What will Elon Do

What Elon Will Do

Merging Visionary Leadership with Crisis Mastery – Lessons from Elon Musk

Chapter 1: Shoot for Mars – Leading with Mission and Vision

Elon Musk builds companies around grand, almost implausible missions. Whether it’s making humanity a “multi-planet species” via SpaceX or accelerating the transition to sustainable energy at Tesla, Musk’s ventures are anchored by ambitious visions. These defining purposes are not mere slogans – they serve as North Stars guiding every decision and rallying teams during tumultuous times. Musk famously was “shocked” to discover in 2001 that NASA had no concrete plan to go to Mars, spurring him to start SpaceX with the lofty goal of enabling human life on other planets. Similarly, he wrote in Tesla’s master plan that “the overarching purpose of Tesla…is to help expedite the move from a mine-and-burn hydrocarbon economy towards a solar electric economy”. By publicly committing to such sweeping objectives, Musk sets a tone of vision-driven leadership from day one.

Elon Musk, CEO of Tesla, at the company's Fremont factory (left) alongside a Tesla Model S (right). Musk’s ventures are driven by big missions – from popularizing electric cars to colonizing Mars – and his leadership continually reinforces these visions.

This mission-first mindset has practical effects on how Musk leads under pressure. Because the goals are so inspiring and consequential, they become a source of resilience for him and his teams when crises hit. For example, in 2008 Musk was under immense strain – SpaceX’s first three rockets had failed and Tesla was bleeding cash – yet he didn’t quit. Why? He believed “it’s important that humanity become a multi-planet species,” and that a future of spacefaring civilization was “inspiring and exciting” compared to stagnation. That core belief fueled his persistence even when both companies were on the brink (as we’ll see in later chapters). Musk’s obsession with the “why” behind each venture provides a well of motivation that he and his employees draw from in the darkest moments. Employees often recount that Musk will remind everyone why they’re doing what they do – not just making cars or rockets, but saving the planet or ensuring the long-term survival of humanity. This almost missionary zeal instills a sense of higher purpose. It’s not hyperbole to say Musk leads as if the fate of the world rests on his projects – because in his mind, it often does.

But a compelling vision alone is not enough; Musk communicates it relentlessly and concretely. He doesn’t just articulate abstract ideals – he sets clear, hard goals that symbolize the vision. For SpaceX, it was “we must get to orbit, and then to Mars.” For Tesla: “we must build a compelling electric car that makes gasoline cars obsolete.” In 2012, after SpaceX succeeded in launching its Dragon capsule to orbit and back, Musk explicitly framed it in historic terms: it was “the first time a private company had launched and recovered its own spacecraft”, a step toward making space travel as routine as air travel. By tying day-to-day achievements to the overarching mission, Musk keeps his team’s eyes on the prize. This visionary storytelling helps people see crises and sacrifices in context – production delays or test failures are bumps on the road to a transformative destination. In Musk’s leadership playbook, painting an inspiring vision is the first step in preparing an organization to endure and overcome any crisis on the path toward that vision.

Chapter 2: Burn the Boats – Elon’s All-In Strategy

In the legendary exhortation “burn the boats,” a military commander destroys his army’s ships upon reaching enemy shores – leaving no option of retreat and forcing total commitment. Elon Musk has employed a similar all-in strategy in business, time and again putting every resource on the line to achieve victory or die trying. Former colleagues observed that Musk “amplif[ied] risk and [burned] the boats so we could never retreat”, earning a reputation as “the man who didn’t understand the meaning of the word ‘risk’.”. Unlike more cautious entrepreneurs, Musk seems to deliberately leave himself no fallback. This strategy, while harrowing, has galvanized his teams to accomplish things considered impossible by outsiders.

One dramatic example came after Musk sold PayPal in 2002. He suddenly had a fortune of roughly $180 million – enough to “retire” comfortably. Instead, Musk poured every penny into his new ventures. “My proceeds from the PayPal acquisition were $180m. I put $100m in SpaceX, $70m in Tesla, and $10m in SolarCity. I had to borrow money to pay my rent,” Musk later recounted. This was essentially a personal all-or-nothing bet on two unproven startups (and a solar project) that many thought were long shots. By 2008, that bold wager brought both companies to the brink of bankruptcy – but it also meant Musk was maximally invested in finding a way to save them (as we will see). There was no Plan B. This high-stakes approach sends a clear message to employees and investors: Musk believes in the mission so deeply he’s willing to risk it all, and he expects everyone to operate with the same do-or-die intensity.

Musk’s all-in mentality showed up not just in funding but in personal risk-taking and decisions. At one point, he famously walked away from a lucrative early deal with investors because it would have reduced his stake and perhaps his control – he would rather risk total failure on his own terms than settle for partial success under compromised vision. Former PayPal executive Roelof Botha noted that Musk would floor it and see how fast it goes, much like when Musk wrecked his McLaren supercar by pushing it to the limit. The same attitude translated to business gambles. Peter Thiel remarked that launching SpaceX and Tesla simultaneously were “incredibly crazy bets” by Silicon Valley standards – “two companies everyone thought couldn’t possibly work” – yet Musk put all his chips on the table for both. By refusing to spread risk or “take chips off the table,” Musk creates a powerful psychological commitment within his companies: failure is unthinkable because everything is riding on success.

This strategy nearly broke Musk in 2008 – a year he later called “the worst year of my life” – but it also led to miraculous saves that have become company lore. By late 2008, SpaceX had spent almost all of Musk’s $100 million and had three failed rocket launches. Tesla was also nearly out of cash after delays with its first Roadster car. Musk later admitted waking up one Sunday that December thinking he was close to a nervous breakdown. He had essentially burned his boats: there were no reserves left. In his words, “We were running on fumes at that point… a fourth failure would have been absolutely game over. Done.”. In other words, one more rocket explosion would kill SpaceX, and Tesla was only weeks from folding as well. This do-or-die scenario forced extraordinary focus and ingenuity. Against the odds, SpaceX’s fourth Falcon 1 launch on September 28, 2008 succeeded – reaching orbit and making history as the first private liquid-fueled rocket to do so. Then, in an almost cinematic turn of events, lifelines arrived: On December 23, 2008, NASA awarded SpaceX a $1.6 billion contract, prompting Musk to exclaim on the call, “I love you guys!”. That contract “saved” SpaceX from collapse, as Musk freely admits. Just two days later – on Christmas Eve – Tesla’s investors agreed to inject last-minute funding to keep Tesla afloat. In the span of 72 hours, both companies were rescued from certain death. “Merry Christmas,” as one observer quipped to Musk.

Surviving that 2008 crucible validated Musk’s burn-the-boats philosophy. It sent a message to the world (and to Musk himself) that total commitment can yield extraordinary results, even if you flirt with disaster along the way. Musk emerged from that saga with a kind of daredevil credibility. As venture capitalist Reid Hoffman put it, “He has a level of certainty that causes him to put all of his chips on the table… He’s amazingly successful getting people to march across a desert.” When Musk goes all in, people follow, driven by his sheer conviction. Of course, this strategy is not for the faint of heart – it demands tolerance for stress and uncertainty. But Musk’s career shows that playing it safe never leads to radical breakthroughs. By “burning the boats” – eliminating escape routes and secondary plans – Musk ensures that his only way out is forward, toward ambitious success. It is high-risk leadership, but for Musk it has yielded high reward and forged a team culture that doesn’t flinch in the face of impossible odds.

Chapter 3: First Principles – Rewriting the Rules

One of Musk’s signature leadership strategies is first-principles thinking – a problem-solving approach where you boil issues down to fundamental truths and reason up from there, instead of following conventional assumptions. Musk often complains that people’s thinking is “too bound by convention or analogy to prior experiences”. In his view, “the normal way we conduct our lives is we reason by analogy… (but) I think it’s important to reason from first principles.”. By questioning basic assumptions in engineering, finance, or any domain, Musk has repeatedly unlocked innovative solutions and defied industry norms.

A classic Musk anecdote illustrating first-principles reasoning is how he tackled the high cost of battery packs for Tesla. In the mid-2000s, batteries for electric cars were extremely expensive (around $600 per kilowatt-hour) and it was widely accepted that they’d always be costly. Musk refused to accept this premise. “Somebody could say, ‘Battery packs are really expensive and that’s just the way they will always be… Historically, it has cost $600 per kilowatt-hour,’” Musk said, outlining the typical analogy-based mindset. “With first principles, you say, ‘What are the material constituents of the batteries?… If we bought that on the London Metal Exchange, what would each of those things cost?’”. Musk listed out the raw materials – cobalt, nickel, aluminum, carbon, polymers, the metal can – and calculated that they actually only cost around $80/kWh in total. This fundamental insight was striking: the physics of a battery meant it should be far cheaper than everyone assumed. “So clearly,” as Musk dryly concluded, “you just need to think of clever ways to take those materials and combine them into the shape of a battery cell, and you can have batteries that are much, much cheaper than anyone realizes.”. Guided by this reasoning, Tesla engineered its own battery packs (using thousands of commodity lithium-ion cells initially) at dramatically lower cost than competitors thought possible. First principles thinking literally made electric cars viable, by undercutting a key cost barrier through raw analysis and creativity.

