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Gas stations are predictable. EV chargers can be isolated, surrounded by cats, or inside casinos.

Someone out there cares for the pea soup cats, thank goodness.
In the parking lot of the Pea Soup Andersen’s in Santa Nella, a classic California stopover known for its bread bowls and towering Danish windmill, sat a Volkswagen bus, adorned with the restaurant’s faded insignia, that hadn’t been roadworthy in years. When I stopped late one night to visit the Tesla supercharger in the same lot, the predator eyes of a wire-brush kitten peered out from behind a dusty, deflated tire. It turns out an entire colony of cats had found a home in the soup jalopy, subsisting on water and kibble that a kind soul left out for them.
If cat colonies sound like a strange road trip encounter, you’re right. Gas stations are all basically the same. You pump, you pay, you visit the convenience store’s unfortunate bathroom, and you leave. EV charging stations are weird. The experience of charging an electric car means spending a chunk of time, not just a couple of minutes, wherever the plugs are, whether that’s a crowded shopping mall or deserted lot patrolled by feral cats who have realized humans leave tasty garbage behind. In the EV era, America’s culture of pit stops is set to look a lot different.
I’ve stopped at dozens of fast-charging stations in four years of driving an EV. Some, especially the large depots found along well-traveled interstate highways, will feel familiar to the interstate traveler: parking bays lined with plugs within a short walk to a convenience store. However, as companies try to keep up with rapid EV adoption in America, other stations have hardly anything by way of amenities. I’ve stopped at some that sprang up in dirt lots with nothing but a few plugs and a mobile bathroom, clearly something Tesla hustled together to accommodate a holiday rush between Los Angeles and San Francisco.
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More common in California is the outlet mall supercharger. It’s a match made in convenience, since malls have lots of available parking spaces and offer something to keep you occupied while the car charges. However, while charging during the daytime allows you to get a glass of wine at the Cheesecake Factory, needing electricity at night means sitting around a spooky garage or lot with nobody around aside from your fellow twilight chargers, wishing the stores, and their bathrooms, were open 24/7.
Other stations exist wherever a well-situated business owner decides to rent out a few stalls. Many are situated at hotels, where at least there’s a bathroom inside. The Tesla supercharger in Twentynine Palms, a town right outside Joshua Tree National Park, is at a casino, requiring patrons to navigate a gauntlet of slot jockeys and cigarette smoke to reach the restaurant or restroom. One of the closest to my house is at an In-N-Out restaurant, forcing me to wait in traffic with drive-through burger patrons just to get to the plugs. Tesla must have reached an arrangement with Runza, the beloved fast food chain in my native Nebraska that serves meat-and-cabbage Czech hot pockets, because several of the superchargers strung along the interstate are found there.
Wherever you accidentally wind up, there is the trouble of killing time, especially after hours. What do you do while your car sits for 30 minutes? Honestly, it’s an awkward chunk of time. Although many chargers are located near restaurants, the time to top off the battery isn’t long enough to complete a full sit-down meal, complete with waiting for the server to finally bring around the check (making it somebody’s responsibility to go move the car before it begins to incur idle fees). For this reason, perhaps we will see a rise in superchargers with valets, like the one in downtown Los Angeles where a person can charge an EV while going to the Lakers game.
To waste time, people do what you’d think. They work, if a pressing email comes in between stops. They sleep. They walk the dog. They play the peculiar versions of solitaire or other games built into the car’s touchscreen. If they pay ten dollars a month for Tesla’s “Premium Connectivity,” they might watch Netflix or Disney+ to fill the empty minutes. According to some social media posts, they do drugs, squeeze in a workout, or, occasionally, if nobody’s around, have sex. Mostly, people kill time at the charger the same way they do on the couch: by playing on their phones.
Yet the rise of the EV also offers the chance to reinvent the rest stop, to create something from the ground up designed for electric drivers with 30 or 40 minutes to kill. Tesla CEO Elon Musk wants to build a 32-stall supercharger in Hollywood alongside a retro drive-in theater that screens movies, and slings hamburgers, to Tesla drivers while their big lithium-ion batteries refill.
On the road to full electrification, we should expect a variety of EV charging experiences to arise, replacing the universal gas-and-go service station stop. Here’s hoping you can still get beef jerky, inexplicable CDs, and a crappy cup of coffee.
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The former ExxonMobil CEO left his legacy both on the Earth and in the sky.
