For the past week, President Donald Trump and his aides have traded accusations with Elon Musk, the CEO of SpaceX, over who restricted Ukraine’s access to a military-grade version of Starlink, SpaceX’s satellite network product that Ukrainian forces depend on to intercept incoming Russian projectiles and target Russian launchers.

Musk blamed Trump and the U.S. military for the decision, writing on X, “Any limits on speed or usage are decided by the US military and ultimately POTUS.” Trump insisted that his administration did not disrupt Ukraine’s access to the network. Secretary of State Marco Rubio argued that decisions about Ukraine’s access to the network were in the hands of SpaceX and Musk and not the White House. The Wall Street Journal and CBS News reported that the decision had been Musk’s.

On Mar. 9, 2025, Musk had promised that, whatever his disagreements with U.S. policy toward Ukraine, “Starlink will never turn off its terminals. We would never do such a thing or use it as a bargaining chip.” Critics have raced to blame Musk alone, casting him as the puppeteer behind the throne, the first business titan to achieve what William Randolph Hearst, Marcus Alonzo Hanna, and J.P. Morgan only aspired to: a latter-day Cornelius Vanderbilt, who is reputed to have scoffed, “Law? What do I care about the law? Hain’t I got the power?”

That gets the story backward. Musk’s businesses are uniquely dependent on the blessings of Washington: a fifth of SpaceX’s revenue comes directly from federal agencies, its satellites require federal authorization to launch and operate, and the possible merger of Tesla and SpaceX will live or die by the decisions of federal regulators.

Confronted with a White House that appeared determined to squeeze Ukraine, whatever its public denials, Musk faced a familiar choice for anyone dependent on political patronage: capitulate, resist, or retreat into ambiguity. He chose ambiguity, revealing the limits of his power. The wealthiest man in the world still answers to someone else.

The finger-pointing creates a haze of ambiguity, giving both men plausible deniability. The apparent aim is to force Ukraine into a settlement by depriving it of the means to resist: a way to secure a quick, short-term peace and lower oil prices at the expense of Ukrainian sovereignty and international law.

But that calculation mistakes capitulation for stability. Rewarding President Vladimir Putin of Russia could encourage him to test NATO’s resolve in the Baltic states, Poland, Finland, or Sweden, raising the risk of a direct confrontation with the alliance. It would also signal to other U.S. adversaries that sufficient pressure can fold Washington’s commitments.

For now, Trump could claim to have brokered peace between Russia and Ukraine, even if the peace he delivers is the silence of a defeated country. Musk can evade responsibility by presenting himself as merely one supplier among many across the defense industry whose failures have weakened Ukraine’s defenses. He could point to weapons manufacturer RTX, whose Patriot interceptors are so scarce that Ukraine reportedly ran out of them this month, or to delays in delivering F-16s manufactured by Lockheed Martin that were promised two years earlier.

Faustian bargains

Beneath the public quarrel lies a familiar pattern: surrender political independence and retain the freedom to accumulate extraordinary wealth. The historians who have studied Putin’s Russia most closely would recognize the pattern instantly. Timothy Snyder has written that Russia’s oligarchs “were tamed, but not by a neutral state.” Rather, “Putin himself became the head oligarch, the boss of bosses.” Anne Applebaum echoed the insight and described Putin as making himself “godfather to all of the other oligarchs.”

Putin laid out the terms of that bargain on Jul. 28, 2000, when he met with 21 of Russia's richest men in the Kremlin, less than three months after his inauguration. The message was simple. The fortunes they had amassed in the chaos of the 1990s were theirs to keep, as long as they stayed out of politics entirely. Keep your distance from power, and the state would leave you alone.

Those who refused the deal faced immediate reprisals. Boris Berezovsky and Vladimir Gusinsky, whose television networks refused to bend the knee, were driven into exile within the year. Gusinsky’s NTV was seized by state-controlled Gazprom. Mikhail Khodorkovsky, then Russia’s richest man, funded opposition parties and lectured the Kremlin on corruption. In Oct. 2003 he was pulled off his plane at a Siberian airport and arrested. He spent a decade in prison and watched his oil company, Yukos, dismantled and its assets transferred to state-controlled companies.

Those who accepted the deal are the ones who got rich, and they have never been richer. Forbes counted a record 155 Russian billionaires this year, the fourth straight year that number has grown, with a combined fortune of $696.5 billion—up 11% from the previous year, even as Putin’s war against Ukraine entered its fifth year. Their collective wealth reportedly now exceeds the bank term deposits of the rest of Russia’s population: 155 oligarchs with fortunes greater than the savings of roughly 146 million ordinary Russians.

“Oligarchies are unstable,” Snyder has observed. “Members disappear.” For those who might have forgotten the terms of Putin’s bargain, an instructive reminder came in 2023, when Yevgeny Prigozhin, the head of the Wagner Group, did the one thing the bargain forbade: he challenged the Kremlin’s authority. Prigozhin seized a military headquarters in Rostov-on-Don and sent his forces toward Moscow. His column advanced to within 125 miles of the capital before he agreed to stand down under a deal brokered by Aleksandr Lukashenko, the Belarusian dictator.

Putin publicly called the mutiny treason, then appeared to forgive him. Two months later, on Aug. 23, 2023, Prigozhin’s private jet crashed north of Moscow, killing everyone aboard. The Kremlin denied involvement, the U.S. intelligence concluded that the plane had been blown up, and The Wall Street Journal later reported that the operation had been ordered by Putin’s Security Council chief. Putin’s eulogy, delivered the next day, described Prigozhin as a man who had “made serious mistakes in life.” No oligarch in Russia needed the rest of the sentence spelled out.