Musk applied the same approach with SpaceX. The aerospace industry long assumed that rockets cost tens or hundreds of millions of dollars each, because that’s what established contractors like Boeing and Lockheed charged. Musk, with no background in rockets, broke the problem down: what is a rocket made of? Aerospace-grade aluminum alloys, titanium, copper, carbon fiber, avionics, fuel. He estimated that the total raw material cost of a Falcon 1 rocket was only around 2–3% of the typical price of a launch vehicle. In other words, by building rockets from scratch and vertically integrating, SpaceX could potentially cut costs by a huge margin. This was a heretical idea in the early 2000s, but by rethinking rocketry from physics up, Musk’s team created Falcon 1 and later Falcon 9 at a fraction of historical costs. Indeed, by 2010 SpaceX’s Falcon 9 had become the first privately-developed rocket to reach orbit and return a capsule, demonstrating low-cost design with mostly in-house manufacturing. SpaceX would go on to revolutionize the industry with reusable rockets, another concept born of first principles (why throw a rocket away after one use, when airplanes are reused thousands of times?). Musk reasoned that if the engines and primary structure could be recovered and refilled, the cost per launch could drop by an order of magnitude – a hypothesis now being proven with each Falcon booster landing.

First-principles thinking under Musk isn’t limited to engineering – it seeps into how he structures organizations and challenges norms in business. For instance, Tesla broke the mold by selling cars directly online and through company-owned stores, bypassing the traditional dealership model. This was highly unconventional (and even illegal in some states due to dealership franchise laws), but Musk viewed it from scratch: if the goal is to get people in great electric cars efficiently, why rely on a third-party dealer system invented decades ago for gasoline cars? Today, Tesla’s direct sales and online ordering are becoming a new industry paradigm. Similarly, Musk questioned why a factory needed to be a certain way – leading Tesla to build the Gigafactory, one of the world’s largest battery plants, to produce batteries at unprecedented scale (reducing cost per unit via basic economies of scale, akin to Henry Ford’s assembly line logic applied to batteries).

Within SpaceX and Tesla engineering teams, Musk constantly pushes for simplification and optimization from first principles. One favorite mantra he’s instilled is: “The best part is no part. The best process is no process.” In other words, the most efficient design is one that eliminates unnecessary components and steps entirely. Engineers are urged to justify each part or process from fundamentals – if it doesn’t serve a critical function, remove it. This led, for example, to dramatically simplified rocket engine designs and car interiors. It’s not uncommon for Musk to walk the factory floor and challenge an engineer: “Why do we even need this widget? What if we just don’t have it?” If the engineer doesn’t have a physics-based explanation, Musk may insist on cutting it out. As he put it in an interview, “I have another thing which is, the best part is no part… It weighs nothing, costs nothing, can’t go wrong.”. This ruthless simplification ethos – grounded in first principles rather than how industry has always done it – has led to breakthroughs like the single-piece casting of the Model Y frame (replacing dozens of welded parts with one giant casting) and the dramatically fewer parts in SpaceX’s Starship compared to NASA’s past rockets.

The first-principles method does more than yield innovative products – it creates a culture of questioning assumptions. Musk encourages team members to never accept “because we’ve always done it that way” as an answer. Instead, he pushes them to dig down to the fundamental goal or constraint and rebuild the solution from there. This is challenging and sometimes frustrating for those who prefer tried-and-true methods, but it has allowed Musk’s relatively young companies to out-innovate established players. By leading through first principles, Musk essentially gives his teams permission to reimagine everything. Whether it’s the cost of a component, the timeline of a process, or a business model, nothing is sacred. That’s how SpaceX decided it could launch rockets far more frequently and cheaply (they questioned why rockets sat in hangars for months between launches). It’s how Tesla decided to create over-the-air software updates for cars (why should upgrading a car require a dealer visit, instead of updating like a laptop?).

In sum, Musk’s leadership by first principles is a powerful tool in crisis management and high-stakes decisions. When standard approaches aren’t good enough to achieve a bold goal, Musk goes back to basics and encourages his team to find a fundamentally better way. This often means ignoring the wisdom of industry veterans – something Musk has been criticized for – but his track record shows that fresh eyes and foundational thinking can solve “unsolvable” problems. As a leader, Musk thus acts as a chief philosopher-engineer, constantly steering conversations toward “What is the goal? What are the physics or economics telling us? Okay, now let’s innovate from there.” It’s a mindset that has enabled Tesla and SpaceX to set new benchmarks (from battery cost per kWh to cost per rocket flight) and to manage crises by inventing around obstacles. Musk doesn’t just break the rules – he writes new ones, from scratch.

Chapter 4: Failure Is an Option – Embracing Risk and Resilience

Silicon Valley folklore often celebrates failure as a stepping stone to success. Elon Musk takes this to an extreme – in his companies, failure is not just tolerated, but in some cases expected as the price of innovation. Under Musk’s leadership, setbacks are treated as learning fuel rather than verdicts of defeat. This attitude, coupled with Musk’s personal resilience, has enabled Tesla and SpaceX to bounce back from major crises that might have sunk more timid organizations.

Perhaps nowhere is Musk’s embrace of failure more evident than at SpaceX in its early years. When Musk started the company, he knew SpaceX would need several attempts to successfully launch a rocket to orbit. Rather than concealing that or treating a crash as disgrace, he openly framed failures as part of the process. Indeed, SpaceX’s first three launch attempts from 2006 to 2008 all failed – rockets blew up or fell short – nearly exhausting the company’s funds. In many organizations, three high-profile failures (with accompanying multimillion-dollar losses) would trigger panic, blame, and project cancellation. At SpaceX, Musk doubled down. After the third failure, when asked if he thought about giving up, Musk replied emphatically, “Never.” Why? “I don’t ever give up. I mean, I’d have to be dead or completely incapacitated.”. This now-famous line, delivered in a 2012 60 Minutes interview, epitomizes Musk’s personal resolve. Even as failure piled on failure, Musk refused to see it as defeat – only as a reason to try again. He literally bet the company’s last remaining cash on a fourth launch attempt, which succeeded. Musk later reflected that if that fourth launch hadn’t worked, SpaceX would have died. But crucially, he was willing to take it to that brink. His absolute refusal to quit set the tone: everyone at SpaceX knew that unless you are dead or incapacitated, you keep going. That relentlessness has since carried SpaceX through other setbacks (engine explosions, rocket crashes) to ultimately achieve feats like routine booster landings that were once deemed impossible.

Musk fosters a culture where engineers are encouraged to “fail forward.” At SpaceX’s development facility in Texas, for example, the Starship rocket prototypes have undergone a series of dramatic test launches where several exploded in succession. Rather than treating those as disasters, Musk celebrated the progress – each explosive landing taught them something new for the next iteration. After one Starship crashed in a fireball in 2020, Musk tweeted congratulations to the team, highlighting how they got all the way to the landing pad and just needed small tweaks for next time. This mirrors a motto he purportedly drilled into early staff: “Failure is an option here. If things are not failing, you are not innovating enough.” In other words, if everything is going perfectly, you’re probably moving too slowly or playing it too safe.

At Tesla, failures tend to be more private than a rocket explosion, but Musk has had his share of product snafus and near-misses and has responded similarly – with rapid correction rather than recrimination. When the first batch of Tesla Roadsters in 2007–2008 had significant problems (transmission failures, cost overruns), Musk famously removed the original founder as CEO and took over, essentially saying: we’ll fix it ourselves. It was a turbulent transition, but Tesla got past those early engineering issues and delivered the Roadster, albeit behind schedule. Years later, during the Model S launch in 2012–2013, a few high-profile car battery fires occurred after accidents. The media turned this into a crisis about EV safety. Musk’s response was swift and multifaceted: Tesla pushed an over-the-air software update to adjust ride height for safety, offered to amend warranties to cover fire incidents, and Musk himself wrote a detailed blog post comparing the odds of a Tesla fire to the far higher odds of gasoline car fires. He noted that quarter-million gasoline car fires occur in the US each year (with hundreds of deaths), whereas Tesla had zero deaths and only a few fires. By reframing the incidents with data, Musk turned a potential failure of trust into a story of Tesla’s superior safety. And importantly, he did not halt the Model S program or recall the cars in panic; he treated it as a problem to solve and an opportunity to improve the product (later adding a titanium underbody shield to further protect the battery). Transparency, prompt action, and refusal to panic – those were Musk’s tools in handling the crisis. The result: public confidence was maintained and Model S sales kept growing.

Musk’s personal resilience in face of adversity also sets an example that permeates his companies. During the grueling ramp-up of Model 3 production in 2017–2018 (which Musk dubbed “production hell”), he was under extraordinary stress – at one point sleeping on a makeshift couch or directly on the factory floor for weeks, trying to fix automation bottlenecks. He later confessed, “There were times when I was working literally 120 hours a week… This is not good. People should not work this hard. ... I just did it because if I didn’t do it, then [there was a] good chance Tesla would die.”. This quote is striking: Musk acknowledges the pain (“It hurts, it hurts my brain and my heart”) but also reveals his mindset – he was willing to endure extreme personal hardship as the cost to save his company. Seeing the CEO sleep at the factory and pull all-nighters sent a powerful signal to Tesla’s team: no one was going to outwork or outlast Elon in fighting for the company’s survival. And indeed, Tesla survived the production crisis. Musk later told an interviewer that Tesla came “within single-digit weeks” of running out of cash during that period, but they solved the problems just in time. By mid-2018, Model 3 production hit its targets and Tesla started generating profits. Musk’s resilience had pulled them through yet again.

Another illustrative story of Musk’s attitude toward failure involves how SpaceX handled a catastrophic rocket loss in 2016. A Falcon 9 exploded on the launch pad (the Amos-6 mission), destroying the rocket and satellite. Musk called it “the most difficult and complex failure we have ever had in 14 years.” Instead of retreating, SpaceX launched an exhaustive investigation – Musk even publicly asked “anyone with audio, photos or videos of our anomaly…please send to report@spacex.com”, crowdsourcing clues to determine the cause. This openness in the face of failure was unusual; most companies would keep a failure investigation under wraps. But Musk’s priority was learning and fixing the issue, not managing PR. He even entertained wild theories (at one point wondering if a rogue drone or sniper had caused the explosion). Ultimately, the cause was found (a faulty helium tank inside the rocket), and SpaceX returned to flight after implementing corrections. The key takeaway: Musk treated the failure like a puzzle to be solved, involving everyone – internal team, external experts, even the public – to prevent it from recurring. His reaction was not finger-pointing or hiding, but an almost scientific zeal to get to the root cause. This is a hallmark of Musk’s leadership: when something blows up, treat it as a problem to learn from, not a humiliation to hide.

