The Special Arrogance of Today’s Tech CEOs
They seem to have no qualms about bringing their full selves to work.
Throughout history, leaders and chief executives of companies have displayed levels of hubris and egoism that far surpass the ordinary person. But in previous eras, I’d argue that CEOs cared much more to hide their anger, their quirks, or their transgressions related to drugs or sexual habits. There was somewhat of a facade of professionalism.
Today though, especially among Silicon Valley leaders, there seems to be a sort of cocky indifference to concealing these character flaws. In fact, CEOs today may see “bringing their full selves” into the public eye as beneficial, in that they’re able to be the full eclectic or contrarian geniuses they see themselves as. Additionally, surrounded by yes-men and armed with lawyers and favorable pro-CEO corporate structures, they may view themselves as so all-powerful that any erratic behavior displayed will not ultimately matter to their stock, their companies, or their positions of power that they have so firmly cemented.
Case in point: last week, the CEO of video game retail chain GameStop, Ryan Cohen, decided to interview with CNBC about his plans to acquire online marketplace eBay. When questioned by the show’s host Andrew Ross Sorkin about how Cohen was able to come up with the funds to complete the purchase of eBay, as the math wasn’t making sense, Cohen dismissively, with a hint of contempt, essentially refused to answer any of Sorkin’s questions.
Cohen repeated over and over again in a monotone voice that the deal would be “half cash, half stock,” managing to utter that Sorkin could look up details of the deal on the website. When Sorkin presented some harder numbers for Cohen to respond to, Cohen replied in that same monotone voice, almost a dead look in his eyes: “we’ll see what happens.”
It’s a tried and true media training tactic for CEOs to deflect from questions that they don’t want to answer. And GameStop is known for its publicity stunts, including the short squeeze that rallied retailers and skyrocketed its stock from $17 to nearly $500.
But what was remarkable here was not just the arrogance of Cohen in the interview when asked perfectly reasonable questions—but his eerie nonchalance to the consequences of his goals in response to earnest and well-informed questions. Did he not care? Did he view everything as a stunt that could happen or not happen? Was he on drugs? Why did he even take the interview in the first place?
There are other recent displays of CEOs caring little about professionalism or decorum. Last year, we saw Alex Karp of Palantir at the New York Times Dealbook Conference flailing his arms about and bouncing on his seat as if he had to immediately go to the bathroom. (Interestingly, Andrew Ross Sorkin was also the interviewer on this stage.) The interview went viral, with many questions about whether Karp was on drugs, why he couldn’t sit still. Meanwhile, Karp doubled down on this behavior in an investor call, and also attributed the strange interview to “neurodivergence,” later announcing a Palantir fellowship for neurodivergent people who may also have strange body language.
We all have become familiar with Elon Musk’s antics of course, from a purported Nazi salute that also was attributed to autism to everything he vomits out on X. But it is worth reminding us that Musk’s current foe Sam Altman, in line with this CEO trend, recently argued that people shouldn’t be too critical of the gigantic energy demands of AI models, with the justification: “But it also takes a lot of energy to train a human. It takes like 20 years of life and all of the food you eat during that time before you get smart.”
And while not a CEO, there’s venture capitalist Marc Andreessen the other month admitting, almost psychopathically, that he has zero levels of introspection because we must look forward to the future and not whine about the past. (My Hard Reset colleague Alex Shultz wrote about this the other month.)
But while Alex Karp (and probably the others) defiantly say to Wall Street analysts that it doesn’t matter if they’re arrogant because they’re “right all the time,” this “being right all the time” excuse for arrogance may not always be the case! Today, eBay rejected Ryan Cohen’s acquisition attempt, citing “the uncertainty regarding your financing proposal,” along with operational risks and the debt load that would result from the proposed transaction.
It remains to be seen whether CEO handlers can tamp down on this sort of unfiltered shooting from the hip that the CEOs may see as charming. But despite the brain chemistry of these CEOs perhaps being fundamentally altered by sycophant advisors, the isolation of extreme wealth, drugs, and the idea that they can do whatever they like with money—the court of public opinion still matters.
What we’re paying attention to…
A criminal hacking group used AI to detect a bug and bypass two-factor authentication, according to Google.
One writer in Hollywood shares how she makes ends meet: “For screenwriters like me—and job seekers all over—AI gig work is the new waiting tables.”
The threat of AI may not be in replacing workers, but in becoming their bosses and surveilling them, according to one academic.
A lawsuit filed against OpenAI alleges that the Florida State University shooter messaged ChatGPT thousands of times before acting out his plan. ChatGPT, the lawsuit says, encouraged him to target children.
Apparently Palantir has been trying to become a lifestyle brand?
And on that note, Palantir co-founder Jon Lonsdale has gone on X to allege that Nick Kristof’s must-read piece on the rape of Palestinians by Israeli soldiers is “propaganda” meant to “smear Jews.”
An Oxford philosopher’s book explains the collective obsession with prediction in algorithms and now prediction markets, rooted in power: “There is a core problem with this imperial advance, Véliz argues: the human practice of prediction is not about discerning truth, but exercising power. Predictions are intrinsically probabilistic, but are accepted as statements of determinate fact because they fulfil the psychological function of assuaging humanity’s innate anxiety about an uncertain future. As a result, they are also inherently wishful — motivated reasoning, rather than objective science.”