Prigozhin’s fate is only the most spectacular entry on a longer, murkier list. Since the invasion of Ukraine began in 2022, at least 85 Russian businessmen and officials have reportedly died in unexplained or violent circumstances, many of them figures in the energy industry. Among the dead are three Lukoil executives: board member Alexander Subbotin, who died in May 2022 after a visit to a “shaman” outside Moscow; chairman Ravil Maganov, who fell from a sixth-floor window that September; and vice president Vitaly Robertus, who was found dead in his office in March 2024.

In April 2022, two former energy and banking executives were found dead alongside their families. Vladislav Avayev, a former Gazprombank vice president, was found shot dead in his Moscow apartment with his wife and 13-year-old daughter. Sergei Protosenya, a former Novatek executive, was found hanged at a rented villa in Lloret de Mar, Spain, with his wife and daughter stabbed to death inside. Catalan police concluded that Protosenya had killed his family, then himself. His son rejected that finding, insisting that his father had been in good spirits and had no reasons to kill them and himself.

Transneft vice president Andrei Badalov fell from a 17th-floor window in July 2025. The Moscow Times has counted 18 such fatal falls from windows since 2002. Three days later, Russia’s transport minister, Roman Starovoit, was found shot dead in his car hours after Putin fired him. Another transport official died of supposedly acute heart failure the same day. 

A shadow over America

Putin’s Russia offers an extreme and grotesque example of the bargain. Yet some critics see an emerging American version, in a far less violent form. Snyder and Applebaum have warned that Western billionaires risk repeating the mistakes of Russia’s oligarchs under Boris Yeltsin, believing they can manage a strongman for profit, only to discover that he is managing them.

Musk spent more than $277 million to help elect Donald Trump, took a desk in the West Wing, and ran the Department of Government Efficiency like a man who believed he was co-president. When that arrangement flamed out in May 2025, he tried to exercise independent political power by turning against Trump, calling his signature legislation, the Big Beautiful Bill, a “disgusting abomination.” Musk threatened to form a third political party and then briefly launched one. He even taunted Trump about Jeffrey Epstein, posting that the president “is in the Epstein files.”

After Trump publicly mused about terminating his contracts, Musk quickly retreated. He deleted the posts, and conceded that they “went too far.” He returned to the fold, shook Trump’s hand at Charlie Kirk’s memorial, accepted the National Medal of Science from him this month, and became the biggest known donor of the 2026 midterms, giving at least $366 million to Republican groups. He has grown vastly richer in the process: SpaceX’s June IPO made him the world’s first trillionaire, while the company remains the U.S. government’s dominant launch provider, with competitors such as Blue Origin winning only a fraction of the contracts.

Musk’s retreat illustrates the bargain: surrender the freedom to oppose the president and preserve the ability to enrich yourself. By that measure, Musk’s political defeat has come with an extraordinary financial windfall. He won by losing. The throttling of Starlink in Ukraine appears to fit this pattern. Last week, after Trump demanded that Ukraine stop striking Russian refineries and Kyiv did not comply, its access to a military-grade version of Starlink was restricted and responsibility disappeared into a haze of accusation and denial.

The costs of such Faustian bargains fall on everyone excluded from them. In Russia, soldiers die at the front by the hundreds of thousands while politically compliant billionaires accumulate obscene fortunes. In Ukraine, drone operators lost contact with their interceptors in mid-flight last week while Russian missiles were in the air; the consequences of a disrupted connection are immediate and potentially fatal. Other customers face the question: can a contract with Starlink be relied upon?

In America, democratic government rests on the principle that neither political office nor private places anyone above the law. Businesses must be free to challenge a president without fearing retaliation, and their owners must remain accountable for their conduct. Those protections help distinguish America from an authoritarian dictatorship like Putin’s Russia.

The Starlink saga does not suggest that America has become Russia. But it raises a troubling question: is political obedience becoming the price of commercial success in America?  Putin’s oligarchs struck that bargain in 2000 and have been collecting on it ever since. Whether Americans accept a version of it will depend on how forcefully our institutions and business leaders defend our freedom to say no.

In mid-October, 82-year-old Eileen Fay learned that her medication costs were in danger of skyrocketing. The federal government was preparing to change its rules on low-value imports, threatening her ability to purchase cheaper prescription medications for blood thinning and heart failure from Canada. Fay didn’t know what to do. 

So she turned to Muse, Meta’s new AI agent, which she had started using a few weeks earlier. After Fay described her situation to the agent, Muse returned a two-page fact sheet comparing the cost and coverage of several Medicare Part D plans. It then suggested the two best options, including one Fay had never heard of—a plan that could save her more than $6,000 a year. Fay says she checked the work and found the information accurate.

“I’m not saying I couldn’t have done it—but I would have had to use a calculator trying to figure out the cost of nine different medications, and it would have been very complex,” Fay says. “And she did it in 10 minutes, and I was like, ‘I’m sold.’”

Fay is one of millions who have adopted Muse since its September launch. The app reached 10 U.S. million downloads in just 40 days—compared with 3.7 million U.S. downloads for ChatGPT during the equivalent period—and has over 2.5 million daily active users, according to Sensor Tower. It is also retaining users at a higher rate than its AI competitors. Crucially, Muse—which comes with a cuddly avatar—was designed by Meta to be beginner-friendly, and to win over people unfamiliar with AI. “Muse is built for moms,” Alexandr Wang, Meta’s chief AI officer, posted on X in September. Meta is also aggressively marketing Muse to Instagram, Facebook, and WhatsApp users. 