Musk’s companies actually institutionalize this iterative, failure-embracing approach in their development processes. At SpaceX, they talk about “test, fail, fix, test again.” The Starship program’s rapid prototype cycle – where rockets are blown up on test stands and rebuilt quickly – is Musk’s philosophy in action. Traditional aerospace companies might spend years carefully designing to avoid any failure; SpaceX instead tests early and often, learning from failures to achieve reliability faster. It’s a Silicon Valley software mindset applied to hardware. And Musk defends it: “There’s a silly notion that failure is not an option at NASA,” he once said. “Failure is an option here. If you are not failing, you are not innovating.” His teams know that Musk will support them through failures as long as they are making progress and fixing issues – what he does not tolerate is failing to learn or being complacent.

The psychological impact of a leader who isn’t afraid of failure is significant. It creates a culture of bold experimentation. Engineers are more willing to propose unconventional ideas or attempt difficult tasks because they know a setback won’t lead to immediate punishment or cancellation of the project. This was evident in Tesla’s approach to Autopilot (self-driving technology) – they aggressively rolled out features via software updates, occasionally had to dial back or modify after real-world data showed flaws, but each time they improved the system. When an accident occurred involving Tesla’s Autopilot in 2016, Musk didn’t shelve the program; instead Tesla upgraded its neural network and sensors, continuing toward the goal of full self-driving. The company’s willingness to iterate in public, with all the scrutiny that entails, comes straight from Musk’s top-down encouragement that you only truly fail if you stop trying.

In summary, Musk’s leadership embraces failure as an essential ingredient in breakthrough success. He has demonstrated unflinching persistence (refusing to give up after multiple failures), rapid recovery (fixing problems and moving on without hesitation), and learning culture (making sure each failure teaches something). This mindset has steeled his organizations to handle crises that would cripple others. When you’ve been through three rocket explosions and nearly gone bankrupt twice, a bad quarter or a PR scandal doesn’t scare you as much. Musk has essentially inoculated his teams with resilience. As he famously said, “If something is important enough, you do it even if the odds are not in your favor.” That willingness to charge ahead in spite of likely failure – and then to treat failure as simply data – is a defining aspect of “the Musk way” of leadership.

Chapter 5: Into the Storm – Leading Under Pressure

At the height of a crisis, Elon Musk has a leadership style that can be described as all-hands-on-deck, intensely focused, and shockingly decisive. When his companies face dire challenges – whether it’s a production meltdown, a financial crunch, or an operational emergency – Musk dives into the trenches alongside his team and often demands the seemingly impossible to turn things around. This chapter examines how Musk leads when the pressure is highest, drawing on examples like Tesla’s “production hell,” the Twitter takeover chaos, and other emergencies.

One of the most revealing episodes was the Model 3 production ramp in 2017–2018. Musk himself called this period “production hell,” as Tesla struggled to automate its assembly line and was missing production targets quarter after quarter. The company was burning through cash, and Musk later admitted Tesla was “bleeding money like crazy… if we didn’t solve these problems in a very short period of time, we would die.”. In the summer of 2018, Tesla’s situation was so precarious that Musk considered it a “severe threat of death” for the company. How did he respond? By throwing himself personally at the problem 24/7. Musk literally moved into the Fremont factory. He slept on a couch or on the floor in a conference room adjacent to the assembly line, so he could be instantly available to troubleshoot. He famously joked that he had no time to go home or even shower regularly – but he wanted to suffer through the pain with his workers. This wasn’t performative; it was Musk’s way of leading by example. If the CEO is willing to sacrifice all comforts and work around the clock, it set the expectation that everyone needed to give their utmost effort. Tesla engineers recount how Musk would be everywhere – one moment in the “body shop” where car frames are welded, next in the “paint shop,” then at the end of the line inspecting finished cars.

Musk also took a very hands-on, problem-solving role during this crisis. He didn’t just cheerlead; he personally tackled bottlenecks. For example, Tesla’s battery module production line (which assembles battery cells into packs) was a major chokepoint that was performing poorly. Musk, having a strong engineering background, dove in and “personally redesigned the whole battery pack production line”, then “ran it for three weeks” to prove out the fixes. Imagine the CEO of a major auto company personally operating machinery on the factory floor – it’s virtually unheard of. But Musk’s view is that leadership means being the chief engineer when needed, regardless of titles. He has said that “90% of my day is spent on engineering and production”, especially in tough times. By personally re-engineering a process, Musk demonstrated both to his team and to skeptics that he was willing to get his hands dirty and that no problem was too technical or small for his attention.

This dive-in approach not only helped solve specific issues but also accelerated decision-making dramatically. In a crisis, Musk compresses the chain of command – often making calls on the spot. One Tesla manager described how if something was holding up production – say a part design – Musk would gather the responsible engineers in a room, hash out a solution in hours, and immediately green-light changes that might normally take weeks of meetings. His presence effectively eliminated bureaucracy. It could be intimidating (Musk is known to have a temper when confronted with what he views as incompetence or excuses), but it undeniably got things moving fast. In one instance, Tesla built an entire new general assembly line (GA4) under a tent outside the factory in mid-2018 to increase Model 3 output, a highly unorthodox move in automotive manufacturing. Musk championed this idea despite raised eyebrows, and indeed the “tent line” helped hit the production numbers. This kind of improvisational crisis measure is typical of Musk under pressure – he will try unusual solutions if it means saving time and achieving the goal.

Musk’s communication during a crunch also becomes extremely direct and urgent. He doesn’t sugarcoat the situation. During the Model 3 crunch he sent emails to all staff acknowledging the extreme challenges and asking for their dedication. Later he would reveal that Tesla had come within “single-digit weeks” of running out of money during that period, which implies he was likely transparent internally about how high the stakes were. Musk also isn’t afraid to make tough personnel decisions in a crisis. If a senior executive or a supplier isn’t delivering, Musk will cut them out, even mid-project. During the Model 3 ramp, there were reports of Musk firing a senior production manager on the spot when it became clear the automation under that manager wasn’t working. He then brought in new teams to simplify and speed up the line.

Perhaps one of the most dramatic examples of Musk’s wartime leadership style came not at Tesla or SpaceX, but during his takeover of Twitter (now X) in 2022. While Twitter wasn’t facing a technical manufacturing crisis, it was a company Musk had just acquired in a contentious deal, and he viewed it as a turnaround project in dire condition. The speed and severity of Musk’s actions shocked many, but they mirror how he handles any crisis: identify the biggest problems, and move decisively (even ruthlessly) to address them. Within days of taking over, Musk fired 50% of Twitter’s 7,500 employees, saying the company needed to cut costs immediately to survive. He then gave an ultimatum to the remaining staff: commit to a new “hardcore” work culture or leave. “Going forward, to build a breakthrough Twitter 2.0 and succeed in an increasingly competitive world, we will need to be extremely hardcore,” Musk wrote in a midnight email, “This will mean long hours at high intensity. Only exceptional performance will constitute a passing grade.”. He set a deadline for employees to click “Yes” on a form if they wanted to stay; those who didn’t were deemed to have resigned. This was an ultimatum rarely seen in corporate history, essentially Musk’s way of triaging who was on board with his high-intensity vision and who wasn’t. About a quarter to a third of the remaining staff chose to leave, but those who stayed presumably were aligned with Musk’s demands. Observers called the approach brutal, but Musk framed it as necessary surgery to reshape the company quickly. He was, in effect, applying the same principles he uses in a technical crisis: move fast, be clear about expectations, and remove obstacles (in this case, people who were not prepared to go “all-in”). In Musk’s view, a smaller team of true believers can move faster and manage a crisis better than a larger team of the uncommitted.

During this Twitter overhaul, Musk also personally engaged in the nitty-gritty. He reportedly joined late-night coding sessions with engineers, reviewing the tech stack to decide what features or services to cut. He held frequent all-hands meetings to answer questions (sometimes giving blunt or unsatisfying answers, but engaging directly nonetheless). At one point, after some engineers criticized him, he publicly fired them – a controversial move – but one that signaled he expected loyalty and alignment during the fragile turnaround period. Again, we see Musk’s crisis leadership involves tightening control and enforcing a singular focus. The company essentially refocused around Musk’s priorities: reducing bot spam, adding new subscription revenue (Twitter Blue), and reimagining the platform as “X, the everything app.” To push those through quickly, Musk showed zero hesitation in slashing roles, combining teams, and giving marching orders in a top-down fashion. This is quite opposite his behavior in stable times (where he might be more hands-off on daily Twitter operations), but in a crisis Musk becomes the de facto chief operator.

