You Don’t Have to Like Elon Musk to Value What He Builds

Society benefits from extraordinary innovators, even when their personalities make them difficult to tolerate.

Last Thursday, Tesla demonstrated a prototype Roadster capable of briefly flying through the air. Elon Musk’s AI company, now part of SpaceX, recently introduced Grok Bot, autonomous agents that run on a shared persistent cloud computer and that can collaborate with one another and execute scheduled tasks in users’ apps while they are offline.

Meanwhile, SpaceX continues developing Starship, the largest rocket ever built, with the ambition of making space travel cheaper and more routine.

On Friday, Alex Gibney’s nearly four-hour documentary, Musk, opened nationwide. The film presents Musk as a deeply flawed man whose wealth and power have become dangerous. There is plenty of evidence for the first part of that judgment. But the documentary raises a larger question. How much offensiveness should society tolerate from people who push the technological frontier forward?

My answer is quite a lot.

Musk insults journalists, politicians, and critics. He promotes conspiracy theories, makes extravagant promises, and sometimes treats employees harshly. His interventions in politics have alienated former admirers, including environmentalists who once championed Tesla. His management of X has angered advertisers and free-speech advocates alike. His involvement with the Department of Government Efficiency antagonized many, and government auditors questioned its claimed savings. He can be arrogant, impulsive, vindictive, juvenile, and spectacularly rude.

But Musk’s failings should be weighed against his contributions to human progress.

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Consider SpaceX. When Musk founded the company in 2002, rockets were largely disposable. SpaceX developed boosters that could land and fly again, helping reduce the cost of reaching orbit and enabling more frequent launches. Its Dragon spacecraft restored America’s ability to launch astronauts from U.S. soil after the space shuttle program was retired. Its Falcon rockets transformed the satellite-launch industry. Starship could eventually make it possible to transport much larger payloads at lower cost, opening new opportunities for scientific research, manufacturing, and exploration.

Perhaps SpaceX’s most consequential achievement for ordinary people is Starlink. By the end of 2025, the satellite internet service had more than 9 million customers across more than 155 countries and markets. In remote communities where laying fiber-optic cables is prohibitively expensive, Starlink provides access to online education, telemedicine, banking, and commerce. Rural schools in Alaska have used it to improve educational access. After Hurricane Helene devastated parts of the American Southeast in 2024, emergency responders deployed Starlink terminals to restore communications.

In Ukraine, Starlink and its military counterpart, Starshield, have been especially important. Russian attacks destroyed or disrupted much of the country’s communications infrastructure. Satellite connections helped Ukrainian soldiers coordinate operations, operate drones, and communicate with commanders. Civilians also benefited from access to the internet when conventional networks failed.

The recent restrictions on Ukraine’s Starshield service illustrate the dangers of relying heavily on a single provider, as Musk has blamed the disruption on the White House and reporting over the weekend suggested it was Musk’s idea. Such uncertainty strengthens the case for competition and clear rules governing essential infrastructure. It also demonstrates just how valuable the underlying technology has become.

Musk’s contribution to electric vehicles has been similarly consequential. He did not invent the electric car, joining Tesla after its 2003 founding. But he helped transform electric vehicles from a niche product into a serious competitor to gasoline-powered automobiles. Before Tesla, EVs were often viewed as slow or purely utilitarian. By prioritizing high performance, cutting-edge technology, and sleek design, Musk helped make electric cars highly desirable and genuinely “cool.” Established automakers responded with massive investments of their own. Because of this massive shift in consumer demand and industry standards, it is fair to argue that Musk has done more than any other individual to accelerate the global transition away from the internal combustion engine. Tesla also helped advance battery technology and large-scale electricity storage.

Neuralink, Musk’s neurotechnology company, is developing implantable brain-computer interfaces designed to translate neural activity into digital commands. By using thousands of microscopic electrodes surgically implanted into the brain, the device has recently enabled individuals with severe paralysis to control computers, move cursors, and play video games using only their thoughts. While the technology remains experimental, its potential medical benefits, such as restoring communication, mobility, and independence for patients with severe neurological conditions, are considerable.