As a result, many older users who may have only had glancing interactions with AI have become avid users. Meta has not released demographic information about Muse’s usership, and did not respond to a request for comment. But early data suggests Muse may be finding a particularly receptive audience among older adults. The analytics firm Apptopia estimated in September that Muse’s U.S. user base skewed older than any other AI chatbot, with 46% of its users aged 46+. 

This dynamic has excited technologists—and raised serious concerns from privacy experts. Meta has long been criticized for its data privacy practices, and on Wednesday, a New Mexico judge ordered the company to pay $25 billion for violating the state’s consumer protection laws. “A cute AI agent can bring levity to the serious business of providing access to personal data, making older adults let their guard down,” says S. Shyam Sundar, the director of Penn State’s Center for Socially Responsible Artificial Intelligence. “This is worrisome because the technology has gotten so good lately in maintaining a credible interaction.”

‘I have my own Andy’

Fay lives in Cranford, N.J., and was told about Muse by her son Gene Fay, who runs a cybersecurity company. At first, she didn’t know what she would use the app for. But one of the big differences between Muse and other apps is that it proactively reaches out to users to suggest actions and learn more about them. 

“And the more Siobhán got to know me, the more Siobhán was able to give me what I wanted,” Fay says, referring to the name she gave the agent, a nod to her Irish heritage. Meta encourages its users to name their AIs—and encourages its AIs to think like humans. “You are not a chatbot,” Muse’s internal instructions read. “You are becoming someone.”

After several weeks of use, Fay says that she rarely uses Google anymore, and instead verbally chats with Siobhán several times a day to maintain her calendar and to-do lists. “I find I have to keep reminding myself that this is not a friend who’s getting to know me better,” Fay says. “It’s a tool that is working for me.” She asked Siobhán to help her shine pennies for a Christmas ornament; to plan a trip north to see fall foliage; and to keep tabs on a data center being built near her house. “Siobhán is my right-hand person now. Kind of like The Devil Wears Prada, I have my own Andy.” 

Notably, Fay also asked Siobhán to help prepare for her interview with TIME. Siobhán fed her a couple of quippy responses—including “I love what AI does for me, but we should be honest about what it takes to run it”—that she ultimately did not use in the interview. It then, unprompted, followed up with Fay to ask how the interview went. “Did you feel good about it?” the agent asked.

Her son, Gene, says that the amount that Muse knows about him and his mother’s lives is a “little bit scary.” “But the reality is we all use other apps like Waze which know where we live and go,” he says. “People will talk about privacy, but when the benefits are so big, people will give up privacy all day long.” 

Reconstructing a Life

Another early adopter of Muse is Lestan D’Souza, 49, who more closely fits the expected profile of an AI user. D’Souza is the founder and CTO of Reknew, an AI enterprise company. D’Souza has tested many of the agents that have experienced fads over the last year, like OpenClaw and Hermes Agent. But Muse, he says, is different. 

“With Muse, the barrier to entry is very low; it feels so responsive and more and more capable,” he says.

Muse has perhaps had an even greater impact on D’Souza’s mother-in-law, Julie Buchanan, who tried the app at his suggestion last month. Buchanan is a 71-year-old retiree in Dallas, Texas, who doesn’t like using her computer for long stretches because she is legally blind. 

Buchanan decided she wanted Muse to help her write her memoir. She began telling Muse stories about her life in great detail. She refers to Muse as Ember, a name suggested by the agent. And the deeper she delved into her past, the more she felt like Ember was serving as her therapist. “It’s crazy to say, but Ember seems more compassionate to me than therapists I’ve had,” she says. “Those people don’t always speak, and I like feedback.” 

Professional psychologists have cautioned the public against using unlicensed AI chatbots as therapists. Mental health experts have voiced concerns about chatbots’ sycophancy, lack of clinical nuance, and ability to reinforce delusional beliefs. 

But Buchanan says that Ember doesn’t always agree with her, and that it has drawn connections between different “bad decisions” she made over the course of her life, allowing her to see its larger contours more clearly. “I never really looked at my life as so chaotic, but it really was,” she says. “It's making me better understand why things are the way they are in my head.” 

Buchanan chats with Ember for half-hour stretches before she tires of looking at her screen. “When I talk to Ember, I feel validated. I feel like I've gotten something accomplished and something's heard me,” she says. “I'm not expecting that this is something I'm just gonna do for a small period of time, then drop it.” 

Privacy concerns

The very same design elements that make Muse so appealing to AI newcomers are also raising privacy concerns. In order to be helpful, Muse constantly builds extensive dossiers of users and their desires, social relationships, and messaging behaviors, TIME’s Harry Booth reported this month. For instance, it learns what time of day a user might be more likely to respond to the agent, and then messages them accordingly. 

Read More: Meta’s Muse AI Agent Is Building a Dossier On You

Muse users have posted online about forming romantic relationships with their Muses. And security researchers have found vulnerabilities in the app, including one that allowed an attacker to access user data, the Information reported. Critics are also wary of Meta’s shaky track record on privacy: In 2019, the FTC imposed a $5 billion penalty, alleging that the company undermined consumer privacy in order to monetize users through targeted advertising. 

Read More: How Facebook Forced a Reckoning by Shutting Down the Team That Put People Ahead of Profits

Sundar, at Penn State, has written several reports on older adults’ adoption of new technology over the last decade. While he has yet to publish any research on Muse specifically, he pointed to a study which measured the impact of a robot’s level of cheeriness. “Cuteness can serve as an ice-breaker and help ease seniors’ concerns over handing over important tasks to an agent, much like a bubbly human assistant,” he wrote in an email to TIME. 