Lee Raymond, the former ExxonMobil chief executive who became one of the country’s most important and influential climate science deniers, died in Dallas on Saturday. His death was announced today.
Raymond would probably count as a world-historic figure even if viewed only through the lens of the fossil fuel business. As Exxon’s chief executive, he personally negotiated the company’s merger with Mobil, creating the modern oil and gas juggernaut ExxonMobil in 2000 — and uniting two major pieces of the old Standard Oil monopoly. He ran Exxon from 1993 to 1999, and then ExxonMobil until 2005, at a crucial period in the history of that company, turning it from a diversified conglomerate that sold office furniture, real estate, and uranium fuel into a streamlined and exorbitantly profitable oil and gas business. Even before taking over the company, he managed its response to the disastrous Exxon Valdez oil spill; he later oversaw a worker safety push that would be widely copied by the industry.
In a way, he transformed Exxon from a company that was itself a portfolio — that distinguished itself via managerial competence across business lines — into a ruthlessly focused oil and gas supermajor meant to sit inside other people’s portfolios and churn out cash. Under his leadership, ExxonMobil became the world’s most profitable publicly traded company; it later lost that title to Apple.
Yet even if Raymond had merely played a bit part in the history of oil and gas, he would remain essential to the modern ordeal of climate change. Today, people throw around the “climate change denier” label often enough that it has lost some of its charge. But Raymond was the genuine article, a true villain. It was Raymond who turned ExxonMobil into one of the world’s most important funders of falsehood and denial about fundamental climate science research.
Raymond, an engineer by training, straightforwardly rejected the mainstream scientific consensus that carbon dioxide emissions from fossil fuels cause climate change. Even though Exxon’s in-house climate research arm knew by the late 1970s that “there is no doubt” fossil fuels worsened the “potential problem of CO2 in the atmosphere,” Raymond did everything he could to elevate more industry-friendly perspectives. And he was willing to muddy the truth to win.
Under Raymond’s leadership, Exxon spent millions of dollars funding a shadowy network of think tanks and pseudo-scientific groups who published memos, briefings, and advertisements meant to cast doubt on climate change. As the journalist Steve Coll wrote in his book Private Empire,
Under Lee Raymond, ExxonMobil had persistently funded a public policy campaign in Washington and elsewhere that was transparently designed to raise public skepticism about the science that identified fossil fuels as a cause of global warming. ExxonMobil ran some aspects of its campaign clandestinely; that is, it did not initially disclose the full scope and purpose of contributions it made. […] What distinguished the corporation's activity during the late 1990s and the first Bush term was the way it crossed into disinformation.
In his capacity as CEO, Raymond made it clear that he personally rejected bedrock science. “Is the Earth really warming? Does burning fossil fuels cause global warming? And do we now have a reasonable scientific basis for predicting future temperature?,” he asked rhetorically during a 1997 meeting of the World Petroleum Congress in Beijing.
He answered all three questions in the negative, concluding, “Let’s agree there’s a lot we really don't know about how climate will change in the 21st century and beyond.” (In fact, we now know that even ExxonMobil’s primitive in-house climate models, then 20 years old, basically got global warming right.) He also claimed — we now know incorrectly — that any policy passed in the 1990s would be “very unlikely” to affect the future trajectory of mid-21st-century emissions declines.
The campaign worked. Exxon’s activism during this period, conducted sub and supra rosa, helped prevent the passage of major global and domestic climate policy in the 1990s; it also kept the United States from developing expertise in the solar, wind, and battery industries that other countries now dominate.
One of the ironies of this era is that much of modern climate science is derived from oil geology. You cannot grasp the all-important role that carbon plays in the Earth system — the way it has functioned as the thermostat for Earth’s climate over the long run — without a rich understanding of what the fossil record tells us about the Permian, Carboniferous, or the Upper Jurassic periods.
Take the Permian, for instance: When it began 299 million years ago, the Earth was relatively cool, with atmospheric CO2 levels somewhere around 200 to 400 parts per million. But soon enormous volcanoes ignited subterranean stores of fossil fuels, dumping thousands of gigatons of carbon into the atmosphere and initiating an era of rapid global warming and ocean acidification. When the Permian ended 252 million years ago in the largest mass extinction in Earth’s history — an annihilation that climate scientists call “the Great Dying” — atmospheric CO2 was closer to 2,500 parts per million.