Not every Musk venture will succeed. Grok Bot remains an emerging technology. The flying Roadster is an engineering demonstration rather than a practical transportation solution. Starship faces substantial technical challenges. Musk’s ambitious timelines have often proved unreliable. Yet technological progress requires people willing to attempt things that others consider impractical.

Musk did not personally invent every technology associated with his companies. But he helped assemble the engineers, capital, factories, and organizations needed to make difficult technologies work at scale.

History provides useful parallels.

Thomas Edison was combative, fiercely competitive, and sometimes ruthless. During the battle over competing electrical systems, he backed animal electrocutions to demonstrate the supposed dangers of alternating current. Yet his work on practical electric lighting, sound recording, and industrial research helped transform modern life.

Henry Ford was a notorious antisemite who promoted conspiracy theories through his publications. Yet his application of mass-production techniques brought automobile ownership within reach of ordinary Americans. The price of a Model T fell from $850 in 1908 to $260 by 1925. Ford helped democratize personal mobility. Furthermore, his perfection of the moving assembly line revolutionized global manufacturing. By establishing a blueprint for unprecedented efficiency, Ford’s methods were quickly adopted beyond the automotive sector, driving massive productivity gains and transforming industrial production worldwide. Perhaps paradoxically, the assembly line helped the Allies defeat Hitler by turning America into the arsenal of democracy.

Steve Jobs was famously demanding and could be cruel to colleagues. His perfectionism made him difficult to work with. Yet he helped bring personal computers, smartphones, and other transformative technologies to mass markets.

None of these examples proves that unpleasantness causes innovation. Many disagreeable people accomplish nothing, and many important innovators are personally decent. But the historical pattern raises an uncomfortable possibility. Some characteristics that make innovators successful also make them difficult to get along with.

Psychological research lends support to that possibility. In a 1998 meta-analysis, psychologist Gregory Feist found that highly creative people tended to be more open to new experiences, less conventional, more independent, more self-confident, and more ambitious than their peers. They also showed higher levels of hostility and impulsivity. The research concerned scientific and artistic creativity rather than entrepreneurs specifically, but it suggests that creativity and social agreeableness do not always travel together.

Here lies the real trade-off.

We would prefer brilliant innovators who are modest, considerate, politically inoffensive, and easy to supervise. Some undoubtedly fit that description. But if the psychological traits associated with exceptional creativity sometimes accompany arrogance, impulsiveness, and hostility to convention, society cannot assume that it can select for the former while eliminating the latter.

A society that places a high premium on conformity, deference, and social approval may discourage some of the very people most willing to challenge established technologies and institutions. The price could be slower innovation, fewer experiments, and delayed benefits for everyone else.

That does not mean suspending ordinary standards of behavior. Musk should be held accountable for violations of the law, misleading claims, and genuine harms caused by his decisions. His companies should face competition and the same legal obligations as their rivals.

But there is a difference between enforcing standards of conduct and expecting that innovators possess socially acceptable personalities. We should be especially reluctant to turn personal dislike or political disagreement into a reason to dismiss their achievements or obstruct legitimate enterprise.

That matters because innovation creates benefits that extend far beyond the innovator. Cheaper access to space helps researchers and entrepreneurs who will never meet Musk. Better batteries help consumers who will never own a Tesla. Satellite communications serve people whose lives may depend on reliable connections. Competitors imitate successful technologies and improve upon them. The resulting gains can continue accumulating for generations.

Of course, other entrepreneurs might eventually have developed many of these technologies. The question is how quickly. Bringing useful innovations to market years or decades earlier creates substantial value. Those gains should count when we evaluate the people responsible.

Gibney is entitled to criticize Musk’s character, conduct, and exercise of power. But the documentary’s emphasis on his failings risks obscuring the extraordinary advances he has helped bring about.

I would prefer a Musk who was more considerate, more restrained, and less inclined to insult everyone who disagrees with him. But I cannot assume that the same man, stripped of his unconventional temperament, would have pursued the same extraordinarily difficult ambitions with the same determination.

The real choice is therefore not between praising Musk and condemning him. We can do both. It is whether society remains willing to accommodate difficult, unconventional people whose talents can produce enormous benefits for everyone else.

This article first appeared in The Dispatch on 10/20/2026.