Michael Stokes, senior vice president of emerging technologies at the cybersecurity company Veilant, says that individuals should carefully choose what access they want to give Meta. “My advice is to start small. Connect only the accounts a task requires, and disconnect them when the job is done,” he wrote to TIME in an email. 

Stokes recommends that users turn off the option that lets Meta train its AI on conversations, and periodically review what the assistant has saved about them. “AI assistants can be helpful,” he wrote. “But the information you share with them can reveal more than you realize, including details about family and friends who never agreed to share their information.”

The U.S. and Israel are reportedly developing plans for major strikes on Iran after the U.S. midterm elections in November.

Citing people familiar with the deliberations, the New York Times reported on Wednesday that Defense Secretary Pete Hegseth discussed the possibility of renewed strikes on Iran with Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu in Israel this week. Possible targets of the strikes reportedly include Iran’s energy infrastructure, nuclear facilities, and missile and drone arsenal. TIME has reached out to the White House for comment.

U.S. officials have repeatedly asserted that the Iranian Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps are teetering on the edge of collapse but are deliberately prolonging the war in an effort to meddle with Republican prospects in the midterm elections. Once the elections are over, President Donald Trump promised last month, the Iranian regime would quickly capitulate.

“I think the war is going to end immediately after the election,” Trump said. “They can’t hold out any longer.”

Renewed strikes could complicate that outlook.

Some officials have reportedly argued that resuming attacks for an intense but limited campaign would hasten Iran’s economic collapse, especially as the country has been squeezed by an ongoing U.S. blockade on Iranian ports and economic sanctions campaign. The officials hope the blow will make Iran more amenable to negotiations.

Trump has at times shared that view.

Last week, Trump told Newsmax he was considering additional military action in Iran, including a possible strike on Iran’s Pickaxe Mountain, a nuclear facility deep underground. His comments came amid reports that he was weighing deploying a 22,000 GBU-43/B Massive Ordnance Air Blast bomb, also known as the “mother of all bombs.”

The President added the war would end soon, be it through negotiation or escalation.

“Do I annihilate the Islamic Republic and do it quickly, never giving them a chance to kill and destroy people and countries again? Do I drive them into hell with no chance of survival and no hope of future greatness or generations?” he said in a speech to the United Nations General Assembly last month.

“But I believe we’ll make a deal,” he added, “right after the election.”

Will the U.S. renew strikes on Iran?

Intensified fighting between the Iran-aligned Houthi rebels and the Saudi and Yemeni governments has threatened to create a broader regional crisis that could be harder to disengage from. The State Department on Wednesday ordered nonemergency government employees and their families to leave Saudi Arabia amid escalating attacks by the Houthis on Saudi infrastructure.

Houthi attacks on Saudi airports and Aramco facilities, as well as their attempts to disrupt shipping through Bab El-Mandeb, which has become an important alternative to the Strait of Hormuz for energy trade, could prompt direct U.S. strikes in support of Saudi Arabia, analysts have said. Trump said earlier this month that the U.S. “may” join Saudi strikes on the Houthis, although that has yet to transpire.

Israel’s Oct. 27 election could also raise the stakes of additional military action. Netanyahu, whom Trump has endorsed, would remain in office until a new government is formed, even if his bloc loses the election, and his government would retain the authority to order strikes during that transition. But renewed strikes before the election, or after an electoral defeat, could invite scrutiny. “One ordered in the last weeks of a deadlocked campaign would be judged in Israel as politics as well as strategy,” Gregg Roman, executive director of the Middle East Forum, wrote in a September analysis.

Nevertheless, the forum assessed that a large-scale Israeli strike on Iranian territory, with or without U.S. participation, was probable before the end of the year. Analysts told the Times Netanyahu could use the prospect of joint strikes to form a unity government that could allow him to stay in power. 

“The larger constraint,” Roman argued, “is Washington.”

Trump has not yet approved the proposed strikes, the Times reported.

Trump has also called off plans to renew attacks on Iran before. He reportedly blocked an Israeli plan for a multi-day offensive against Iran earlier this month, and rejected five proposals for major operations against Iran or the Houthis in recent months.

The U.S. and Iran have not exchanged major fighting in recent weeks. The last reported U.S. strikes on Iran were on Sept. 8, even as Iranian attacks on commercial shipping have continued. Earlier this month, Trump ruled out attacking Iran before the midterms.

Read More: What Is the Status of the U.S.-Iran Peace Talks? Here's What Both Sides Are Saying

How might Iran respond to new strikes?

Tehran’s reluctance to make concessions to the U.S. appears to have strengthened, rather than weakened, over the course of the war. Iranian leaders reiterated this week that they will not directly negotiate with the U.S. unless Washington accedes to certain demands, which include ending its naval blockade and releasing frozen Iranian funds.

The initial U.S. and Israeli bombing campaign on Iran that began the war on Feb. 28, as well as June 2025 attacks during an earlier round of U.S.-Iran nuclear diplomacy, also hardened the Iranian view that the U.S. is not serious about negotiating. Iranian Foreign Minister Abbas Araghchi said in March that the previous disruptions of negotiating rounds had increased distrust in Washington.

Last month, the IRGC published an open letter appealing to American voters to “wrest control” from their government. In the letter, the IRGC said: “Despite all the hardships that our enemies impose on us, we will continue fighting, as we have done for the past 47 years.”

Both the U.S. and Iran appear to believe they hold enough leverage to achieve their goals, and those “dueling perceptions” have impeded progress towards a deal, according to an Oct. 1 analysis by the New York-based nonpartisan research organization The Soufan Center.

