Something I’ve learned over the years as an entrepreneur is that we’re held to a standard of precision, but judged on intuition. Every decision we make is scrutinized, often from the comfort of those who aren’t risking their capital, reputation, or future. In the United States, we see this frequently: figures in the private sector singled out by those in power or by public opinion, questioned more for what they represent than for what they do. They are criticized for growing, for influencing, for making people uncomfortable. And yet, it is these very same figures who drive real change, who move entire industries, and who, through successes and mistakes, ultimately alter the economic course.
I could mention several examples of entrepreneurs who are well-liked. Elon Musk is not one of them. His style irritates, provokes, and at times borders on arrogance, because he does not seek approval, nor does he need it. In an era where many leaders guard every word as if it were a financial asset, Musk acts as if the reputational cost were irrelevant. And yet, there lies the point: his value does not depend on likability.
Just a year ago, people were talking about Tesla’s supposed “loss.” Today, that episode seems like a footnote. The company weathered the storm and reached all-time highs in its stock price before correcting along with the rest of the market. Musk, far from retreating, increased his net worth and remains in the conversation as a potential first trillionaire, and this is less a coincidence than the result of decisions others dare not make. One may question his character, but not his ability to foresee the future.
Something similar is happening with Starlink, which is both a business and infrastructure with political and social implications. Bringing high-speed internet to areas where there was previously no connection changes the basic rules of the game: access to information, education, and commerce. In contexts where governments restrict communications, this network doesn’t ask for permission—it just operates. That kind of initiative is uncomfortable because it reduces the control of those who have historically held it.
Then there is X, formerly known as Twitter. Musk decided to push a radical vision of free speech, with fewer filters and less intervention in content. Is it perfect? No. Does it generate noise? Constantly. But it responds to a clear conviction: public conversation should not be in the hands of a few moderators. In a context where platforms influence politics, markets, and public opinion, that stance has profound implications.
Many prefer to focus on his personality. It’s easier to criticize his tone than to analyze his results. Musk didn’t build his fortune through passivity; he amassed it by betting on sectors that others considered unviable or premature.
I am neither an admirer nor a detractor, but I don’t need to agree with his character to acknowledge what he has built. Electric vehicles that lead their segment, space exploration that expands real possibilities, satellite connectivity that breaks down barriers, and developments in artificial intelligence that aim to redefine the way we work. That is not achieved through excessive caution or by seeking approval.
It’s easy to point the finger at him. It’s convenient to reduce it to his personality. It’s common to repeat the narrative that the problem is the entrepreneur and not the lack of vision among those who criticize us. But reality is less forgiving: while some opine, others build. While some get indignant, others decide.
And that’s the difference. Neither Musk nor many entrepreneurs are waiting to be liked; we’re busy transforming entire industries. If that bothers you, come compete.
