Welcome back to The Stratosphere. I’m Teddy Schleifer.

Today, news on an intriguing gathering of Biden antagonists and the Trump curious at David Sacks’ home in the Hollywood Hills earlier this month. Hundreds of billions of dollars of wealth and political influence, led by Elon Musk, clustered in one room to discuss some of America’s most pressing issues. What did they decide, and to what end?

If someone forwarded you this email, or you’ve yet to join Puck, consider this the perfect moment to subscribe. I’ll see you on the other side of the paywall.

Teddy

The get-together, which hasn’t been previously reported, is the latest evidence of Musk’s growing power beyond Silicon Valley, as he’s evolved from political hobbyist to media owner and conservative icon. As I wrote last week, Musk has told associates that he’s interested in formalizing his running political commentary on Twitter/X into an official endorsement of some sort—either a statement against President Biden, or even something supporting Donald Trump. He has been encouraged to go deeper into politics this cycle by his friends Joe Lonsdale, the venture capitalist, and Steve Wynn, the casino magnate and Trump emissary. Both in public and in private, Musk has expressed feeling deeply unnerved by America’s migrant crisis—a fear that has driven his rush into Republican politics—and the issue was a key topic of discussion at the dinner. (Spokespeople for Musk, Sacks, and the other attendees either declined to comment or didn’t respond.)

It wasn’t an explicitly pro-Trump gathering, I’m told. After all, wealthy people with diverse political opinions also gather and share meals, and being anti-Biden doesn’t necessarily mean you’re pulling for the other guy. But the summit was obviously political. One person briefed on the dinner by multiple attendees said they were told that the discussion, in large part, coalesced around how to raise money to beat back the Democrats nationally.

Maybe down the line. So far, at least, Musk has acted as more of a thought leader than a fundraiser, leaving the grubby work of donor wrangling to Sacks, his buddy dating back to their PayPal days. Sacks, as I recently reported, is in the process of planning a Trump fundraiser in San Francisco as soon as next month. Sacks’ All-In podcast “bestie,” Chamath Palihapitiya, a former Democrat, is also expected to be involved.

The planned event would mark an evolution for Sacks, too. As several people pointed out to me last week, Sacks has made a number of anti-Trump comments on his podcast, declaring the former president to have “disqualified himself from being a candidate at a national level again” after January 6. But Mar-a-Lago, clearly, is affording him some grace. After all, Sacks has amassed serious cultural influence over the last few years, in large part thanks to All-In and its cult following. His political superpower has been more as a convener than as a major donor (some G.O.P. operatives consider him a cheapskate and waste of time), but he is clearly effective as a bundler of friends, and now is turning toward being a bundler of checks.

That networking power was evidenced in the guest list for the Hollywood Hills event, curated by Musk and Sacks. Milken, despite being pardoned by Trump, is far less preoccupied with politics than with his eponymous institute’s conference, which kicks off next week. Kalanick might hate the media and resent his defenestration at Uber, but friends say he has displayed hardly any interest in political engagement. Others are more politically obsessed: Mnuchin, a banker turned Hollywood producer turned Trump Treasury secretary, has fewer friends in Silicon Valley, although he has expressed interest in buying TikTok. Murdoch and Elon have a close relationship, and James sits on the Tesla board. And then there is Thiel, who has had a falling-out with Trump, and while he and Musk remain friends, they are not especially close after their own falling-out back in the early PayPal days.

Of course, there is a countervailing group of people around Musk—friends, but also long-frustrated Tesla shareholders—who would prefer that he ignore Sacks and focus on his extraordinary businesses. But, increasingly, it’s just as difficult to imagine Musk giving up his newfound political influence and activism as it is to imagine that he stops tweeting. Musk, like Trump, is seemingly driven almost as much by a desire for attention as for the economic rewards of his success. And it’s clear that wherever he goes, other conservative business leaders, as well as former Democrats in tech, will follow him. There is no leader with a more cult-like audience in business and, increasingly, in the culture.