We’ve also seen Musk’s composure under external pressure – for instance, dealing with regulators or public crises. In spring 2020, when COVID-19 shutdowns forced Tesla’s Fremont factory to close, Musk became frustrated that Tesla couldn’t reopen while other U.S. factories were being allowed to. In a bold act of defiance, he reopened the factory against county orders, willing to face arrest. “Tesla is restarting production today against Alameda County rules,” he tweeted on May 11, 2020. “I will be on the line with everyone else. If anyone is arrested, I ask that it only be me.”. This public stance exemplifies Musk’s crisis persona: personally accountable, confrontational if he believes he’s right, and protective of his team. By saying he’d take the fall if authorities came, he was both standing up for his employees’ livelihoods and dramatizing the urgency he felt to get Tesla running. Ultimately, local officials backed down and allowed Tesla to operate, perhaps swayed by Musk’s willingness to put himself on the line. Musk’s leadership in that moment won admiration from some (employees who wanted to work and fans who saw it as principled courage) and criticism from others (those who thought it reckless). But there’s no doubt it was effective in achieving his goal. Musk has a knack for making bold, public moves in a crisis that reframe the narrative – in this case, casting himself as a champion for getting people back to work and focusing on what he deemed the bigger picture (Tesla’s contribution to the economy and national infrastructure).

In summary, Musk’s approach to leading under pressure is characterized by extreme ownership and extreme measures. He doesn’t hide in a boardroom; he immerses himself on the front lines. He communicates the stakes bluntly, whether to his workforce or the public. He makes rapid-fire decisions – sometimes cutting Gordian knots with a single stroke (like firing half the company or building a new assembly line in a tent). He works as hard or harder than anyone, demonstrating that no task is beneath him in pursuit of the solution. And he often shows personal bravery, whether it’s risking his reputation, fortune, or even arrest, to push through a crisis. This intense style can be chaotic and is not without controversy, but it has repeatedly helped Musk’s companies survive situations where slower or more conventional leadership might have failed. For those working under him in these storms, it’s undoubtedly exhausting – but many also find it inspiring to see a leader throw everything he has into saving the mission. Musk’s “into the storm” leadership proves the adage that leaders are truly tested (and defined) in a crisis. Under Elon Musk’s watch, crises become inflection points that, through sheer force of will and effort, turn into triumphs – or at least live to fight another day.

Chapter 6: Hardcore Culture – Demanding Excellence

Elon Musk’s companies are not easy places to work – and that’s by design. Musk has deliberately cultivated what one might call a “hardcore” culture within Tesla, SpaceX, and now X/Twitter. He believes that great achievements require extreme levels of effort, focus, and talent, and he’s unafraid to set extraordinarily high standards for his teams. This culture has its critics, but it has undeniably driven employees to achieve feats that others thought impossible. In this chapter, we’ll explore how Musk builds and enforces a culture of intensity and excellence.

Perhaps nothing captures Musk’s expectations better than an email he sent to Twitter employees in November 2022, days after he took control. In the middle of the night, employees received a message with the subject line “A fork in the road.” Musk wrote: “Going forward, to build a breakthrough Twitter 2.0 and succeed in an increasingly competitive world, we will need to be extremely hardcore. This will mean long hours at high intensity. Only exceptional performance will constitute a passing grade.”. He then gave employees a choice to opt-in to this culture or take severance. The phrasing was startlingly blunt – “extremely hardcore”, “long hours at high intensity”, “only exceptional performance”. But to anyone familiar with Musk’s management style, it was simply an explicit statement of what he’s always expected.

At SpaceX and Tesla, similar norms existed even if not put in those exact words. Musk himself works maniacal hours and he has often implied his employees should too. “There are way easier places to work, but nobody ever changed the world on 40 hours a week,” Musk tweeted in 2018, at the tail end of the Model 3 ordeal. He has suggested that 80-100 hour workweeks are often needed for truly revolutionary outcomes. Inside Tesla, it’s known that Musk admires employees who put in relentless effort and are available at all odd hours to solve problems. During critical projects, pulling overnight shifts or 7-day weeks is almost a badge of honor. Musk himself sometimes emails or tweets at 2 or 3 AM – and expects a response if it’s an urgent issue. This can create a “always on” pressure for those around him.

Beyond hours, Musk’s culture emphasizes intensity and speed. Work isn’t just about showing up long; it’s about working smart and fast. For example, Musk loathes bureaucracy and hierarchy that slows things down. In a leaked email to Tesla staff, he wrote that communication should not follow traditional chain of command if that’s slower. “Communication should travel via the shortest path necessary to get the job done, not through the ‘chain of command’,” Musk instructed. “Any manager who attempts to enforce chain of command communication… will soon find themselves working at another company. No kidding.”. He went on to empower anyone to talk to anyone else (including to him directly) to solve problems, saying employees “should consider yourself obligated to do so until the right thing happens”. This edict shows how Musk demands that everyone be solution-oriented and drop formalities or politeness in favor of action. In a Musk organization, if you see an issue and you know how to fix it, you’re expected to bulldoze through red tape to fix it – or you’ll face Musk’s ire. It’s intense, but it can be liberating for proactive employees who crave the freedom to make a difference. It also weeds out those managers who might be empire-building or gatekeeping information – Musk has no tolerance for that.

Another element of the hardcore culture is an almost fanatical pursuit of perfection and efficiency. Musk sets ambitious, borderline crazy goals, and then expects his team to meet them. When SpaceX was building Falcon 9, Musk reportedly set an internal goal to land a rocket booster back on Earth (for reusability) at a time when even his own engineers thought it was science fiction. But by articulating such big goals, he challenges the team to rise to the occasion. At Tesla, Musk would often promise the public features or timelines that were extremely aggressive (like saying Tesla would deliver a fully self-driving car by a certain year). Internally, these pronouncements acted like forcing functions – the team knew Elon had staked a claim, and they’d push themselves to try to make it real, even if ultimately timelines slipped. Critics call this “Musk time” – his deadlines often prove optimistic by a factor – but the effect is that far more gets done than if goals were modest. Musk once quipped: “If you give yourself 30 days to clean your house, it will take 30 days. If you give yourself 3 hours, it will take 3 hours.” He consistently gives his teams “3-hour” type deadlines on enormous tasks, forcing creativity and eliminating complacency.

Within Musk’s culture, exceptional talent is revered and poor performance is purged quickly. He has a well-known philosophy of hiring the absolute best engineers – people who are not just competent but truly gifted and driven. And once on board, even they are pushed further. Musk is known to personally conduct detailed technical interviews and grill candidates on minutiae (like asking an engineer to derive a formula or solve a puzzle on the spot) to ensure he’s getting brilliance and not just a good résumé. Conversely, Musk has little patience for underperformers. He has, on many occasions, fired employees in a snap when he concluded they weren’t up to the task or were creating negativity. An anecdote from SpaceX: if someone said “this is impossible” too many times, Musk would reassign the task or fire the person and say, “Fine, I’ll do it myself.” This fosters a Darwinian environment – very tough, but it means those who remain are either very capable or become capable by necessity.

The pace at Musk’s companies is another cultural hallmark. A new hire at SpaceX once described it as “drinking from a firehose” – the sheer volume and speed of projects overwhelms those used to a more measured pace. SpaceX can design, build, test, and iterate a rocket part in weeks, while a NASA contractor might take months or years. That’s because Musk drives a culture of urgent iteration. Engineers often develop prototypes with the expectation they might fail, just to learn faster (as discussed in the previous chapter). That mentality pervades daily work – better to try something and be wrong than to waste time seeking consensus or doing endless analysis. There’s a motto on the factory floor: “If you see something that can be improved and you have the ability to improve it, do it. Don’t wait.” Musk empowers individuals to act, but he also monitors results hawkishly. KPIs, dashboards, email reports – Musk consumes enormous amounts of detail and will quickly call out if metrics aren’t improving or if there’s a slip. Employees have described nervously sending Musk updates at 1 AM only to get a reply 15 minutes later with pointed questions. Knowing that Musk himself is watching keeps everyone on their toes.

One of the more controversial aspects of Musk’s cultural approach is his stance on work-life balance (or lack thereof). Musk has implied that expecting a comfortable balance is not compatible with building world-changing products. In mid-2022, Musk sent an email to Tesla staff saying remote work was no longer acceptable: “Everyone at Tesla is required to spend a minimum of 40 hours in the office per week,” he wrote, “If you don’t show up, we will assume you have resigned.” He added that “the more senior you are, the more visible must be your presence,” and that he himself had been living in the factory so much that “it was like my home”. He later tweeted that those who disagreed “should pretend to work somewhere else.” Such blunt dismissal of flexible work options illustrated Musk’s belief that intense, in-person collaboration is key to his companies’ success. It angered some, but others in Tesla/SpaceX were unsurprised – that level of commitment was already the norm there.

Despite the intensity, many employees find Musk’s culture highly motivating. It’s a place for true believers – people who deeply care about electric vehicles or rockets or whatever the mission is. These people often don’t mind working crazy hours because they see the tangible results of their labor (rockets launching, cars being delivered) and they feel part of something historic. Musk is adept at inspiring that sense of purpose. An engineer at SpaceX famously said he gave up a comfortable job at Boeing to join SpaceX for less pay because “If you had a chance to go back in time and work with Howard Hughes at the dawn of commercial aviation, wouldn’t you do it?”. Musk attracts folks with that pioneering spirit, then pushes them to their limits. Those who thrive in it often speak of how much they learned and accomplished in a short time – a kind of career hyper-growth environment.

To maintain this culture, Musk has some non-negotiables. One is no excuses. In meetings, Musk can be famously harsh on any sign of excuse-making. He prefers brutal honesty: if a part failed, it failed – figure out why and fix it, don’t spin a story. He also expects people to know their stuff in depth. He might cold-call an engineer in a meeting to explain something; woe to the person who fumbles or gives an ambiguous answer. However, those who confidently provide facts and solutions earn Musk’s respect. Engineers have said that while Musk might berate them one day for a mistake, he’ll just as quickly praise good work or give more responsibility if they prove themselves. There’s a sense that the bar for approval is high, but once you clear it, Musk entrusts you with even bigger challenges.