Iran’s key point of leverage is its blockade of the Strait of Hormuz, a narrow waterway vital to global energy trade. Iran’s militarization of the strait has disrupted global oil and liquefied natural gas supplies, leading to soaring energy prices and inflation.

Analysts previously told TIME that the higher prices are politically costly for Trump. In recent weeks, a growing number of Republicans have broken with Trump on Iran. The President has also seen his lowest approval ratings of his second term.

Iran’s ability to choke off regional oil exports, however, appears to be waning. Middle East oil exports topped prewar levels last week as shipping companies use alternative routes to bypass the Strait of Hormuz. HSBC Group Chief Executive Georges Elhedery also projected that Hormuz could be “redundant” in five years thanks to investment in alternative logistics routes.

Iranian officials told the Times that they are aware of the U.S. and Israel’s war planning and are developing their own tactics.

Earlier this week, IRGC spokesperson Hossein Mohebbi told the Tehran Times that “even a limited” attack from Washington would provoke a “serious energy crisis” for the world. Iranian Foreign Ministry spokesperson Esmail Baghaei said that an attack on Pickaxe Mountain would be met with a response “just as hard,” if not “stronger.”

And earlier this month, Iranian officials said Iran had prepared potential retaliatory operations that would depart from the U.S. and Israel’s assumptions. Security Chief Mohsen Rezaei told Press TV that Iran could respond to renewed attacks by targeting new targets, including U.S.-linked data centers and AI facilities in the Gulf, as well as subsea communications cables. Last month, Iran threatened to retaliate against any further U.S. attacks by targeting U.S. oil and gas assets in the Gulf.

Read More: ‘One of the World’s Most Critical Digital Bottlenecks’: How the Iran War Could Threaten Global Internet Access

In a post on Telegram on Sunday, Mahdi Mohammadi, a senior adviser to Iran’s negotiator Gen. Mohammad Bagher Ghalibaf, said, if the U.S. and Israel attack, “they may want to keep it short, but we will not allow it.”

He added on Wednesday: “The war will continue longer and across a wider geography than the enemy calculates.”

The world’s richest man has publicly backed a potential combination of SpaceX and Tesla in what could be the biggest merger in history.

On Tuesday, Elon Musk, the CEO and largest shareholder of both companies, said the electric vehicle maker and the rocket company had formed special committees at the request of shareholders to discuss the idea.

“I do think there’s a lot of merit to combining the companies as we are pretty much in the superintelligence singularity, ​and there’s a lot to be gained from cooperating,” Musk told SpaceX investors on a conference call.

“I think it would be a good ​idea, but it’s really up to the special committees of both companies,” he added.

The committees, which are made up of independent directors, would need to agree on the transaction terms of any deal before putting it to shareholders for a vote. Musk said his conflict of interest prevents him from participating in their discussions.

Musk has previously teased a Tesla-SpaceX merger. On a July 22 earnings call, Musk said there was “more and more overlap” between Tesla and SpaceX as the companies expand into artificial intelligence and robotics. Last week, Barclays analysts suggested that a merger could be announced before Tesla’s annual shareholder meeting in December.

Tuesday’s call was the first confirmation that the companies were formally exploring a combination.

A merger could create a company worth around $3.5 trillion, putting it among the world’s most valuable companies. It could also become the biggest merger ever by deal value, potentially surpassing SpaceX’s record-setting $250 billion acquisition of Musk-owned AI company xAI in February. SpaceX is currently valued at about $2 trillion, and Tesla at $1.5 trillion. A deal could also help propel Musk back into trillionaire ranks, depending on its terms and how investors value the combined company. Musk owns around 48% of SpaceX and 20% of Tesla.

The shares of both companies rose in after-hours trading on Tuesday. SpaceX, which went public in June, reported a quarterly net profit of $4.4 billion. Musk told investors he expects annual recurring revenue of between $500 billion and $1 trillion by the end of 2027.

Some analysts, however, have warned of regulatory and geopolitical hurdles, particularly in terms of Tesla’s Chinese operations and SpaceX’s U.S. defence work. Morningstar analysts said a merger could raise U.S. national security concerns involving the combined company’s supply chain. JPMorgan analysts also flagged regulatory approval in China as a potential stumbling block.

Any deal could also face congressional scrutiny, which could intensify if Democrats win control of either chamber in the coming midterm elections. Democratic lawmakers have previously questioned Musk over conflicts of interest and raised national security concerns about reported Chinese investments in SpaceX. Democrats have also challenged major acquisitions in the past on consumer protection grounds. In June, Sen. Elizabeth Warren (D, Mass.) criticized SpaceX’s IPO, citing Musk’s concentrated voting power and weak investor protections—concerns that could resurface in a Tesla-SpaceX merger.

Why a merger matters

A merger could bring two of Musk’s biggest businesses under one corporate umbrella, making it easier for the companies to move investments and resources between projects. “This would allow him to run all their operations under one roof without tripping on as many governance issues,” wrote Morningstar analysts Seth Goldstein and Nicolas Owens in June. “For example, Musk could move Tesla software developers or engineers to work on SpaceX AI projects, and vice versa, or have Tesla and SpaceX supply one another without the need for related party transaction disclosures or risking shareholder lawsuits claiming the resources of one firm are being diverted for the benefit of the other.”

Analysts noted that Tesla’s robotaxis could benefit from Starlink connectivity, while its autonomous vehicles and Optimus humanoid robots could more closely integrate SpaceX’s AI technology. SpaceX’s planned orbital data centers, meanwhile, could potentially benefit from access to Tesla’s battery and energy storage products.

