Oval and out: Musk and Trump’s farewell marred by disillusionment

Another day, another made-for-great-television encounter between Donald Trump and the media in the Oval Office.

The president, quite perversely, prides himself on the access he grants to a group of professionals he has routinely denounced as the “fake news” and “enemies of the people” – although any pain suffered from doing so has been eased by widening the net to include formerly fringe rightwing news organizations, who have responded in kind by lobbing friendly questions.

But Friday’s was no ordinary presidential briefing.

That was clear when Trump acknowledged – surely uniquely – that it wasn’t even primarily about him.

“Today, it’s about a man named Elon,” he intoned, referring to Elon Musk, the tech billionaire who spent $275m of his own money to help Trump win November’s election and return to the White House.

Yes, the Special One – as in “special government employee” – was leaving after 138 days at the heart of Trump’s administration. He had spearheaded the purportedly cost-slashing “department of government efficiency,” or Doge; boasted of feeding entire federal agencies “to the wood chipper” fought with cabinet secretaries; publicly paraded with a chainsaw; terrorised federal workers; and generally fomented mayhem within the governing bureaucracy.

All in the name of rooting out “waste, fraud and abuse” – boldly forecasting in advance that he would be able to find $2tn worth of it. He had fallen well short of that target, and his popularity plummeted amid widespread resentment over his interference in the US government process. With that, the stock of his business empire, principally his electric vehicle firm, Tesla, had fallen too.

So Musk – weeks ago seemingly ubiquitous and all-powerful – was not exactly going out on a high. The unaccustomed shadow of failure stalked him. Disillusionment did, too, as illustrated by his criticism of his Trump’s Big Beautiful bill, which he warned would undermine Doge’s cost-cutting endeavours.

Still, the president was generous. “He’s one of the greatest business leaders and innovators the world has ever produced,” he said, as Musk – wearing a black baseball cap – stood beside the resolute desk. “He stepped forward to put his very great talents into the service of our nation, and we appreciate it.”

But apparently not everybody.

For some people had been gossiping about Musk – and had snitched to the New York Times.

Hopes that he would be afforded a graceful exit from the political arena were somewhat dashed when the Old Grey Lady of American journalism disclosed Friday that his illicit drug intake was much more widespread than previously known.

The paper reported he used ecstasy and psychedelic mushrooms, substances whose effects on political judgment have not been hitherto explored. He was also said to have imbibed so much ketamine – a drug prescribed for depression – that it affected his bladder.

Predictably, the report was the first question raised by the media. And, clearly primed, Musk decided that the best form of defence was to take the piss, so to speak – out of the source.

“The New York Times? Is that the same publication that got a Pulitzer prize for false reporting on the Russiagate?” he said, in a delivery that bore the hallmarks of being pre-rehearsed – and perhaps coached by Trump himself, as it reprised one of his favoured gripes against the “fake news”.

“I think it is. That New York Times? Let’s move on.”

And move on things did – before anyone realised that Musk had failed to address, or deny, any of the revelations in the Times’ report.

Trump reclaimed his accustomed place centre-stage for a bit – riffing, in part, on Emmanuel Macron, the French president who had been in the news after his wife apparently shoved him as he was about to disembark from a plane on a visit to Vietnam.

“Do you have world leader-to-world leader marital advice?” the thrice-married and twice-divorced US president was asked, cast in the unlikely role of marriage guidance counsellor.

Trump replied, “Make sure the door remains closed,” before revealing, intriguingly, “No, I spoke to him and he’s fine. They’re two really good people I know very well. And I don’t know what that was all about.”

Then somebody asked what had been, until then, an elephant in the room question: Elon appeared to have a black eye.

“What happened to you?” asked a reporter. Given the popular anger against Musk’s imperious mien recently, there could have been any number of potential culprits: enemies in Maga-world, who have come to include Steve Bannon and Laura Loomer; a disaffected cabinet secretary taking exception to being insulted; perhaps even the disaffected mother of one of the billionaire’s numerous children as he has embarked on a one-man baby boom enterprise.

But Musk gave the most prosaic of explanations. The bruise had happened in a bout of horseplay with his five-year-old son, X Æ A-12 – who has accompanied him on previous visits to the White House but was, perhaps fortunately, absent this time. “I was just messing around with X and I said, ‘Go ahead, punch me I’m the face,’ and he did. Turns out, even a five-year-old punching you in the face – actually, if you knew X.

“I didn’t really feel much at the time and then, I guess, it really bruises up.”

It seemed perfect as a metaphor for his reputation – and perhaps his psyche – as he prepared to leave Washington.

Moments later – after Trump expounded on the alleged criminal havoc perpetrated by his favourite scapegoats, undocumented immigrants – Musk offered his take on the “fundamental moral flaw” of the left, a political grouping which once feted him but now holds him in contempt.

“Empathy for the criminals, but not empathy for the victims,” said the man who previously told podcaster Joe Rogan that empathy was the “fundamental weakness of western civilization” and open to exploitation.

As he spoke, it was hard to avoid the impression that among those he considered victims was himself.