So sorry, Elon Musk, but the bromance is not going to last. I know the president-elect put you on the phone with President Volodymyr Zelensky of Ukraine the night after the election. And I know that in Donald Trump’s victory speech, after obligatory but abbreviated nods to his “beautiful wife,” his “amazing children” and his “feisty” vice president-elect, he celebrated your super-genius as only he could, in a disjointed, discombobulated, wildly overextended paean and declaration of love. “Oh, let me tell you, we have a new star,” he said. “A star is born, Elon.”

Yet therein lies your problem, Mr. Musk. There’s room for only one star, one genius in the Trump White House. As the president-elect has told us time and again, he is one smart fellow and a “very stable genius.” He is not going to share his victory and center stage with anyone. And why should he? What more would you have to offer, having spent in excess of $100 million to help secure his election?

Mr. Trump may be mercurial, but in this situation he is highly unlikely to break historical precedent. I predict that you will probably join the long list of genius businessmen donors who were casually discarded after they had served their purpose.

Andrew Carnegie — who was at the time, just like you, the richest man in the world — was a stalwart and generous contributor to the Republican presidents William McKinley and Theodore Roosevelt. Carnegie naturally assumed that he would, in return for his support and in recognition of his genius and one-on-one relationships with Europe’s elected leaders and crowned heads, be called upon as chief foreign policy adviser when Roosevelt assumed the presidency in 1901, after McKinley’s assassination. As such, he bombarded the White House with his recommendations for arbitration treaties between the major powers, which he believed would usher in a century of peace. His advice was dutifully acknowledged by Roosevelt — then ignored.

And William Randolph Hearst? Mr. Musk, you’ve got your millions of social media followers, but your outreach still pales in comparison with Hearst’s in his heyday: 28 big-city newspapers, a syndicated wire service, radio stations, newsreels and 13 magazines. Hearst’s contributions to Franklin Roosevelt’s 1932 presidential campaign were, like yours to Mr. Trump’s, extensive and varied. In addition to huge financial assistance, Hearst used his media empire to conduct virulent and near-daily assaults on the incumbent, Herbert Hoover.

The day after the election, Hearst’s wife, Millicent, sent a telegram to say that she “had seen Roosevelt last night. He said he was going to telephone you. You are getting all the credit for this victory from everybody I meet.” Hearst responded by forwarding his recommendations for cabinet appointments and an 11-point recovery plan, only to be ghosted by the president-elect: no letters, no telegrams, no phone calls. Almost two months later, Roosevelt finally issued an invitation to Hearst to visit him for private talks. The publisher declined, later producing a feature-length film, based on a novel, in which a guardian angel instructs a weak and unprepared president.

We are having trouble retrieving the article content.

Please enable JavaScript in your browser settings.

Thank you for your patience while we verify access. If you are in Reader mode please exit and log into your Times account, or subscribe for all of The Times.

Thank you for your patience while we verify access.

Already a subscriber? Log in.

Want all of The Times? Subscribe.777rainbow

• The
• and
• Trump
• 777rainbow
• Musk