Make Elon Great Again

Pause.

Before reacting—before retreating into the familiar grooves of outrage or approval—let’s step back. Consider, for a moment, what it truly means to make someone great. Whether a leader or a lover, a parent or a pioneer—how does greatness actually emerge? 

It is not, as we might assume, through the crucible of relentless critique, nor through the blind fervor of admiration. It is not imposed from the outside, nor engineered through coercion.

True greatness is called forth. It is recognized and nurtured, shaped as much by the field around it as by the individual themselves. And yet, we have forgotten this.

We have mistaken condemnation for accountability, humiliation for justice, and cynicism for wisdom. We have become a culture of negation, convinced that the path to improvement lies in dismantling rather than elevating.

We fixate on flaws, believing that to name them is to correct them. But no one has ever been shamed into their highest potential. No culture has thrived by reducing its visionaries.

What if, instead of engaging in this endless cycle of disapproval, we turned our collective power toward a different experiment—one that calls forth genius rather than punishes imperfection?

So, let’s begin with reality.

Donald Trump is in office. Elon Musk is at the helm of government-backed initiatives that shape the infrastructure of our time. The question, then, is not whether we approve or disapprove of these facts, but how we meet this reality and call forth genius from it.

How do we engage, not from a place of resistance or blind allegiance, but from the understanding that leadership is shaped as much by those who surround it as by those who wield it?

If we really wanted Elon Musk to succeed—if we wanted him to be the kind of leader, innovator, and cultural force that reshapes history for the better—it would take something that, as a culture, we have yet to master: a collective force of clarity, focus, and unwavering belief in his highest potential.

Right now, Musk is standing in the eye of a storm. The projections, the criticisms, the demands, the adoration—they all swirl around him, forming a chaotic mass of expectation. Power, when thrust upon someone, is never a neutral force. It is an energy field, a gravitational pull that can distort reality. And as a culture, we don’t yet acknowledge just how real that energy is. We act as if leadership is purely a function of intelligence or strategy. 

Imagine if, instead of reactionary takes and instant judgment, there was a tidal wave of focused intention, a cultural movement that said: Elon Musk will be an absolute and clear success in everything he does. He will operate according to the needs of the people. He will cut every single penny of misspent money while maintaining the absolutely necessary institutions that ensure equality, care, and compassion for all human beings.

Imagine if every person, every voice, every mind that had even the slightest interest in his work aligned in that message.

We have the technology. We have social media capable of mobilizing millions in hours. We have the collective force of human intention, which has toppled governments, built empires, and driven revolutions. Why not use that force with precision?

Why not apply it not as a weapon, but as a tuning fork—harmonizing the chaos, cutting through the noise, guiding him toward the most visionary version of himself?

The truth is, success is never about one person. It is about the ecosystem around them. And the greatest mistake we make is believing that our role in that ecosystem is passive. We forget that what we focus on grows, that what we believe about someone has the power to shape them. If we want to make Elon great, we don’t need him to be perfect. We need to be brilliant enough to hold the space for his highest potential to emerge.

We need to be willing to send him clarity, not chaos. Vision, not division.

So, if we were truly wise, truly strategic, truly powerful as a culture, we wouldn’t be watching and waiting to see if Musk succeeds or fails. We would be making him succeed. Because in the end, the only way to build the future we want is to start acting like we already live in it.