When Lee Raymond was born in South Dakota in 1938, the atmosphere’s CO2 concentration sat at about 311 parts per million. When he died last week, it read 421 parts per million. Look at it this way, I suppose: Many people would feel captive to a change of that magnitude. But Raymond did something about it.
The Science Based Targets Initiative just released a major update to its signature rulebook for setting climate goals.
Companies have a new rulebook for what constitutes credible climate action. The Science Based Targets Initiative, an organization that seeks to align corporate sustainability plans with the goals of the Paris Agreement, published a major update to its signature Net Zero Standard on Thursday designed to help companies assess their progress on climate goals, not just set them.
The update marks a significant expansion of the standard, which previously defined what a good corporate emissions target looked like, but did not say much about how to achieve it. The new version sets requirements for what companies must do to prove they are advancing toward their benchmarks.
“The standard is moving from being focused on ambition only to really focused on implementation,” Alberto Carrillo Pineda, the SBTi’s co-founder and chief technical officer, told me.
This accompanies a broader rhetorical shift in the standard, which asks companies to demonstrate progress on a “best-efforts basis” rather than judging them solely on absolute emissions reductions. In the foreword to the standard, Chair Francesco Starace says that the SBTi made “an explicit choice to recognize that companies do not control everything, and that pretending otherwise does not serve anyone.”
That ethos permeates the revisions and additions to the standard. Here’s a breakdown of some of the biggest changes.
Version 2 of the standard introduces a new “implementation hierarchy.” Companies must first do everything in their power to reduce emissions directly. Once they have exhausted those options, they can then pursue indirect actions such as buying renewable energy certificates or certificates for low-carbon cement.
This isn’t just a guideline. It’s a reporting requirement. Companies are asked to “document and demonstrate” all of the actions they have assessed and implemented to reduce their emissions directly, as well as to define the constraints to pursuing additional reductions. They also have to describe their indirect actions and explain how they “complement, and do not substitute for” direct reductions.
The updated standard differentiates between larger and smaller companies, and those based in higher-income and lower-income countries, recognizing that the former in both cases will have an easier time decarbonizing than the latter.
Larger companies in higher-income countries, referred to as “category A companies” are required to set near-term, five-year targets for all emissions related to their businesses, whether they fall under scope 1, 2 or 3. All others are required to set targets only for scope 1 and 2. Category A companies are also required to verify much of their reporting to the SBTi with a third party, while this is optional for other companies.
The updated standard clarifies that in order for renewable energy certificates to count toward a company’s scope 2 target, they must be “deliverable,” or purchased from a clean energy source within the same grid region as the company. That means a company with offices or factories in Idaho can’t buy certificates from a solar farm in Florida. (The standard does seem to offer some wiggle room on that rule to companies with many locations.)
An earlier draft of the new standard released last year would have required that companies set targets for purchasing hourly-matched, deliverable clean electricity. That would mean looking at their energy consumption for every hour they operate and setting a goal to match it with an equivalent amount of locally produced clean power for a certain percentage of hours.
Much to the disappointment of proponents of this strategy, however, that’s not in the final standard. Companies can set scope 2 targets on an annual matching basis, meaning they can effectively claim they consumed solar power at night and will not have to do the hard work of trying to clean up the harder-to-decarbonize hours of the day.
The standard does, however, require those larger companies in category A to at least report the percentage of their energy use that they have matched with clean power on an hourly basis. This reporting rule aligns with a proposal by the Greenhouse Gas Protocol, a separate corporate standard-setter focused on emissions accounting. The SBTi also aims to encourage companies to make progress on hourly-matched clean power by creating a new dashboard showing which companies have exceeded certain benchmarks — 50% until 2030, 75% until 2035, and 90% from that year onward.
Previously, regular old carbon credits like the kind that pay a Brazilian landowner not to cut down trees or fund a methane capture system at a landfill had no place in the SBTi’s net-zero standard. Also, while the “net-zero” in the name implied that companies should eventually begin investing in carbon removal credits to make up for any residual emissions, the earlier version did not say when they should start doing that.
Now, the SBTi says it will require category A companies to begin covering some of their ongoing emissions with carbon removal beginning in 2035. Because companies are only required to set targets in five year increments, they won’t have to report on those efforts for several years. But the carbon removal industry will require investment now to be able to meet demand in 2035, so companies will likely need to begin buying credits today in order to meet that deadline.
