Review

Ambition

Culture

3 November 2023

6 min read

The awe and outrage of Musk's toxic ingenuity

Walter Isaacson’s Elon Musk, is a biographic rollercoaster reckons Krish Kandiah. One marked by magnificent moments and moral crossroads.

Krish Kandiah

Krish is a social entrepreneur partnering across civil society, faith communities, government and philanthropy. He founded The Sanctuary Foundation.

Elon Musk, wearing a dark suit, stands on a stage to a white robotic looking surgical robot.

Elon Musk at a demonstration of the Neuralink technology in 2020.

There is something both inspiring and unnerving about Elon Musk. He is a game-changing pioneer and innovator in so many industries pivotal to our future: rockets, electric cars, solar panels, batteries, satellite Wi-Fi, and Artificial Intelligence. But he is also no stranger to scandal, controversy and allegation. In his latest biography, author Walter Isaacson explores the toxicity as well as the ingenuity that has come to be associated with the richest man on the planet. As he reveals Musk’s series of successes, and what has been sacrificed to acquire them, I found myself going on an emotional journey: from compassion to awe to outrage.

Compassion: a man familiar with misery

In the opening chapter of his book Isaacson draws attention to the trauma in Elon’s childhood. Perhaps unsurprisingly, Elon was socially awkward at school. When he once pushed back at a boy who bumped into him, he was being beaten up so badly his face was unrecognisable. When he returned from hospital Musk reports how his father reacted: “I had to stand for hours. He yelled at me and called me an idiot and told me that I was just worthless.” There are a number of similar stories from Musk’s seemingly brutal childhood. Errol Musk, Elon’s father, features heavily in a series of shocking revelations including that he slept with his own stepdaughter, fathering two children with her. The background of Musk’s chaotic childhood, his experience of domestic abuse, and his series of fractured relationships provides a context for some of the strange, indeed outrageous things catalogued in the book.

Having worked for many years with children in the care system and with refugee experience, I understand a little about the impact of trauma and how it can change the brain in profound ways. There is a great deal of evidence showing how adverse childhood experiences can cause long-lasting impact on decision-making, impulse control, relationship building, mental health management and emotional regulation. While many turn to alcohol, drugs or self-harm as coping mechanisms, others, perhaps like Musk, channel the pain into ambitions and achievements.

I found myself feeling profoundly sorry for Musk. No child should have to experience such prolonged cruelty both at school and at home. All of us need to know that we are loved and valued, independent of anything we have done or anything that has been done to us.

Awe: a man of magnificent moments

Musk’s ideas have revolutionised so many industries. The automotive industries move to electric power owes a lot to the innovation of Tesla. His Space X programme is currently changing the way we think about space travel. His company was the first to create self-landing reusable rockets and was the first private owned company to develop a liquid-propellant rocket that reached orbit; the first to launch, orbit, and recover a spacecraft; the first to send a spacecraft to the International Space Station; and the first to send astronauts to the International Space Station. He is also trying to revolutionise Artificial Intelligence (AI) through his company xAI - a direct competitor to Open AI even though he was one of their early backers.

Musk has a complex relationship with AI as he is not only one of the lead innovators in the field but also the most prominent of the 33,000 signatories of a letter calling for a pause to ‘Giant AI Experiments’ until there is, in Musk’s words, “a regulatory body established for overseeing AI to make sure that it does not present a danger to the public."

AI, alongside each of the other major interest areas in Musk’s work, is way beyond any dreams I ever had of a futuristic world. Musk has managed not only to imagine the unimaginable, but to find a way to get there with impressive speed, scale and sustainability values. The more I read about the innovations involved in each step of each project, the more impressed I am with the genius behind them.

Outrage: a man without a moral compass?

Despite Walter Isaacson’s clear respect for all Musk is achieving, he paints a warts-and-all picture of his book’s subject. We see a man who is ruthless in his hirings and firings, who has often treated staff and colleagues badly. In 2018, he famously called a rescue diver, helping to save teenage boys from a flooded cave in Thailand, a ‘paedo’, in what seemed to be a reaction to a snub to his offer of using his minisub.