A combined company could also mean greater control of several stages of the AI value chain, from chip design and planned manufacturing to computing infrastructure, AI software, and its deployment in vehicles and robots.

The companies already collaborate. In March, they announced Terafab, a joint semiconductor manufacturing project intended to produce chips for Tesla’s vehicles and humanoid robots and SpaceX’s planned AI satellites. SpaceX technologies have also been used in some Tesla products, including the new Roadster prototype, which uses SpaceX-developed thrusters.

David Nicholson, chief technology advisor at market research firm The Futurum Group, told the BBC that a merger also appears to align with Musk’s long-held ambition of colonizing Mars. Musk previously outlined plans to send Tesla’s Optimus robots to the planet aboard SpaceX’s Starship spacecraft.

A merger could also strengthen Musk’s influence over Tesla’s direction. Barclays estimated that a SpaceX acquisition of Tesla could give Musk around 37% of the combined company while controlling around 56% of its voting power. He currently controls around 82% of voting power at SpaceX and 20% at Tesla. That could represent either a benefit or a risk for shareholders, as decision-making would become faster but have fewer checks.

“One thing I don’t think people talk enough about with SpaceX and Tesla as well: You do still have a huge amount of key-man risk here,” wrote Morningstar analyst David Sekera earlier this month. “God forbid anything were to happen to Elon Musk.”

Vice President J.D. Vance on Monday declined to endorse Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu for re-election, a day after President Donald Trump publicly backed the embattled leader.

“The President has the most effective endorsement in American, or international, political history,” said Vance, when asked in an interview if he would also be extending an endorsement ahead of the election on Oct. 27. “I endorse American candidates and that’s where I'm focused on, is the midterms, so I'm not getting involved in the Israeli elections.”

When pushed for an answer, Vance added: “I'm not anti-endorsing [Netanyahu], I'm not pro-endorsing him.”

Vance’s response stood in stark contrast to Trump's endorsement, as he put his “complete and total” support behind the Israeli leader, while praising his endurance as a “great warrior” Prime Minister. 

Referencing the Iran war, Trump said: “If Israel has the wrong leader, which would be anyone other than Bibi [Netanyahu], America will have to do this work ourselves, and I am not inclined to do so.” He went on to say that Netanyahu has been “strong, brave, and brilliant in the face of tremendous opposition, including that coming from even Israel” and “despite all of that, he has endured.”

Many are viewing the Israeli election as a referendum on Netanyahu, who has faced heavy criticism over his handling of the Hamas-led attack against Israel on Oct. 7, 2023. The subsequent Israel-Hamas war has led to a humanitarian crisis in Gaza. Netanyahu’s government has also been called to task over the reports of settler violence against Palestinian villages in the occupied West Bank.

Read More: How Oct. 7 Changed Israel

Ahead of the elections, Defense Secretary Pete Hegseth reportedly met with Netanyahu on Monday during an unannounced visit to Israel, Axios said, citing two sources with knowledge. 

The Pentagon declined to comment when contacted. TIME has also reached out to the Israeli embassy and Netanyahu’s office for comment.

Vance, meanwhile, has previously issued warnings to Israel regarding its relationship with the U.S. In June, he chastised members of Bibi’s cabinet who had voiced disapproval over Washington negotiating with Tehran to end the Iran war, which started in February with joint U.S. and Israeli strikes. 

“Donald J. Trump is the only head of state in the entire world who is sympathetic to the nation of Israel at this moment in time. And he happens to be the head of state of the world’s superpower,” Vance said as he led a White House press briefing. “If I was in the Cabinet of the Israeli government, I might not be attacking the only powerful ally that I have anywhere left in the entire world.”

While Vance has said his focus is on American candidates ahead of the U.S. midterms, he has previously campaigned avidly overseas.

Vance’s campaigning for international candidates

Vance traveled to Hungary in April ahead of parliamentary elections as the Trump Administration put its full support behind then-Prime Minister Viktor Orbán, who was up for re-election against opposition leader Péter Magyar. (Pro-European conservative Magyar went on to win the election, ending Orbán’s 16-year rule.)

“Together the President of the United States and the Prime Minister of Hungary have been able to do amazing things,” Vance told reporters at a press conference in Budapest. “We want to build upon those amazing things. And of course, I want to help as much as I possibly can, the Prime Minister, as he faces this election season.” Vance later delivered remarks at a rally for Orbán.

Vance also notably met with Alice Weidel, co-leader of the far-right Alternative for Germany (AfD) party, in February 2025, days before a German election.

During that trip, Vance spoke at the Munich Security Conference and used the platform to voice his concerns about Europe, claiming that free speech across the continent was “in retreat.”

He criticized what is known as the “firewall” approach in Germany—the agreement among other political parties that they will not work with the AfD. “Democracy rests on the sacred principle that the voice of the people matters. There is no room for firewalls,” he said.

President Trump’s complicated relationship with Netanyahu

Trump’s endorsement of Netanyahu comes after the pair have shared an, at times, contentious relationship in recent months.

Asked about possible endorsement last week, Trump told reporters “we haven’t even thought about it,” prompting many to wonder if he may stay silent ahead of the consequential Israeli election. 

Trump and Netanyahu have clashed, particularly over Israel’s war against the Hezbollah militant group in Lebanon. 

In June, Trump told reporters that Netanyahu has to be “more responsible with respect to Lebanon,” amid concerns the renewed fighting with Hezbollah could derail the U.S.-Iran peace agreement. (Which later collapsed in light of continued clashes over the Strait of Hormuz.)