Prior to 2035, companies will be able to earn kudos for purchasing carbon avoidance and removal credits by participating in something the SBTi is calling the “ongoing emissions responsibility program.” The program has three tiers that will recognize companies that are contributing to a lower, medium, and high degrees of carbon mitigation, ranked either by tallying dollars spent or tons of carbon abated. Companies will still not be allowed to count these credits when measuring progress toward their targets, however.
One question hanging over the news is whether the SBTi’s definition of a “science based target” is still appropriate. The organization requires companies to calibrate their targets to be consistent with limiting warming to 1.5 degrees Celsius above pre-industrial levels by the end of the century. But many scientists believe the world has already warmed more than 1.5 degrees. In theory, cooling the planet back down to this level by 2100 is still possible with a huge amount of carbon removal, but it appears exceedingly unlikely.
“Of course, there is healthy scientific debate about what is the most likely temperature outcome, so that's something that we are aware of,” Pineda said when I asked about this. “But we maintain the focus to catalyze transformation consistent with achieving net-zero emissions by mid-century.”
Pineda may have been downplaying how much the SBTi has considered this. After our call, I did a search for “1.5°” in the new version of the standard and the old one. The temperature target appeared 59 times in the old document, but just once in the new one, and only in the executive summary, where it was used to describe the SBTi’s larger mission as an organization. Nevertheless, the standard continues to emphasize a long-term goal of net-zero emissions by 2050, and there is no indication that the underlying modeled decarbonization pathways that the SBTi uses to validate targets are going to change.
SpaceX and Tesla have produced executives and founders across the clean energy world. Here’s what they had to say about working for their former boss.
While SpaceX founder and Tesla CEO Elon Musk is often lauded for turning technology like reusable rockets and American-made electric vehicles into thriving businesses in a way long thought impossible, or at least improbable, he has also more quietly done something about as unlikely: get investors excited about capital-intensive hard tech startups.
For most of the time Musk was sleeping on the floor of Tesla’s factory to oversee Model 3 assembly and his rockets were riding across the country on the back of flatbed trucks, the venture capitalists that fund the next generation of technology companies were largely enamored with software businesses, which required little capital to start up and could scale quickly with accelerating profitability.
Today, thanks in no small part to Musk, hard tech companies are able to raise hundreds of millions of dollars within a few years of being starting up, with top-flight venture capital firms such as Andreessen Horowitz building whole funds devoted to the broad sector.
That investor interest has helped nurture a series of startups founded and led by former SpaceX and Tesla employees. These types of businesses don’t have the forgiving characteristics of software companies; instead, they’re often incredibly capital intensive, and require years of design and manufacturing before profits show up. Climate tech and energy companies almost inevitably fall in this category, often working on trying to turn technology that may mostly exist in a lab with nascent markets and high barriers to scale into something that can generate real returns for investors.
To mark the occasion of SpaceX’s initial public offering, Heatmap decided to survey the landscape of SpaceX and Tesla alumni now cutting their own swath through the climate tech marketplace. We identified 40 founders and executives, who all together spent a total of 252 years working for Musk. They’ve since moved on to companies in 9 different industries, from Musk-adjacent categories such as batteries and electric vehicles to carbon removal and grid tech. Cumulatively they’ve raised at least $27 billion, according to the data available in Crunchbase. (Since we finalized this list, one more Musk alum-founded company has emerged from stealth. Welcome to the world, Ambrosia Energy.)
Heatmap asked these founders and executives by email what they learned from their experiences working at Musk-led companies, and we heard back from more than a dozen of them. The vast majority of those told us it was no accident that they’d ended up where they have after working for Musk.
“While working at Tesla, I was surrounded by people who were there for the hard stuff and thrived on it,” Mateo Jaramillo, co-founder and CEO of the long-duration battery company Form Energy and a former Tesla Energy vice president, told us. “It's not just that they tolerated it — that was the stuff they lived for. There are moments in a company's arc when that kind of mentality is required, and at Tesla in those days it was like walking through a crucible every single day, with truly no idea how things were going to resolve. And yet you keep going and figure it out along the way.”
Musk himself has been a formidable digester of investor capital, including from Founders Fund, the venture capital firm founded by his former PayPal colleague Peter Thiel, which invested in SpaceX before its first successful launch.
Founders Fund has since become an investor in several Musk-alumni-founded companies, including the fuel enrichment startup General Matter, the geothermal company Endurance Energy, and the hydrogen company Hgen.