The “hardcore” culture isn’t without its downsides. Burnout is a risk – many early Tesla and SpaceX employees eventually left due to exhaustion or the desire for a more normal life. Turnover in certain roles has been high. And Musk’s demanding style can sometimes tip into what some would call fear-based management. Not everyone responds well to being told their work is “dumb” (a word Musk has reportedly used when displeased) or seeing colleagues fired abruptly. It creates pressure that can be anxiety-inducing. Musk’s defenders would say this crucible forges the best work of your life; detractors say it’s unsustainable and comes at human cost. Musk seems to recognize the intensity isn’t for everyone – hence his willingness to let people self-select out, as with the Twitter ultimatum. He once said, “I think it’s pretty obvious that (working at Tesla) is not for the faint of heart. But we’re not churning out insipid widgets; we’re trying to revolutionize industries.” In Musk’s mind, that lofty goal justifies the demanding culture.

Interestingly, Musk’s companies also engender camaraderie and loyalty among those who endure. When you’ve gone through “hell” together – whether it’s working nonstop to meet a rocket launch date or sleeping under your desk to debug code – it builds solidarity. Employees often cite the team spirit at SpaceX/Tesla as a big plus. Musk fosters this in smaller ways too: at SpaceX, after a successful launch or milestone, they hold celebrations where Musk might personally shake hands or give a short rousing speech. There’s a sense of being in the trenches with a common mission, and Musk is the general leading the charge. People might fear his wrath day-to-day, but they also crave his approval and share his mission fervor. It’s a dynamic, high-pressure environment that can produce both great stress and great pride.

In conclusion, Elon Musk’s “hardcore” culture is a study in extremes: extreme work ethic, extreme expectations, and extreme results. It certainly isn’t a fit for everyone, but for those who thrive in it, it’s a chance to do the most impactful work of their careers. Musk has created a realm where only the exceptional survive – and he makes no apology for that. As he told the Twitter staff, “Only exceptional performance will constitute a passing grade.” It’s a stark ethos, but it’s one that has propelled tiny startups into world-leading companies in under two decades. Musk bets that a small team of fanatically dedicated people can run circles around a large team of 9-to-5ers. So far, he’s often been proven right.

Chapter 7: Bold Communication – Vision and Transparency

Elon Musk’s leadership isn’t confined to engineering and strategy; it also extends to how he communicates, both internally within his companies and externally to the public. Musk is a highly unorthodox communicator for a CEO: he’s candid, sometimes to a fault, and uses communication as a tool to inspire, to challenge, and occasionally to defy. This chapter delves into Musk’s communication style and how it serves his leadership goals – from rallying employees around a vision to handling crises in the public arena.

One of Musk’s notable communication traits is radical transparency about his vision and the state of things. We’ve seen how he shares bold goals and dire warnings with employees, but he often does similar with the public. For example, Musk doesn’t shy away from acknowledging difficulties on earnings calls or interviews. In 2018, amidst Tesla’s turmoil, he openly told Axios on HBO that Tesla had come “within single-digit weeks” of death, and that it was “bleeding money like crazy”. This kind of admission is rare from CEOs, who typically sugarcoat issues to maintain investor confidence. But Musk has a penchant for honesty (sometimes brutally so) because he believes it builds credibility – and because it galvanizes people to solve the problem. Investors and fans have actually come to appreciate Musk’s no-BS assessments. It also humanizes him; when he later choked up in an interview describing how tough that year was (saying it “hurt his brain and heart”), it created empathy and understanding for the immense pressure he was under.

Internally, Musk’s communications are a mix of motivational and demanding. We discussed the “explain why or you’re fired” style emails on chain of command. But he also sends vision-casting emails. One leaked email from Musk to all SpaceX employees in 2013 beautifully articulated why their work mattered: he laid out the goal of enabling human life on Mars and how every employee’s contribution fit into that historic mission. Employees have said that Musk can be incredibly inspiring in all-hands meetings – painting a vivid picture of the future they’re building. He might describe the city on Mars with thousands of SpaceX rockets ferrying people there, or a world where electric vehicles are the default and Tesla’s work has literally helped save the planet from climate catastrophe. These are not ordinary corporate pep talks; they are more like visionary sermons. Musk’s talent in communication is that he can switch from big-picture storyteller to technical drill sergeant as needed. He might start a meeting by reminding the team of the noble mission, then immediately dive into nitty-gritty details, questioning why a design isn’t better. The combination of lofty vision and practical intensity is uniquely motivating – employees know Musk won’t let them stray from the vision, but he also won’t accept sloppy execution in getting there.

Musk is also known for his direct and rapid communication style. He hates long meetings and long docs. He encourages people to use plain language and get to the point. Famously, he abolished acronyms at SpaceX if they weren’t absolutely necessary; an email went out saying any acronym not approved by Musk should be eliminated because they confuse communication. Musk himself communicates in a very unpolished, straightforward manner. Listen to any SpaceX launch webcast where he’s interviewed: he’ll bluntly say something like, “Yeah, that rocket blew up because we screwed up the pressure change in the upper stage,” whereas a typical CEO might issue a vague statement. This bluntness means employees and the public rarely have to read between the lines – Musk usually tells you what he really thinks.

In handling PR and media, Musk has taken an unprecedented route: he effectively became his own PR department through Twitter (now X). Tesla famously disbanded its PR department in 2020, an almost unheard-of move for a company of its size. Instead, Musk relies on communicating directly via social media and company blogs. This gives him control of the narrative – he can reach millions with a tweet in seconds. When there’s positive news, like a rocket landing or a new product, Musk loves to share it with triumphant flair (often posting videos or memes – he has a quirky sense of humor). When there’s negative news, Musk often addresses it head-on online or through a detailed explanation. Recall the Tesla Model S fires: Musk immediately wrote a blog post on Tesla’s site breaking down the incidents and providing context, and he tweeted out key points to defuse the fear. By owning the communication channels, Musk bypasses media “gatekeepers” and speaks directly to customers and fans. This has built a cult-like following: millions hang on Musk’s tweets for updates on everything from Tesla features to SpaceX launches to personal musings. It’s an incredibly powerful leadership tool – essentially, Musk can rally public support or customer enthusiasm at will. When Tesla was on the verge of selling 200,000 cars in a quarter, Musk could tweet a last-minute sales push (“Tesla will have a 2-day delivery if you order by end of quarter!”) and loyalists would respond.

However, Musk’s freewheeling communication can also backfire. His infamous “Funding secured” tweet in 2018 – claiming he had financing to take Tesla private at $420 per share – sent markets into chaos and invited an SEC investigation, because it turned out funding wasn’t fully secured. Musk later said he was trying to be transparent about a possible deal, but the incident cost him the Tesla chairmanship and $20 million in fines. It was a lesson that even Musk’s candor has limits in the regulated world of public companies. Still, Musk emerged from that insisting on his right to tweet and be unconventional – he even tweeted “Naughty by Nature” after the settlement, showing his mischievous defiance. Indeed, he continues to push boundaries, such as polling Twitter users on major decisions (he once tweeted a poll asking if he should sell 10% of his Tesla stock – and then did when the majority voted yes, a move that baffled Wall Street).

When it comes to communicating internally during crises, Musk has demonstrated an interesting mix of empathy and tough love. There’s an email he sent to all SpaceX employees after a particularly hard week of failures; in it he acknowledged how hard everyone was working, thanked them, and encouraged them that their efforts would pay off for the future of space exploration – it was almost gentle and appreciative. Yet in other internal emails, he can be sharp: for example, one email to Tesla staff listed a set of “productivity recommendations” including not wasting time in large meetings, leaving a meeting if you’re not contributing, ignoring rules if they’re obviously dumb – and if anyone disagreed with these, “hang up, walk out, or ignore” as needed. His tone oscillates between inspirational and no-nonsense, which keeps people on their toes.

Musk’s use of social media also serves as a way to humanize the companies. He often tweets pictures or progress updates that give outsiders a peek inside SpaceX or Tesla. For instance, he posted photos of Starship assembly, or videos from inside the Tesla Gigafactories with robots moving. This creates excitement and a sense of transparency – fans feel like they’re part of the journey. Musk even banters with customers on Twitter: someone complains their Tesla order is delayed, Musk might reply “Checking on it!” and then actually fix the issue behind the scenes. This direct line gives customers a sense of personal connection to the CEO – something no traditional car company has.

Interestingly, Musk also uses communication as a way to attract talent and partners. His bold public statements often double as recruiting pitches. When SpaceX was developing the Raptor engine, he tweeted engineering challenges and essentially said, “If you love solving this, come join SpaceX.” Thousands of engineers follow him specifically for these insights. Another example: Musk’s communication of vision can win over business partners. His flamboyant presentations – like unveiling the Tesla Roadster in SpaceX’s Falcon Heavy test (sending a car to space with a mannequin astronaut) – were communications stunts that captured global attention and endeared the brands to millions, including potential investors or customers.

However, Musk’s candid style can cause headaches. He has feuded with journalists and critics on Twitter, sometimes resorting to insults (like calling a diver in a Thailand cave rescue a “pedo guy” in anger, for which he later apologized after a defamation case). These incidents show the double-edged sword of his unfiltered approach. By being so approachable and unfiltered, Musk occasionally steps into controversies that a more PR-sanitized CEO would avoid. Yet, Musk’s brand has arguably thrived on a bit of edge and controversy – it makes him an unpredictable, larger-than-life figure who commands attention. From a leadership standpoint, it’s risky, but it also cements his image as an authentic leader who speaks his mind and fights for what he believes (rightly or wrongly).

