The ascent to power often acts as a mirror, reflecting not just the strength of the victor, but the vulnerability of those standing in his shadow. According to the upcoming book Regime Change by Maggie Haberman and Jonathan Swan, the aftermath of the 2024 presidential election saw an unprecedented shift in the landscape of American influence. As Donald Trump prepared to re-assume the presidency, the titans of Silicon Valley—men who had once been titans of industry—found themselves caught in a frantic, almost desperate dance to win his approval. The accounts detailed in the book paint a startling picture of a power dynamic where the world’s most successful technology moguls seemingly traded their dignity for a seat at the table, only to find that their efforts were met with derision rather than mutual respect.
The most jarring examples of this behavior involve Meta CEO Mark Zuckerberg and Amazon founder Jeff Bezos. These were not merely professional overtures; they were deeply personal displays of deference. Zuckerberg, perhaps seeking to soften the historical friction between his platform and the Trump campaign, went as far as sharing a handwritten letter from his own young child. In this note, the child praised a “golden age of America,” echoing the precise political rhetoric Trump employed on the campaign trail. It was a calculated, humanizing attempt to build rapport, yet the reception was far from the warm embrace Zuckerberg might have hoped for. Instead, the gesture was effectively reduced to a prop in Trump’s social circle—a source of amusement used to demonstrate the lengths to which business leaders would go to seek his favor.
Bezos’s strategy, by contrast, seemed to lean into the transactional nature of his relationship with the presidency. During an encounter at Mar-a-Lago, the Amazon founder reportedly distanced himself from his own media outlet, The Washington Post, characterizing it as a disastrous financial investment. It was a bizarre, self-deprecating pivot meant to align himself with the president’s well-known animosity toward the press. This attempt to court favor continued through digital means, including sharing personal selfies with his partner, Lauren Sánchez. For an individual who has navigated decades of political history, these actions underscore a pragmatic, if stark, willingness to abandon traditional distance in favor of maintaining proximity to the singular gravitational force of the new administration.
Yet, perhaps the most revealing element of the narrative is how little these efforts succeeded in silencing Trump’s underlying contempt. Behind closed doors, while his guests enjoyed the hospitality of his club, Trump reportedly delighted in holding his visitors up to ridicule. He regaled associates with tales of these tech giants “kissing his ass,” framing their sudden pivot not as a constructive embrace of a new administration, but as a total moral surrender. In conversations with Elon Musk—who, for his part, seemed to relish the humiliation of his rivals—Trump frequently compared the current state of affairs to 2016, pointing out how these same men had once moved mountains to undermine him. Hearing his peers called out for “first-class groveling” provided a sense of dark satisfaction to those in Trump’s inner circle who had long watched from the outside.
There is a profound irony in these interactions: the men who built the digital infrastructure of modern communication appeared unable to calculate the human cost of their own subservience. By trying so hard to rewrite their own histories with the president, they inadvertently handed him the very leverage he sought. When Zuckerberg visited shortly after Thanksgiving, he was greeted by the playing of the “J6 Prison Choir” national anthem—a deeply charged, symbolic choice that signaled who truly held the power in the room. By centering these moments in their reporting, Haberman and Swan strip away the veneer of corporate power, revealing a transactional landscape where, despite their billions, the captains of industry were ultimately treated like supplicants in a court that cared little for their titles.
Ultimately, the stories shared in Regime Change offer a grim lesson on the nature of American power in the 21st century. While spokespeople for the Trump administration insist on a commitment to economic growth and innovation, the reality behind the scenes suggests a much more visceral game of cat and mouse. Whether this behavior is viewed as necessary political navigation or a cautionary tale of hubris, it is clear that the 2024 election cycle fundamentally altered the relationship between the governing state and the tech sector. These moguls wanted to be part of the “golden age,” but in their haste to secure their place, they discovered that in Trump’s world, the currency of power is not just policy or wealth—it is the pleasure of watching the mighty humble themselves at his feet.