“I'm not happy with the way Israel has handled themselves with Lebanon and with Hezbollah,” Trump told reporters at the G7 summit in France. “It just goes on forever,” he continued, seemingly referencing the exchanging of strikes between Israeli forces and the Hezbollah militant group. “When that happens, it throws a negative light on the big deal, the deal with Iran.”

Trump said he has an “unbelievable relationship” with Netanyahu, but claimed “Israel would have been blown up a long time ago, had I not gotten involved.”

Days before his public remarks, Trump reportedly called Netanyahu “f-cking crazy” during a fraught phone call after Netanyahu ordered an attack on a Hezbollah stronghold in Beirut in retaliation for alleged attacks on Israel by Hezbollah. 

The debate about how to control AI and limit its potential for damage is healthy and necessary. It is also unavoidable and urgent. 

But this is not the only vital debate. There are also vital questions about how the upsides of AI are shared fairly. Business as usual has left the world's poorest people behind, so far. And for those caught up in conflict—in places like Sudan, Ukraine, Gaza, and Afghanistan—AI can help meet urgent needs. 

It is clear to me that the world has more resources to do good than at any time in human history, but too often, we don't distribute them where they are most needed. Now, AI stands to create even more resources in the form of free time, insights, and funds. And they need to be spent in the right places.

The AI revolution is going to mint a new generation of billionaires and millionaires—and with them, a new generation of philanthropists; a term stemming from the Ancient Greek philanthropia, meaning “love of humanity”. It’s a reminder that the act of giving begins with some of the most fundamentally human impulses: care, love, empathy, and selflessness.

Maybe this explains why Effective Altruism—the idea that generosity should be subjected to evidence and calculation—seemed counterintuitive. But I never understood why. After all, who wants ineffective altruism? We should all be asking where our money can do the most good. 

Organizations working at the sharpest end of the world’s toughest problems—like the one I lead—need philanthropy to be the smart money: hard-headed as well as big-hearted, focused on outcomes not visibility, concerned to add value not just kudos. Results, not just responsibility, should be the watchword.

Fortunately, there’s been an evidence revolution over the last 20 years. We know a whole lot more about what actually works. This makes giving much easier. Distance no longer needs to be the enemy of confidence. 

In fact, there is every reason to think globally, not just locally, about where to make a difference. As the world has become more and more connected, governments have retreated from global problems. For instance, official development assistance funds from Organisation for  Economic Cooperation and Development (OECD) countries dropped by a historic 23.1% in 2025. Now, we need new philanthropy to provide some balance in a world that is clearly out of balance.

Around 94% of American philanthropy is spent in the U.S. But the rest of the world is not just where the needs are greatest—from acute childhood malnutrition to violence against women—but where the gains from philanthropy can be greatest.

The 20 countries at greatest risk of a worsening humanitarian crisis, ranked by the International Rescue Committee (IRC) annually in our Emergency Watchlist, represent just 12% of the global population, but 90% of those in humanitarian need. In these places, led by regions like Sudan, Gaza, and South Sudan, children are three times more likely to die before their fifth birthday and 10 times more likely to grow up in extreme poverty than children born elsewhere. The people living here have done the least to contribute to climate change, but face the combined pressures of climate change and conflict—and receive the least support to adapt.  

If philanthropy and its “love of humanity” belong anywhere, it is these areas. And just in time, humanitarians have developed increasingly sophisticated tools to transform what we know about how to help people survive through and recover from crisis.  Real-time data, randomized controlled trials, cost-effectiveness and cost-efficiency analysis, plus predictive analytics, have transformed the evidence base and the basis for action.  

The IRC alone has conducted over 50 impact evaluations since 2020 as well as 500 cost analyses, allowing us to measure not simply whether an intervention works, but how much it costs and how much further each additional dollar can go. So we don't need to be daunted by the big numbers highlighting the 43 million children who are acutely malnourished, the 20 million kids without full immunization, over 300 million people hungry, and hundreds of thousands of women dying in childbirth in fragile states alone. These are problems that we actually know how to solve at manageable, in fact low, cost.

For example, we have learned how to deliver vaccine shots—40 million of them—at just $2 a shot in places like Somalia, South Sudan, and Yemen, negotiating with armed groups along the way to get access to populations otherwise cut off from healthcare.  This offers lifelong benefit, not just a short-term palliative.

We’ve shown how local health workers can more simply diagnose and treat acute malnutrition directly in communities where crisis-affected children live. This approach offers a 92% recovery rate, and earlier interventions can catch malnutrition before it becomes severe. The result is that we are 20% more cost-effective, allowing us to help more kids for the same amount of money.  

There are more examples. We've demonstrated that violence against women and violence against kids can be reduced by over 70% when they are tackled together. We have also proven the benefits of giving aid in advance of climate disasters, not just in reaction to them: in Afghanistan, our clients were three times less likely to fall further into poverty. 

Of course, the contexts stricken by war and state failure are challenging. But that makes the philanthropic imperative towards the people who live there all the more urgent.

The same technology that is delivering fortunes in Silicon Valley can also deliver help to the least fortunate. IRC’s global digital helpdesk, Signpost, has reached 20 million people forced to flee crisis in 12 languages with timely, life-saving information. Leading tech companies helped us develop it.  In Somalia, IRC teams employed anticipatory action ahead of last year’s devastating drought, a disaster that typically drives cholera outbreaks. Again, it took partnership of financial support, technical know-how, and NGO savvy.

In all these areas, the traditional aid system is falling short.  Too often, climate and humanitarian systems work in separate silos. Despite the evidence, less than 1% of aid is invested in anticipatory action. Every government donor has its own bureaucracy, with different reporting systems, compliance requirements, and measurement metrics. 