Internally, Musk encourages open communication too – albeit respectfully. In company town halls, employees can ask him tough questions, and he’ll answer in detail. But he expects them to have done their homework. There’s a story from Tesla: an employee emailed Musk directly with a suggestion to improve a factory process. Musk not only read it but implemented the change and replied to thank the employee. This flatness of communication – where anyone can reach Elon if they have something valuable – makes employees feel empowered. It also means no middle manager wants to be caught slowing down or censoring messages up the chain, since Musk has signaled he welcomes direct interaction.

In sum, Musk’s communication style is an integral part of his leadership. It amplifies his vision, maintains urgency and alignment, and builds a loyal community around his companies. He leverages modern tools (social media) in a way no other Fortune 500 CEO has, effectively turning communication into a strategic advantage – Tesla and SpaceX get billions in free marketing because of Musk’s tweets and the press coverage they generate. The downside is the potential for missteps, but Musk seems to accept that as a trade-off for authenticity. As he once tweeted, “Twitter is a war zone. If somebody’s gonna jump in the war zone, it’s, like, ‘Okay, you’re in the arena. Let’s go!’” That gladiatorial approach to public discourse is definitely not typical CEO behavior, but then Elon Musk is not a typical CEO. By communicating boldly – whether inspiring vision or tackling controversy head-on – Musk reinforces his image as a leader who isn’t afraid to tell it like it is and take big swings, in communications just as in business.

Chapter 8: Risky Bets and Unconventional Moves – The Maverick CEO

In the course of leading multiple companies, Elon Musk has made numerous high-stakes decisions that buck conventional wisdom. These range from eyebrow-raising product strategies to major financial gambits. What sets Musk apart as a CEO is his willingness to make risky, unconventional moves in pursuit of his vision, and to do so swiftly. This chapter highlights some of those maverick decisions and what we can learn from Musk’s calculated (and sometimes not-so-calculated) risks.

One area of unconventional bets is in product strategy and engineering direction. Take Tesla’s approach to self-driving technology: while others in the industry were adding expensive LIDAR sensors and mapping every road in detail, Musk insisted on a “vision-only” approach using cameras and AI – a risky divergence from the consensus. He often reasoned from first principles (as covered earlier) that if humans drive with just eyes and a brain, then cameras and neural nets should suffice. This bet is still playing out, but it exemplifies Musk’s pattern: choose a path that you believe is fundamentally better, even if most experts disagree. Tesla’s Autopilot, rolled out to customers as a beta, was controversial for using consumers to train AI. Musk defended it, saying real-world data collection was the fastest way to improve – a stance many criticized as dangerous, but that accelerated Tesla’s development significantly. It was a bold move to treat customers almost like test drivers, but it has given Tesla billions of miles of edge-case data that competitors envy.

Another example is the Cybertruck, Tesla’s electric pickup unveiled in 2019. Its radical, futuristic design of angular stainless steel shocked the automotive world – it looked nothing like any truck on the market (and indeed, during the demo, its “armored glass” infamously cracked when a metal ball was thrown at it, a PR hiccup that Musk laughed off). Industry analysts thought it was a joke or a niche vanity project. But Musk doubled down, saying the Cybertruck’s design (inspired partly by the film Blade Runner) was intentionally bold to reshape consumer expectations. He took the risk of potentially alienating the core truck market to create something that stood out. Over 200,000 people pre-ordered the Cybertruck within days, purely on Musk’s reveal and vision, proving that an outrageous idea can captivate public imagination – a testament to how Musk’s risk-taking in design can create viral enthusiasm. It was a gamble: had reception been poor, Tesla would have spent R&D on a product no one wanted. But Musk trusted his instinct that a shocking, Mars-rover-like truck would generate enormous attention and demand. As of 2025, the world is eagerly awaiting these trucks on the road, showing how Musk turned a risky design into a strategic win (by essentially locking in hundreds of thousands of buyers before production even begins).

Musk’s maverick moves extend to financial decisions too. The Twitter acquisition itself was a $44 billion high-wire act – he offered to buy the social media platform at a hefty premium on a whim after polling his Twitter followers. He then tried to back out, then was forced to follow through, selling roughly $20 billion of Tesla stock to fund it. This was widely criticized as a huge risk to Tesla’s shareholders (Tesla’s stock indeed fell during the chaos). Why would Musk jeopardize his golden goose (Tesla) to take on a troubled social media firm? In Musk’s view, it wasn’t just a financial play – it was mission-driven (he spoke about preserving free speech and creating “X, the everything app” out of Twitter). It was the kind of big swing only Musk might attempt – blending principle with business with a dose of impulsiveness. Now, whether this risk pays off remains to be seen; many would argue it has damaged Musk’s reputation in some circles and diverted his focus. But it shows that Musk treats his own wealth as a tool to pursue big ideas, not as an end in itself. This echoes his earlier all-in bets, but at a larger scale. He was willing to leverage his most valuable asset (Tesla shares) and even take on billions in debt to seize what he saw as a historic opportunity to shape social media. Most CEOs stay in one lane; Musk jumps lanes freely – from cars to rockets to social networks – applying his style across them all.

Another unconventional tactic: Musk’s approach to mergers and acquisitions. In 2016, Tesla acquired SolarCity (a solar panel installer chaired by Musk and run by his cousins) for $2.6 billion. Many investors complained it was a conflict of interest and that Tesla should focus on cars. Musk, however, framed it as part of a “sustainable energy” ecosystem – combining solar, storage (Tesla’s Powerwall batteries), and electric cars under one roof. In essence, it was a strategic risk to broaden Tesla’s scope. It’s debatable how successful that’s been (SolarCity’s business struggled and was absorbed into Tesla Energy), but it showed Musk’s willingness to make bold, mission-driven acquisitions even if they’re unpopular. He later said it was critical to have solar and battery under Tesla to offer a one-stop solution for clean energy. The jury is still out on the financial wisdom, but again Musk prioritized long-term integration over short-term optics.

Musk also has a pattern of using public enthusiasm as leverage in risky moves. For instance, when Tesla was on the verge of bankruptcy in 2013, Musk sought a buyout from Google’s Larry Page. But as the story goes, before the deal finalized, Tesla’s Model S got rave reviews and strong sales, which Musk quickly publicized and capitalized on to raise additional funding and boost stock, avoiding the need to sell. Musk essentially bet on his product’s excellence and public acclaim to pull the company through instead of ceding control. Another anecdote: in 2016, Musk announced the Tesla Roadster 2nd generation (a supercar) and the Tesla Semi truck with much fanfare – but those products got delayed for years as Tesla focused on core models. Why announce so early? Likely to excite customers, lock in reservations (and deposits), and show the long-term vision to keep the brand aura strong – a risky proposition, because delays can frustrate fans. But Musk often figures it’s better to shoot for an ambitious target and slip than to not shoot at all. This keeps Tesla in the news and maintains its image as a leader in multiple segments (even if the actual product comes later). It’s a gamble with credibility, but Tesla fans have shown patience because Musk eventually delivers, if late.

One of Musk’s boldest operational gambles was SpaceX’s decision to attempt vertical landing and reuse of rockets. Early on, many in the industry thought it was folly – rockets are disposable, period. Musk invested significant resources into developing the technology (the Falcon 9 booster grid fins, landing legs, autonomous drone ships for ocean landings) when he could have just built more rockets in expendable fashion. By 2015, SpaceX achieved the first orbital rocket booster landing. It stunned the world and upended the industry, leading rivals like Blue Origin and ULA to chase reusability. That risk has paid off enormously: by 2023, SpaceX routinely reflied boosters 10+ times, slashing marginal costs. But it could have gone wrong – if landings failed consistently, clients might have lost faith. Musk communicated the vision clearly to manage expectations (he often said, “We’re going to try to land, probably won’t succeed this time” until they did). This willingness to openly try and fail on a very public stage was a bold strategy. It made each attempt a media event, which in turn gave SpaceX tons of publicity (even failures were headlines). This showmanship combined with engineering risk-taking is a Musk specialty – the world watched a live feed as Falcon boosters fell out of the sky toward tiny drone ships, exploding or sticking the landing, and it turned SpaceX into a household name. Who else would market test flights like a spectator sport? Musk realized that embracing the drama of his risky bets could rally support and interest, effectively turning risky R&D into PR.

Musk’s handling of human resources can be unconventional too. For instance, in the early days of Tesla, he did something unusual: during a crunch, he emailed employees saying that anyone who was not on board with the intense workload could leave, but if they stayed, he promised to personally reward them when success was achieved (through stock options that later became very valuable). This carrot-and-stick approach – basically, weed out those without passion, richly reward the faithful – is not standard corporate practice, but Musk has used it to forge dedicated teams. Similarly, after taking Twitter private, he has floated the idea of letting users be shareholders in a future re-IPO, aligning power users with the company’s success. It’s all about creating an ecosystem of true believers.

In Musk’s world, calculated risks are necessary to accelerate progress. He often says he’d rather try something audacious now and maybe fail, than never try and always wonder. When criticized, he asks back: what’s the alternative, to stagnate? For example, his rapid timeline for SpaceX’s Starship (a fully reusable Mars-capable rocket) involved building giant prototypes out in the open in South Texas with a relatively scrappy approach. Traditionalists were aghast at this “build it break it” method for a massive rocket, but Musk wanted to iterate fast. As of 2023, Starship has had test flights and big explosions, but also rapid improvement. If it works, he will have leapfrogged the entire aerospace field in a fraction of the time. If it fails, SpaceX will have spent several years and billions with not much to show – but Musk deems the potential payoff worth the risk. He’s essentially running a Silicon Valley style startup approach in heavy industries – something very unconventional.

