The Broligarchy’s Complaints Are Without Substance. Unfortunately, That Won’t Stop Them.

At President Trump’s inauguration last month, while thousands of supporters huddled together in the freezing cold, proudly holding better seats than members of his own cabinet, an unconventional set of attendees was present: the Broligarchy. This term, coined by novelist Jonathan Franzen back in 2010, has been used to describe the tech and finance robber-barons who once scoffed at Trumpism, and applies to a clique of opportunistic elites who have rebranded themselves as allies of the President. Their aggrieved vision of America, however, is as substanceless as it is self-serving. 

The Broligarchy’s complaints range widely from the absurd to the conspiratorial. For example, on a Jan. 10th episode of The Joe Rogan Experience, Mark Zuckerberg bemoaned the lack of “masculine energy” in corporate America. Some on the right, I’m sure, will embrace these vague cultural grievances because they suit their narrative, but in reality, The World Bank found that women make up less than a third of the world’s workforce in technology-related fields. Zuck’s attempted rebrand as an MMA loving, free-speech warrior should be seen as nothing but a cynical play for power and influence with the new boss. When Obama-era liberalism was in control of the levers of power, Zuckerberg worshiped at that altar, and now that orange is the new black, he’s wasted no time reorienting himself in that direction.     

Elon Musk, a former supporter of Barack Obama in 2008, Hillary Clinton in 2016, and Joe Biden in 2020, has taken a sharp right turn to align himself with Trump and other fringe narratives. This trend began developing several years ago, but Musk has only increased his signals of allegiance to the extremes, endorsing an X post in 2023 that referenced an antisemitic conspiracy theory claiming that “hordes of minorities” are flooding Western countries and that Jews have been “pushing hatred” against white people. Musk’s response to this post, stating “You have said the actual truth,” speaks volumes about his willingness to amplify dangerous rhetoric. Most recently, Musk told Germany’s far-right AfD party that the country should move beyond its “past guilt,” an inflammatory statement made only days after he performed what objectively resembled a Nazi salute after President Trump’s inauguration. As the saying goes, if it talks like a duck and “heils” like a duck, it might be a duck. Musk’s actions leave little room for ambiguity about the path he’s chosen and where his values lie. 

The real goal of the Broligarchy is not cultural renewal or political reform–it’s power. The Broligarchy does not want to fix America; they want to profit from its current dysfunction. Trump and his transactional nature provide a unique opportunity for these billionaires to enrich themselves. Massive tax cuts for the ultra-wealthy, reminiscent of those passed during Trump’s first term, remain the crown jewel of their ambitions. They see this fleeting political moment as their chance to extract as much power as possible, dressing up their profiteering in typical Trumpian grievance-laced parlance. While they claim to champion America’s future, the reality is that their interests align only with their bank accounts. Trump, ever the dealmaker, is more than happy to oblige. The relationship is simple: they fund his campaigns and lend him credibility, and he gives them deregulation, favorable tax policies, and relaxed oversight.

Despite their varying ideologies, the Broligarchy is united by a few key objectives; chief among them is control over media networks and narratives. Zuckerberg’s manipulation of Facebook algorithms shapes what millions of Americans see and believe. Musk’s acquisition of Twitter (or X) ensures his personal influence over public discourse, an influence he wields blatantly for his own ambitions. This control of media narratives not only benefits their bottom lines, but it also secures their influence over Trump himself. The Broligarchy doesn’t just want to shape public opinion—they want to ensure their power remains unchallenged, no matter who gets exploited in the process.

Trump’s willingness to engage in this symbiotic relationship is just as unsurprising. As a purely transactional figure who measures loyalty in dollars, cents, and fealty, he has no qualms about letting the Broligarchy reap the rewards of his policies. He is, after all, a part of their class. They, in turn, shower him with praise and financial backing, ensuring that the cycle continues. The arrangement is as hollow as their grievances but no less effective. 

The Broligarchy’s complaints may lack substance, but their influence is anything but trivial. Their opportunistic alliance with Trump highlights the fragility of political principles when profit is at stake. By leveraging their wealth and media control, they’ve inserted themselves into a pivotal moment in American history, not as stewards of progress but as profiteers in a rigged game. Unfortunately, the hollowness of their rhetoric won’t stop them from shaping harmful narratives. Their complaints may be distractions, but their actions–and the consequences for the rest of us–are all too real. In the end, the Broligarchy’s true legacy will not be the grievances they aired but the damage they’ve done to our society in pursuit of profit.