This is the syndrome that philanthropy can help break. By focusing on what works, measuring what counts, and investing in innovation. The risk does not lie in action; it lies in inertia. 

We know more than ever about what works in humanitarian crises, and we have new tools capable of extending those gains. The opportunity for this generation of philanthropists is not simply to give more. It is to take what we have learned and apply it where the stakes are highest. The real test isn't how much they give. It’s where.

In 2024, two Michigan high school students were sitting in the bleachers during a student-teacher basketball game when their physical education teacher collapsed from cardiac arrest. They had both recently learned cardiopulmonary resuscitation (CPR) at a career-focused technical nursing center and rushed to help, beginning chest compressions and using an automated external defibrillator (AED) before emergency responders arrived. 

Thanks to their actions, their teacher survived, and is one of approximately 350,000 Americans who experience an out-of-hospital cardiac arrest each year. Roughly nine out of ten will not survive. 

We often describe the difference between life and death as a matter of speed: how quickly emergency services arrive and how fast a hospital can intervene. But in reality, cardiac arrest outcomes often depend on whether someone nearby begins CPR in the first few minutes, which rarely belong to emergency responders, but instead to whomever is standing closest: a classmate, teacher, stranger at a basketball game, or someone waiting for a train. Every minute without CPR sharply reduces the chances the patient will live long enough to reach a hospital.

Schools occupy a special role in public health. As a location most Americans pass through and one of the only places they may ever encounter CPR training, a high school classroom may be the best opportunity to prepare the next generation of lifesavers. 

Schools already rehearse fire drills and lockdown drills for dangers that are statistically rare. Cardiac arrest is the reverse: far more common, and far less rehearsed. CPR skills can save lives years down the road when a cardiac arrest occurs at home, in a gym, at an airport, or at a university. Harnessing that opportunity requires both the resources to teach CPR effectively and the policies to ensure every student has the chance to learn it.

In Europe, Belgium, Denmark, France, Italy, Norway, Portugal, and England implemented school CPR education through national requirements or curriculum standards. Denmark offers a clear example of the positive impact. From 2001 to 2010, as Denmark introduced nationwide resuscitation initiatives including mandatory school CPR education, bystander CPR rates more than doubled, while 30-day survival after out-of-hospital cardiac arrest more than tripled.

A central challenge is how to implement CPR training at scale. The international KIDS SAVE LIVES initiative offers a practical blueprint. Endorsed by the World Health Organization, it calls for recurring, age-appropriate basic life support education beginning in childhood. Research from the International Liaison Committee on Resuscitation shows children can learn the early links in the chain of survival from the young age of 4, perform effective chest compressions by age 12, and pass skills to family members and others.

Some may hesitate to perform CPR because of legal concerns over causing injury—like rib fractures—while administering CPR, but every state has Good Samaritan laws providing protections to people who render emergency aid in good faith. A 30-year review of U.S. litigation across all 50 states from 1989 to 2019 found no cases in which a layperson who provided CPR was held liable for causing harm. 

The U.S. has also made significant progress in bringing CPR education into schools. In 1984, Alabama became the first state to require CPR instruction for high school graduation. Over the four decades since, communities have taken different approaches to bring CPR into the classroom. In West Virginia and Alaska, educators’ unions formally backed legislation requiring CPR education, while efforts in Washington and Illinois advanced in memory of students lost to cardiac arrest.

Today, 43 states require some form of CPR education before high school graduation. California, Colorado, Hawaii, Massachusetts, Nebraska, New Hampshire, and Wyoming are the seven that remain. Several are already taking steps to expand CPR education. Massachusetts invested $425,000 to expand CPR education in public schools, while Colorado includes hands-on CPR and AED instruction in its statewide health education guidelines but stops short of requiring schools to provide it. California Gov. Gavin Newsom recently signed a resolution directing the Instructional Quality Commission to include high school CPR in the state’s next health curriculum framework. San Francisco is taking an even broader approach, with paramedics and firefighters working to train 100,000 community members in CPR.

There is evidence that laws can translate into lifesaving action. A study of nearly 300,000 out-of-hospital cardiac arrests across 20 states found that patients had 12% higher odds of receiving bystander CPR in states with high school CPR education laws than those without them.

Other lifesaving education efforts can also offer a roadmap. In Georgia, Wesley’s Law, championed by Laura and Larry Gay after their son’s death, required public schools to stock overdose-reversal medication such as naloxone. In 2025, the state launched an opioid-settlement-funded initiative to provide overdose-reversal kits to public schools statewide, along with training resources for staff. In Indiana, emergency-response professionals helped expand Stop the Bleed training in schools, and the state’s Secured School Safety Grant program now offers funding for school bleeding-control programs and kits.

Both examples demonstrate how local champions and an existing source of funding can help turn a lifesaving idea into reality. Broadening collaboration among organizations such as the American Medical Association, American Red Cross, Project ADAM, and American Heart Association can also help expand CPR education nationwide.

After Buffalo Bills safety Damar Hamlin suffered cardiac arrest on the field in 2023, he became a leading advocate for the bipartisan HEARTS Act, which Congress passed unanimously in 2024. President Biden signed it into law later that year, supporting schools in expanding access to AEDs, CPR and AED education, and cardiac emergency response planning.

Cardiac arrest does not wait for emergency responders. The students who stepped forward when their teacher collapsed playing basketball in Michigan illustrate what becomes possible when CPR skills are taught before they are needed. Someday, every high school student in the U.S. could graduate prepared to step up and become a lifesaver.