Musk also uses provocative commitments as a strategy. A famous incident: in 2018, as Tesla struggled to deliver Model 3 cars, Musk tweeted that he was working as Tesla’s delivery customer service, even personally delivering some cars, and gave out his email for any issues. Thousands emailed him. While obviously he couldn’t fix each personally, the statement set a tone that Tesla cared deeply about each customer. It was risky because it opened floodgates of expectation. But Musk often raises stakes publicly (saying “hold me accountable”) to pressure himself and the team to deliver. It’s a form of self-imposed risk to ensure execution.

Not all of Musk’s bets have been flawless, of course. The SolarCity deal turned into a legal battle with shareholders. The Hyperloop concept he open-sourced (a super-fast pod transport) hasn’t materialized in the promised form, though it sparked a new industry conversation. Neuralink (one of his ventures for brain-machine interfaces) has had slower progress and regulatory hurdles. The Boring Company (for tunnel transit) built a tunnel in Las Vegas but its grander visions are unproven. Yet Musk doesn’t let these slower outcomes deter his propensity to gamble on new ideas. He seems to possess an intrinsic belief that attempting something groundbreaking is better than being safe and ordinary – because even if you don’t fully succeed, you advance the state of the art. This resonates with many who are drawn to work with him or invest in his companies: they know some wild ideas might not pan out, but the journey will push boundaries.

In conclusion, Elon Musk’s leadership is characterized by an extraordinary appetite for bold, unconventional moves, backed by both careful reasoning and a tolerance for possible failure. Whether it’s launching a convertible car into space as a marketing stunt (yes, SpaceX did that with Musk’s own Tesla Roadster on the Falcon Heavy test flight) or turning his company structure upside down overnight, Musk shows again and again that he is not afraid to break rules and defy norms. The key insight for leaders is that with great risk can come great reward – but only if you’re prepared to manage the fallout, adjust on the fly, and keep charging forward. Musk’s maverick decisions often leave onlookers speechless or skeptical, but time after time he has vindicated his approach by achieving what was deemed unattainable. It’s a reminder that innovation often requires coloring outside the lines, and Musk’s career is essentially a masterclass in doing just that.

Chapter 9: Juggling Empires – Context Switching and Synergy

One of the most astounding aspects of Elon Musk’s leadership is that he isn’t just running one game-changing company – he’s running several, often simultaneously. Musk has helmed SpaceX and Tesla as CEO for over a decade, and served as visionary/involved leader for ventures like Neuralink (neurotech), The Boring Company (tunneling), and now X (Twitter). Managing just one high-growth technology company is a herculean task, yet Musk somehow splits his time and mental energy across diverse industries. This chapter explores how Musk manages context switching between companies and tries to create synergies among them, effectively juggling multiple empires at once.

First, consider the sheer logistics. In the mid-2010s, Musk was famously flying by private jet back and forth between Los Angeles (SpaceX HQ) and the Bay Area (Tesla HQ) multiple times per week. In 2018, his jet logged over 150,000 miles in one year, crisscrossing between his companies’ sites. He would spend Monday and Tuesday at SpaceX, then Wednesday through Friday at Tesla, often working late into the night at one before flying pre-dawn to the other. On weekends, he might fly to Cape Canaveral for a rocket launch or to New York for business meetings. This punishing travel schedule underscores an important trait: Musk maximizes every waking hour and doesn’t compartmentalize his life into neat work/life boxes. His life is work and mission. He has said he tries to spend about 70-80% of his time on engineering and design, splitting across companies as needed. This intense time management is possible only because Musk delegates operational tasks to strong teams when he’s absent physically, and steps in mainly for critical design reviews, major hiring decisions, or crisis situations. For example, Gwynne Shotwell, SpaceX’s President and COO, handles day-to-day at SpaceX so Musk can be away and trust that execution continues. Likewise at Tesla, a cadre of senior executives handle many operations. Musk essentially floats at the strategic and engineering apex of his companies, diving in wherever he’s uniquely needed.

To reduce friction, Musk often merges roles or resources across companies. A subtle synergy: early on, SpaceX’s recruiting and Tesla’s recruiting worked closely, sometimes swapping promising candidates who might be a better fit for one or the other. Musk used his personal brand and the allure of his projects to draw talent, then placed them where they could have most impact. Another example is in manufacturing knowledge – Tesla’s expertise in mass-producing electronics and batteries has benefited SpaceX’s Starlink satellite production (Starlink is SpaceX’s satellite internet constellation requiring building thousands of small satellites efficiently). Conversely, SpaceX’s experience with lightweight materials and heat shielding informed Tesla’s development of new alloys for car parts and maybe the Cybertruck’s exoskeleton (rumored to use a stainless steel similar to SpaceX’s Starship). Musk encourages cross-pollination: engineers from Tesla and SpaceX sometimes collaborate informally or tour each other’s facilities to share best practices. This is highly unusual since the companies are separate legal entities, but Musk’s influence bridges them. He once quipped that he’s “assembling a team of superheroes” across his endeavors, each company tackling a piece of a larger puzzle for the future (energy, transportation, space, connectivity).

Musk also leverages financial synergies at times. Tesla and SpaceX, while not overtly mixing finances, have had instances of support: for example, SpaceX participated in a 2015 funding round buying Tesla stock when Tesla needed cash (essentially SpaceX invested $90 million in Tesla bonds). While minor in scale, it showed Musk’s willingness to use one asset to bolster another when needed. More recently, Musk reportedly had SpaceX buy an advertising package on Twitter (after he bought Twitter), which is a way of synergistically funneling money to support his new acquisition. These moves raise eyebrows (critics say he’s robbing Peter to pay Paul), but Musk sees his companies as part of a unified mission – so he sometimes treats them like a family that can help each other out.

A crucial factor in juggling multiple companies is prioritization and focus. Musk seems to operate in triage mode: whichever company has the most urgent need gets his attention. During 2018’s Model 3 crisis, SpaceX was relatively stable, so Musk spent most of that year deeply involved at Tesla – and SpaceX took a bit of a backseat (though it still had big milestones like Falcon Heavy’s first flight). Conversely, when SpaceX was preparing a crucial launch or Starship test, Musk might camp in Boca Chica, Texas for days, while Tesla ran on autopilot. He has admitted it’s tough: “They’re each like a child,” he said about his companies, “I don’t want to neglect any of them.” But practically, he goes where he’s most needed at any time. His ability to context switch quickly – discussing a minute detail about car door handles in one meeting, and by afternoon calculating rocket engine thrust in another – is a cognitive feat. It likely stems from his deep technical grounding and memory, plus an extraordinary capacity for work. He often mentions that he spends time “context switching,” which has a productivity cost, but he manages by keeping core teams stable and well-led.

Interestingly, Musk also finds common threads among his ventures to streamline his own understanding. For example, both Tesla and SpaceX involve advanced manufacturing, so Musk has developed a personal passion for manufacturing science (“the machine that makes the machine”). Improvements in Tesla’s factory – like high-speed automation or vertical integration – can often inspire changes at SpaceX’s factory and vice versa. Musk once said that building rockets and building cars share challenges like managing complex supply chains and precision quality control, so lessons in one domain transfer mentally. Additionally, both companies rely on similar foundational technologies: software, electronics, materials. Tesla’s expertise in battery systems and power electronics is directly applicable to, say, SpaceX’s grid battery backup needs or even to stage separation mechanisms. It’s said that SpaceX’s early Falcon 9 rockets used Tesla battery packs to power certain systems (an example of direct component synergy). Musk ensures his companies aren’t siloed if there’s a benefit to sharing tech or components. Recently, Tesla’s AI team (which works on self-driving) pivoted some resources to develop a humanoid robot (Tesla Optimus) – leveraging the same AI for a new purpose. Musk suggested that Optimus could initially be used in Tesla factories, but someday perhaps in SpaceX’s Mars colonies to help build habitats, etc. This kind of long-term cross-company vision is how Musk rationalizes doing so many things: in his mind, they all interconnect in creating a multi-planetary, sustainable future.

There’s also personal brand synergy. Musk’s celebrity and Twitter presence creates a gravitational pull that benefits all his companies. When he tweets about SpaceX, it reminds people Tesla has a visionary leader (and Tesla’s stock might bump). When Tesla announces a new product, it draws more attention to Musk’s other endeavors by extension. He often intermixes tweets – one minute a rocket update, next minute a joke about Dogecoin, next a note on Tesla software – keeping his 100+ million followers engaged on all fronts. This means essentially zero marketing costs for these companies; Musk himself is the brand ambassador across industries. Few leaders could get away with this level of multitasking in the public eye. But Musk has cultivated an image as the archetype of the modern innovator, which rubs off on everything he touches. That’s why, for instance, when Neuralink hosts a webcast showing progress on brain implants, millions tune in largely because Musk is behind it, even if it’s outside their usual interest.

Managing different corporate cultures is another juggling aspect. SpaceX’s culture is aerospace-centric, hiring many young, hungry rocket engineers, whereas Tesla has a mix of auto industry veterans and Silicon Valley tech types. Musk had to ensure both cultures embrace his values (work hard, innovate fast). At times he transplants leaders: ex-SpaceX engineers have taken roles at Tesla to help, say, with automating production (because building rockets taught them how to simplify designs). And vice versa, some Tesla manufacturing people went to SpaceX to help ramp Starlink assembly lines. Thus Musk cross-pollinates not only ideas but people.

A risk of juggling so much is that Musk stretches himself thin. Indeed, critics argue that Tesla’s quality control issues or Twitter’s chaotic rollout of features are due to Musk not being able to give full attention. Musk’s counter would be that he hires great people and dives in personally only when critical, so each company gets what it needs most of the time. There have been moments – like in late 2022, when Musk focused on Twitter – that Tesla shareholders voiced concern he was distracted from Tesla, especially as its stock fell. Musk eventually said he would try to reduce his time at Twitter (appointing a new CEO in 2023). This shows that even Musk has to adjust when the juggling act strains stakeholder patience. Yet, he also points out he has managed multiple companies for years and both Tesla and SpaceX reached heights under that model.