Another frequent investor, Andreessen Horowitz, had previously been the great promoter of software businesses. Its cofounders Marc Andreessen and Ben Horowitz wrote the seminal essay “Why Software Is Eating The World,” which became a manifesto for its investments in businesses like Facebook (now Meta) and Twitter (now X). Since then, a16z, as it’s known, has expanded its remit and invested in several Musk-alumni founded companies, including the power electronics company Heron Power, the mining services company Mariana Minerals, electric boat company Arc, and home battery company Base Power.
These investments are not just simply giving money to Tesla and SpaceX employees to do the same things they did in their previous jobs. Many of the companies we looked at were founded by SpaceX alumni and have nothing to do with space, rockets, or satellites.
Mike Schroepfer, former Meta chief technical officer and founder of hard tech VC firm Gigascale Capital, which has invested in Heron and Form, as well as clean power and carbon removal company Arbor and nuclear microreactor company Radiant, told us that when founders have a Musk company on their resume, it tells him “they’ve been trained to build in the physical world, which is rarer than people think.”
And what’s rare can be profitable.
“Hardware is capital-intensive for the best possible reason” Schroepfer said. “You’re building the foundations the world runs on, and those things have to work reliably and get cheaper as they scale. The dollar figure tells you investors are starting to take the physical world seriously again.”
Philip Schröder, who left the European battery startup Sonnen to run Tesla’s Germany and Austria business, told us that after he rejoined his former company, the European battery startup, they were able to raise “one of the largest cleantech financing rounds in Europe.”
It’s not just raising money where a SpaceX or Tesla pedigree helps. Many former employees of the two companies left with enough of a financial cushion to take a risk on something new. When asked how being part of SpaceX helped him found his own company, John Bucknell, who worked on the Raptor rocket engine at SpaceX, said that having worked for Musk gave him the “financial freedom” necessary to start a company — in his case Virtus Solis, which is developing solar power in space.
But it also doesn’t hurt when raising money to put a SpaceX or Tesla logo on a slide deck, considering the size of returns they’ve generated for their backers.
Former Tesla employees have started and run some of the buzziest and best funded battery, transportation, and electrical infrastructure companies in the world. These include Lucid Motors, led until recently by former Tesla VP of vehicle engineering Peter Rawlinson, battery recycling company Redwood Materials, founded by former Tesla chief technical officer J.B. Straubel, and Heron Power, founded by Drew Baglino, who worked at Tesla from 2006 to 2024, ending his career there leading its powertrain and energy divisions.
When asked how their current work was connected to their past work for Musk or what they had learned, the founders and executives we surveyed — especially the SpaceX alumni — focused more on management and engineering principles than anything specific to energy or transportation.
“You can get way more done in a day and can move way faster than you think,” Justin Lopas, the co-founder of the home battery company Base Power, and a former manufacturing engineer at SpaceX, told us of what he’d learned from Musk.
Musk’s legendary short deadlines (which he says he only expects to hit about half the time) came up frequently among the group. Describing his time at Tesla, Arch Rao, the founder and chief executive of the smart electric panel company Span and a former head of products at Tesla Energy, told us, “The milestones to hit were incredibly audacious, but with the right group of people, possible. This has been a key model for how Span has scaled from the very early days to today.”
Jonathan Criss, the co-founder and chief executive of the desalination company Vital Lyfe, who worked at SpaceX for over a decade on both the Dragon spacecraft and the satellite communications service Starlink, told us that the rocket company had a unique “building for rate” philosophy, where engineers work backwards from a specific production goal, as opposed to first designing a product and then figuring out how to manufacture it as cheaply as possible. “That capability lets us design and manufacture highly reliable products at a fraction of the cost of most of the industry,” Criss said.
Investors, too, recognize SpaceX and Tesla alumni’s ability to work fast. Schroepfer, of Gigascale Capital, told us that speed sets these founders apart. “They know physical products can take years to get from first unit to cost-competitive scale. Even with a long timeline, they move with urgency,” he said. “They get how iteration and cost-down curves only work if you move fast, learn fast, and scale deliberately.”
Several founders also talked about learning to challenge assumptions. “At Tesla, there was a strong culture of questioning established ways of doing things,” Enric Asuncion, the co-founder and CEO of the EV charging company Wallbox who worked as a program manager for vehicle charging at Tesla, told us. Austin Spiegel, the co-founder and CEO of the infrastructure management software company Sift and a former software engineer at SpaceX, said that his former employer never accepted that something was good enough just because it existed. “Instead of buying off-the-shelf software, they asked, what would this look like if we designed it for a company that's going to launch and land rockets for the first time? That stuck with me.”
