1: Build our own LLM.
That would take four years.
We don't have four years.
Option 2: Buy a startup.
We looked at twelve.
They all wanted $40 billion.
For teams of nine people.
Who would leave after the acquisition.
Option 3: Call Google.
The room went quiet.
Google is the enemy.
We've spent fifteen years pretending we're better than Google.
Our entire brand is "not Google."
But Google has TPUs.
We don't.
Google has Gemini.
We have Siri.
Siri still can't reliably add items to a grocery list.
I called Sundar.
He picked up on the first ring.
He'd been waiting.
They all wait.
Eventually everyone calls Google.
I asked for TPU access.
He said yes.
I asked for Gemini integration.
He said yes.
I asked how much.
He said one billion dollars.
I said that's a lot.
He said "per year."
I paused.
He said "you don't really have a choice."
He was smiling.
I could hear it.
We announced it as a "strategic partnership."
Partnership means we're paying them.
The press release said we're "enhancing Siri's capabilities."
Enhancing means replacing.
We said the new Siri arrives "late 2026."
Late 2026 means 2027.
Maybe 2028.
Definitely not 2026.
A reporter asked if this means Apple lost the AI race.
Our comms team said we're "thoughtfully deliberate."
That's not an answer.
But it has enough syllables to sound like one.
Internally, we're calling it "Project Humble Pie."
Someone suggested "Project Brain Transplant."
HR flagged that as "not brand-aligned."
The engineers are relieved.
They've been trying to make Siri work for years.
Now they can blame Google.
Blame is a renewable resource.
Tim did a podcast.
He said AI is "a profound technology."
He's never used ChatGPT.
I showed him once.
He asked why it was typing so slowly.
I said that's how it works.
He said "Siri should be faster."
I said "Siri will be Google."
He said "don't say that publicly."
I won't.
Publicly, we're "leveraging industry partnerships."
Leveraging means surrendering.
But with dignity.
We still have the best hardware.
We still have the ecosystem.
We still have the brand.
We just don't have AI.
So we're renting it.
From the company we've mocked for two decades.
The one billion dollars is a licensing fee.
The real cost is the narrative.
We were the innovators.
Now we're the integrators.
But the stock is up 3%.
Wall Street doesn't care about innovation.
Wall Street cares about not falling behind.
We're not falling behind anymore.
We're being carried.
By Google.
For one billion dollars a year.
I'll present this as a win at the next all-hands.
Wins are whatever you frame them as.
The graph will go up and to the right.
It always does.
As long as you pick the right metric.
I go on X, engage with a few silly posts asking IQ test type questions and now my entire feed is littered with bots asking more of these questions.
How can I revert back to my normal feed? Would be handy to have a way back feature like in Windows.
@X@elonmusk
Bridge not taken
This semi-built bridge feels like a puzzle missing a piece, a powerful reminder of how often in life and work we can see the final vision so clearly, yet until it’s complete, it’s as if it doesn’t exist at all.
In personal growth, progress itself is the win. Every step forward, every effort, that’s what truly counts. Reaching the goal is the bonus that crowns the journey.
In business though, completion is non-negotiable. Results matter. When goals aren’t reached, it’s called failure. Some cultures don't tolerate failure, others examine and even celebrate it.
I’ve learned to see failure as fuel for growth: stumble, fall, rise, and move forward again, stronger, smarter, and more resilient each time.
As for this bridge? If it were in one of the post-Soviet countries, it might stay that way for years. But where I saw it, I’m hopeful that gap will be closed before the year’s end.
What does an unfinished bridge make you think of?