In light of these sorts of outbursts, and his apparent desire to save the world from looming environmental disaster, it is no wonder that some people have accused Musk of having a messiah complex. Yet if he does, it is a very different mindset from the true messiah. He appears to me to be morally, emotionally and financially the polar opposite to the Jesus whose willingness to sacrifice himself on behalf of those in need was central to his claim to be sent from God. From the way Isaacson describes Musk, I see him more as a man on a mission to save himself than to save those around him.

The future? Musk, a man at a crossroads.

Isaacson closes his book with the following analysis:

“But would a restrained Musk accomplish as much as Musk unbound? Is being unfiltered and untethered integral to who he is? Could you get the rockets to orbit or the transition to electric vehicles without accepting all aspects of him, hinged and unhinged? Sometimes great innovators are risk-seeking man-children who resist potty training. They are reckless, cringeworthy, sometimes even toxic. They can also be crazy. Crazy enough to think they can change the world.”

I find this a disconcerting epilogue to the book. It suggests that we can pardon toxicity in the name of innovation, that the ends always justify the means, that morality and decency can take second place to advancement and wealth. If this stance were to be applied to, say, the development of AI, Musk’s fears of it becoming a danger to the public may sadly well be realised.

While factors such as grand ambition, the contribution to society, early years trauma, and mental health struggles may provide a robust explanation of why a person may be toxic, toxicity itself can never be excused. No amount of wealth can undo the harm toxic masculinity does to those around us. No amount of charitable giving can buy a person a generous spirit or moral compass. No amount of environmental awards can create the sort of world we really want to live in in the future – a world where people treat one another with the respect they need and deserve.

Elon Musk’s biography is unusual because he is still mid-journey. Who knows what else he may go on to achieve or fail at, to create or destroy? Will his AI revolution be a force for good, helping to create a better future for those who need it most, or will it become the behemoth of the doomsayers? What will future editions add to his biography? Is being ‘untethered’ really integral to who Musk is, or can he change? The visionary in me would love to imagine a redemption and transformation story for Musk that can unleash a compassionate generosity that could even overshadow his creative genius. The sceptic in me fears he may end up doing more harm than good.

Interview

Books

Culture

Football

Sport

17 September 2024

10 min read

Transformer: how Jurgen Klopp gave belief to a team and city

Neil Atkinson talks about his new biography of the redemptive Liverpool manager.

Jonathan Rowlands

Jonathan is a theology lecturer and Liverpool FC fan.

A stern looking football manager stares hard, with a stand of supporters behind him.

“But also I am shyer than everything would suggest.” It’s genuinely a surprise to hear this early on in my conversation with Neil Atkinson about his new book, Transformer: Klopp, the Revolution of a Club and Culture. Anyone who has heard him speak on The Anfield Wrap podcast, or many of his other media appearances, might soon get this impression that this is a man who thrives off the company of others, something that comes through in the book, too.

Atkinson is so keen to stress the notion that football is meant to be shared with others, that any thought of him being shy really does jar. As if to make my point, when I begin by asking him why he wrote Transformer, he begins the story back in the ’21-22 season, the one he’s “almost got the most fondness for” from Jürgen Klopp’s time as Liverpool manager.

The reason? “The redemption after the season under Covid and the idea of everyone being back together.”

Redemption may end up being the word that best summarises Klopp’s career. An average-at-best footballer himself, he began his managerial career at Mainz 05 where he secures near-miraculous promotion to the Bundesliga in 2004, shortly followed by relegation again. He then moves to Borussia Dortmund, beating presumptive champions Bayern Munich to a Bundesliga title, before the team implodes, prompting Klopp’s resignation in 2015. Later that year, he joins Liverpool, a sleeping giant of European football that finds itself at a remarkably low ebb in its history having narrowly missed out on a long-awaited premier league title in the 2013-14 season. He leaves a much-transformed Liverpool nine years later, having been crowned English champions, European champions, and world champions in the intervening years.

Klopp also seems to relish redemption stories in his squad, too. Jordon Henderson is nearly sold by Liverpool before Klopp arrives; Klopp makes him captain and he lifts nearly every trophy possible. Klopp signs Andy Robertson from relegated Hull FC; along with Trent Alexander-Arnold, they drastically re-invent the attacking fullback role in modern football. Chelsea reject Mo Salah who then joins Liverpool in 2017; under Klopp he becomes one of the best players in the world, and will go down in history as a genuine Liverpool legend.

Klopp loves a redemption story because he loves people, values them, and believes in them. He loves to see people redeemed; at their best.