One fascinating synergy is how success in one venture funds or de-risks another. SpaceX’s lucrative government contracts and Starlink revenue have made it financially strong, which in turn gives Musk more personal capital (since he owns ~40% of SpaceX) and credibility to embark on projects like buying Twitter or continuing high-cost development of Starship without needing outside funding. Similarly, Tesla’s skyrocketing stock in 2020–2021 made Musk the world’s richest person, which indirectly empowered him to take big swings elsewhere (like starting xAI, an AI startup in 2023, to influence AI development in line with his vision). So Musk creates a virtuous cycle: each success creates resources (money, talent, tech) that he can redeploy to new frontiers.

From a leadership perspective, Musk’s ability to manage this portfolio of ventures boils down to a few key practices: extreme focus when needed, trust in strong teams, efficient communication (he’s known to send rapid-fire emails to multiple companies in a single day), and a unifying vision. That vision – of a bold future with electric transport, multiplanetary life, AI both harnessed and monitored, and hyper-connected infrastructure – is what ties all his work together. Because it’s unified in his mind, he can justify jumping from a call about Mars rockets to a meeting on social media algorithms; to him, it’s all part of moving humanity forward. That overarching purpose is likely what sustains his energy and drive despite the chaos of context switching.

In summary, Elon Musk’s multi-company leadership is a case study in pushing the boundaries of personal capacity and strategic alignment. He has shown it’s possible to lead disparate industries simultaneously by leveraging common vision, fostering inter-company synergy, and assembling empowered teams who can execute independently most of the time. It requires an extraordinary level of commitment and intensity## Chapter 10: Legacy and Lessons – What Elon Will Do Next

Elon Musk’s impact on the world of business and technology is already the stuff of legend. He has rewritten the rules in multiple industries – forcing automakers to take electric vehicles seriously, making rockets reusable and space exciting again, and challenging the status quo in energy, transport, and now social media. As we reflect on his leadership journey, it’s clear that the principles explored in this book – grand vision, total commitment, first-principles thinking, embracing failure, crisis leadership, hardcore culture, bold communication, maverick risk-taking, and multi-company synergy – are not just theoretical ideas, but the playbook Musk actively uses to push boundaries. His legacy is still in the making, but certain lessons shine through.

One key lesson is the power of mission-driven leadership. Musk has shown that when a leader centers every action around a meaningful mission, it can unite employees, investors, and even competitors in striving for progress. Traditional car companies scoffed at Tesla initially, but as Tesla demonstrated that electric cars could be profitable and cool, those same companies scrambled to accelerate their own EV programs – essentially validating Musk’s vision. Today, nearly every major automaker has committed to phasing out gasoline vehicles, a trajectory sparked in large part by Tesla’s success. Similarly, SpaceX’s achievements prodded other nations and companies to innovate; the European Space Agency and Blue Origin, for instance, began developing reusable rockets, acknowledging that Musk had changed the game. In short, Musk’s insistence on a bold mission created a ripple effect beyond his own companies, raising the collective ambition of industries. Future leaders can learn from this: setting a transformative mission can galvanize not only your team but an entire ecosystem.

Another lesson is that fortitude under adversity can lead to historic turnarounds. The stories of Tesla’s near-death experiences in 2008 and 2018, and SpaceX’s early failures, underscore that breakthrough success often lies just beyond the darkest hour. Musk’s refusal to give up – encapsulated in his quote “I’d have to be dead or completely incapacitated” to quit – became a cultural value at his companies. It taught those teams that if they persevere a little longer and solve one more problem, they can make it. And they did. This resilience has arguably become part of Musk’s legacy: both Tesla and SpaceX are now cited as prime examples of how tenacity and innovation can solve “impossible” problems. SpaceX has ferryed NASA astronauts to orbit – the first private company in history to do so – and made the United States a spacefaring leader again. Tesla went from a fringe startup to the most valuable automaker in the world by market cap, sparking a global EV revolution. These outcomes seemed fantastical during the crises, but Musk’s leadership pulled through. The takeaway for others is to cultivate a culture that meets crises with creativity and grit rather than fear.

Musk’s journey also illustrates the importance of continuous learning and first-principles adaptation. As challenges evolve, he adapts. When production automation overreached at Tesla, Musk learned and pivoted to a balanced approach of people and machines. When early Twitter changes caused backlash, Musk adjusted some policies (for example, after initially removing verification badges entirely, he brought back a form of verification for notable figures). This shows that while Musk is bold, he is not inflexible – he iterates on his leadership as much as on his products. His willingness to “try, fail, learn, and improve” at the leadership level (not just engineering level) is a hallmark of his style. Future leaders can emulate this by treating company culture and strategy as living products that should be refined with feedback.

What will Elon do next? If history is any guide, he will continue to surprise. Musk often says his ultimate goal is to make humankind a multi-planet species – so we can expect him to double down on SpaceX’s Starship program to achieve the first human mission to Mars in the coming decade. At Tesla, he will push the frontiers of self-driving AI and possibly energy solutions (he’s spoken about revolutionizing the electric grid with battery storage and even HVAC systems for homes). With X (Twitter), he has a vision to turn it into “X, the everything app” – combining social media, payments, services, and more into a single platform akin to China’s WeChat. Skeptics abound, as they always have, but Musk has a habit of proving skeptics wrong or at least achieving outcomes they thought unattainable. One might not bet against him making inroads in whatever domain he sets his sights on, be it AI (through his new venture xAI focusing on safer artificial intelligence) or tunnel transportation (The Boring Company’s ongoing tunnel projects).

From a legacy standpoint, Musk’s influence on future entrepreneurs and leaders may be his greatest contribution. He has made it somewhat acceptable – even admirable – to be an outspoken, engineering-oriented CEO who tweets memes, sleeps in factories, and talks openly about humanity’s future. In a world that, before Musk, often expected corporate leaders to be conservative and polished, Musk showed a different path: a leader can be a geeky visionary and build trillion-dollar companies. Young founders around the world cite Musk as an inspiration to swing for the fences. Aerospace startups, electric vehicle companies, and clean energy innovators proliferated in the 2010s, many explicitly following in Tesla or SpaceX’s footsteps. Even legacy industries learned to embrace some of Musk’s philosophies: for instance, faster iterative development and the acceptance of failure in testing are now more common in aerospace, thanks to SpaceX’s demonstration of their value.

Of course, Musk’s approach is not without controversy or risk. Not every company could survive the trial-by-fire culture or sudden gambits that Musk’s have. Critics point out that what Musk does might only work because of Musk’s unique mix of genius, wealth, and risk tolerance. There is truth in that – his model isn’t a plug-and-play template for all. But even if one can’t copy Musk wholesale, there are elements of his leadership that can elevate any organization: set audacious goals, recruit people passionate to their core, don’t fear risk, learn constantly, communicate openly, and put mission above ego. Musk’s life also teaches the value of hard work and personal sacrifice for a cause – an increasingly rare message in an age often focused on balance. Few will want to work 120-hour weeks like Musk did, but his willingness to put in more effort than anyone else gives him a moral authority when asking his teams to push harder. It’s a reminder that leaders shape culture by example.

As we conclude, the title of this book – What Elon Will Do – carries a dual meaning. It asks what future feats Elon Musk will tackle, and by extension, it asks what we can predict about his decision-making playbook. By examining how Musk has led through various trials, we gain insight into what he will likely do when the next challenge arises. We can expect he will continue to “burn the boats,” committing fully to whichever venture demands it. He will likely approach new problems from first principles, whether designing a Mars habitat or an AI regulatory framework. He will not shy from controversy if he believes he’s right, and he will use transparent communication to bring others along (or provoke debate). He will maintain insanely high standards – whether for the payload capacity of a rocket or the user experience of an app – and push his teams to meet them. And crucially, Elon will continue to dream big. The scope of his ambition has only grown: what started with internet software (Zip2, PayPal) expanded to electric cars, then rockets, then solar energy, brain-computer interfaces, underground tunnels, AI, and social media. Musk has demonstrated an extraordinary truth: a single leader, armed with vision and determination, really can help reshape the future in multiple arenas. It’s a modern embodiment of the Renaissance spirit – reminiscent of names like Edison or da Vinci, though in a uniquely 21st-century style.

In the end, What Elon Will Do next is what he has always done – challenge the odds. Whether it’s colonizing Mars, solving traffic with tunnels, or guiding the evolution of AI, Musk will surely apply the lessons covered in these chapters. For readers and leaders, the value is not in trying to become Elon Musk, but in applying these insights to your own realm. As Musk himself often says, “I think it is possible for ordinary people to choose to be extraordinary.” By learning from his experiences, we can all adopt a bit of that extraordinary mindset. We can set bolder goals, be less afraid of failure, demand more of ourselves and our organizations, and hold true to our foundational principles.

Elon Musk’s story is still being written, but one thing is certain: he has redefined what one person can achieve through audacious vision and relentless execution. His leadership principles – visionary, courageous, and sometimes controversial – offer a roadmap for anyone aspiring to make a meaningful dent in the universe. As we anticipate the next chapters in Musk’s journey, we also equip ourselves with a richer understanding of how transformative leadership works in practice. In that sense, what Elon will do is perhaps less important than what we will do with the inspiration and knowledge gained. Armed with the lessons from Elon Musk’s remarkable ventures, there is no limit to the breakthroughs and “impossible” dreams the next generation of leaders can – and will – pursue.