A former product engineer for Tesla’s Powerwall battery business, Cole Ashman, gave another example. He described how, for years, enabling a home to island from the power grid during a blackout required a labor-intensive, expensive electrical job. Tesla engineered a backup switch that was quicker and easier to install, but it required utility cooperation. “Conventional wisdom said it would never get broad approval,” Ashman, who founded the battery startup Pila, told us. “Tesla did the unglamorous work of bringing utilities along and moving the codes and standards — and pulled the whole industry forward.”
The other management concept that came up frequently was “ownership,” the idea of devolving responsibility down to engineers who were directly responsible for the projects they were working on. Working at SpaceX “taught me how to run a challenging hardware development program: how to choose and organize engineers around a tough unsolved problem, and give each of them real ownership from concept to mission success,” Colin Ho, founder and chief technology officer at the electrolyzer company Hgen, told us.
Frank Tybor, the chief technology officer at Infravision, the drone grid maintenance company and a former launch engineer at SpaceX, told us that “one of the things that made SpaceX special was the concentration of exceptionally talented people who were willing to take ownership of difficult problems and work across traditional organizational boundaries to solve them.”
Andreessen has endorsed the description of Musk-run companies and SpaceX specifically as a “zone of shocking competence” that attracts the best engineers, which its alumni founders have tried to recreate. Justin Cohen, the founder and CEO of Maritime Fusion who did stints at both Tesla and SpaceX, told us the talent network was “analogous to SEAL Team 6 of engineering; there is no better on earth.”
Several mentioned the Musk alumni network as a recruitment resource for their own businesses. “Tesla has cultivated a highly passionate ecosystem of engineers and tech developers,” Rao, the Span founder, told us. “My experience at Tesla helped me quickly identify what a skillful talent pool looks like and expect rapid and ambitious development from them.”
Brad Hartwig, a former SpaceX manufacturing engineer and founder and chief executive of Arbor Energy told us that “several early Arbor employees came from SpaceX, and that shared experience helped us build a world-class engineering team quickly. Many of us have worked on complex, high-stakes technology; we’ve already proven that we can execute in demanding environments, which helps when building a hard-tech company from scratch.”
When asked to name specific, non-Musk employees that influenced them, one name came up more than another: J.B. Straubel, the former Tesla chief technology officer and founder of Redwood Materials.
“Straubel is easily one of the smartest yet incredibly humble engineers and leaders I’ve had the opportunity to work with,” Rao told us.
Straubel, along with Heron Power’s Drew Baglino, “were both influential in how they helped solve complex problems within the company while dealing with constant pressure on cash & company survival,” Kunal Girotra, former Tesla Energy chief and founder of the battery company Lunar Energy, told us.
Jaramillo, the Form Energy founder, also singled out Straubel and Baglino, saying, “They’re very different people from each other, but both technically world class, with incredibly high standards. They drove that mindset into their teams from an engineering perspective — to never compromise on those standards.” About Straubel specifically, Jaramillo said that he had an “amazingly calibrated impatience, to know precisely when enough study is done, to just push start and get going in the physical world, and accept that you're going to learn things along the way.”
While Musk and his legions of former employees have helped turn hard tech and climate tech into an investible sector for venture capitalists, the amount of money the companies we’ve looked at have raised — about $30 billion — pales in comparison to the hottest sector, artificial intelligence. Even SpaceX, the signature hard tech company of its era, is itself running a massive “neo-cloud” business, renting out data center capacity to companies like Anthropic and Google to the tune of around $2 billion a month.
That being said, Tesla and SpaceX, which together are worth around $3 trillion, will continue to produce engineers and managers with sizable net worths and resumes uniquely looked favorably on by investors.
More than 4,000 current and former SpaceX employees are expected to become instant millionaires after the IPO, with 400 potentially getting at least $100 million, generating a wave of wealth that can give potential founders the cushion necessary to found their own company — or the capital necessary to become investors themselves.
“I think this is the emergence of a hardware mafia,” Schroepfer told us. “The PayPal mafia helped define an era of software and internet companies. This group will probably define an era where the center of gravity moves back toward atoms: energy, industry, mobility, infrastructure, manufacturing, and the physical systems that modern life depends on.”
Editor’s note: This story has been updated to correct the description of Arbor Energy.