“Liverpool is also uniquely placed – in the way that, I would argue for instance, Baltimore wasn’t – to be able to be a part of global storytelling, but on a uniquely local basis.”

It’s fitting, then, that Transformer is a book steeped in friendship. In offering his own retelling of Klopp’s nine years as Liverpool manager, the shyer-than-you-might-think Neil Atkinson does so in conversation with the people and places he knows and loves best, and invites you, the reader, to swap in your own. “I’m going to name people and places and they won’t be the same people and places as your people, but that’s fine to substitute; you’ll sort this out. I trust you.”

This was, it turns out, a conscious choice on his part. “I think that too often now in lots of storytelling, the idea of removing specifics is a real shame … I love The Wire. The Wire could only happen in Baltimore and there’s tons of reasons why, but there’s lots of aspects of that could be made more universal, [for example,] literally the way they talk to each other. But there’s great slabs of The Wire where they’re talking about a Baltimore radio station, because that’s the way people speak [there].”

To tell the story of Klopp’s time as Liverpool manager is also to tell the story of the city throughout this time. Bill Shankly once famously said: “I was made for Liverpool, and Liverpool was made for me.” At times it has felt as though no-one has come as close to this as Klopp has. For Atkinson, the city’s particular culture and place in society is part of what makes the football club such a compelling team to follow for many around the world. “Liverpool is also uniquely placed – in the way that, I would argue for instance, Baltimore wasn’t – to be able to be a part of global storytelling, but on a uniquely local basis.”

The language of ‘doubt’, ‘belief’, ‘hope’, and ‘community’ that permeate Klopp’s vocabulary seem to be shaped by the faith and hope he carries with him.

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This, in turn, is why Klopp’s story is the city’s story. “All of that, I think, is part of why putting that [locality] central really, really matters. And I think it’s never mattered more, ironically, than while Liverpool have gone through a bit of a global explosion under Jürgen Klopp. Many people are bought in because of what they see happening locally withing Liverpool.”

The story of the city and its people also goes some way to explaining the connection Klopp managed to cultivate with the fans. In his first press conference as Liverpool manager, one throwaway line took on a life of its own and became the motto of Klopp’s tenure: “You have to change from a doubter to a believer.”

When I ask Atkinson why this phrase resonated so much with fans, again the city itself looms large. “I think it’s a city that likes the idea of belief. That’s just there. That’s literally centuries old. I don’t think you just knock that out [out of the city].” But Atkinson is keen to stress the importance of the other part of the phrase: “I think the diagnosis of doubt is actually the reason why it catches … the doubt part’s more important than the believer part, in a way.”

Prior to Klopp, headstrong managers like Brendan Rogers and Rafa Benitez had come close to clinching Liverpool’s first English title since 1990 but, by the time Klopp joins in 2015, a growing contingent of fans became unsure that they would ever see Liverpool lift another top-flight trophy again. Klopp’s awareness of and solidarity with the growing doubt of Liverpool fans, is part of what endears him to them so quickly and is what allows him to lead the fanbase into a position of belief once again.

Despite being a man of deep religious belief himself, Klopp rarely discusses his faith publicly. “So rarely!” Atkinson agrees. “I looked for it, because it's something I like to write about and something I'm intrigued by myself. So, yeah, I looked for it, but there's never enough to hang something onto.”

As Atkinson points out, this isn’t because Klopp is afraid to share his thoughts on non-footballing maters: “He very much let us know what his opinions were on the European Union, and also wants us to agree with him, it’s worth pointing out. He didn't just have opinions on the European Union. He wanted us to agree with them. He didn't just have opinions on the vaccine. He very much wanted us to agree with him. On faith and his relationship with it, he very rarely spoke about it and so at no point has he asked anyone to agree with him.”

Again, the context of Liverpool the city begins to clarify the nature of Klopp’s belief. “And I think he sees it as something that's deeply personal. I think he sees it as something that quite possibly – I would argue, and we don’t know – transcends Church attendance. In the same way that, for instance, we have a sense of the mosque that [Mohammed] Salah and [Sadio] Mane have attended whilst they’ve been here, people in Liverpool talk; but we don't know what church Jürgen was going to. That suggests to me that quite possibly there wasn't one. Because at some point someone would have said ‘he goes to our church’ and that never really happens, unless it's something that is so, so unbelievably private. So, I think that there is something non-conformist and I think he does see it as a personal relationship, first and foremost.”

Despite this, the language of ‘doubt’, ‘belief’, ‘hope’, and ‘community’ that permeate Klopp’s vocabulary seem to be shaped by the faith and hope he carries with him. It’s also one of the things that made him such a compelling voice when he spoke out about some of the difficulties with following football. Whether it’s the overly congested nature of the footballing calendar and the issue of player welfare, the consistent presence of tragedy chanting at football matches, or the awful policing of Liverpool fans at the 2022 Champion’s League Final in Paris, Klopp always seemed able to articulate a better vision for how football, and even society, might operate.

Football supporters are more than one thing.” They are neither angels nor demons; just normal people with a hobby and a passion, and a life beyond their football club.

And so, as the conversation continues, we turn to talk about what it’s like being a match-going football fan. “Let's be clear,” Atkinson says, “there's never been some sort of unbelievably rosy moment to be a match-going football supporter … It's also worth saying that a lot of the people who still romanticize that period [i.e., football’s past] tend – but not always – tends to be white men, for whom that period was easier.”

This isn’t to say that going to football matches is always easy. Atkinson talks about being kept in the ground by police after matches (a pretty common occurrence for away fans), and the small mercy of being allowed to go to the toilet (a less common occurrence). As Atkinson alludes to at the start of our conversation, football under Covid was grim. Despite now being a televised product, games without fans present are simply not as entertaining. And yet there remains an ongoing demonisation of football fans in some sections of public discourse.

All this is perhaps why he is, somewhat despite himself, keen to see Transformer succeed. “I really want the book to be successful. And I'm quite surprised [by that] … But one of the reasons why I want the book to be successful is … [to show] that football supporters are more than one thing.” They are neither angels nor demons; just normal people with a hobby and a passion, and a life beyond their football club.

“One of the things that’s made the most people laugh I ever heard at the match – it’s not some remarkable wit – but we were at [Manchester] United once and there was some fella .. and he was shouting terrible things that were like threats and all sorts of nonsense … and some other fella shouts back in a big scouse accent, ‘Shut up! You’re just an accountant from Altringham!’” If readers get nothing else from Transformer, let it be that most football fans are as banal as accountants from Altringham.

“And that’s why I think the tragedy chanting is actually really quite deeply upsetting because the people that you’re looking at are just the same as you.” If the treatment of football fans – whether by other football fans, or by the police, or by football clubs, or by governments, or by politically-motivated quasi-national organizations – is to get better, this begins by recognizing over and over again, that they fans are just the same as you.

We start to wrap up our conversation by talking about the future for Liverpool, of life without Klopp. “There was a thing that happened last season when I was working on the book,” Atkinson says, “I could feel the dust of nostalgia settle on people in real time, of the thing happening in front of them that they were nostalgic for. And I hated that.”

It’s possible to read Transformer fundamentally as a polemic against nostalgia. It’s not just pointless for Atkinson, but actively damaging. “Nostalgia is, in general, a negative force. It’s a draining force. I genuinely do believe this. It’s a force that takes you out of the present into the past. That’s not necessarily bad, but it sends you into an idealized past, which the present will struggle to compete with.” Part of Klopp’s strength as a person and a manager was in recognizing this: “literally part of what Jürgen did when he was managing was go, ‘Stop being f***ing nostalgic. It’s happening now. You have the match now.’”

Klopp was often such a compelling figure during his time at Liverpool because he was consistently, relentlessly optimistic, occasionally to a fault: “Klopp was a massive cultural force in this country, while being an optimistic, forward-looking, progressive person … but whilst he was that person, Britain went in the opposite direction.”

And herein lies the task of carrying on Klopp’s legacy, both in Liverpool the football club, and Liverpool the city, and beyond. “Part of the challenge [facing society] is to have a message of enjoyment, of joy within it. Anyone who’s not doing that, is not facing that challenge, in any walk of life, is for me, therefore, not dealing with the core challenge … You’ve got to have the positive, progressive, ‘things will get better’ message.” And where does Jürgen draw his hope from, I wonder?

Neil Atkinson's Transformer - Klopp, the Revolution of a Club and Culture will be published on 26th September, by Canongate Books.