When Builders Follow Billionaires: Notes from a Small Business, a Marriage, and a Shifting America

I’ve spent the better part of my adult life alongside a man who believes in building things from the ground up. We’ve started businesses, raise small children together, weathered economic storms—without much of a safety net and certainly without any venture capital. We’ve been scrappy, hopeful, and sometimes exhausted. You could call us working-class entrepreneurs, though we never used the term.

My husband has been a lifelong liberal Democrat, deeply committed to fairness, policy, and equity. Recently, I've noticed a shift in the voices he's listening to, increasingly turning to tech personalities such as Marc Andreessen, who champion a libertarian vision driven by "builders." I understand why these ideas appeal—especially during economically uncertain times when entrepreneurial dreams seem harder to realize than in previous generations.

This isn’t a criticism of my husband; rather, it’s an exploration of the delicate balance between commitment and concern, optimism and caution, anthropology and algorithms.

The Seductive Power of the Builder Myth

Andreessen’s narrative is compelling, encapsulated in his assertion that "It's time to build," emphasizing the urgent need for radical innovation and entrepreneurial freedom. It honors hard work, late nights, innovation, and individual grit—qualities my husband and countless other Americans genuinely embody. The message validates feelings of frustration and offers a powerful promise: your struggles are not your fault but rather the consequence of external systems holding you back.

Yet beneath the surface, this narrative carries a troubling contradiction. The very tech elites advocating for dismantling existing systems are those who have benefited immensely from them. It's akin to changing the rules of the game precisely at the moment you're winning—dismantling the bridge once you've safely crossed it. This inconsistency highlights a deeper motivation: the consolidation of more power and wealth by a small, already privileged group.

Andreessen’s worldview is seductive—especially for those in tech. It flatters you. If you’ve ever worked late into the night, if you’ve ever solved a problem no one else could, if you’ve ever felt stifled by bureaucracy or drowned in taxes—you are a “builder.” And according to his logic, builders are what civilization needs most. The rest—critics, regulators, even teachers—are obstacles. That message lands differently when you’ve felt invisible for years. Especially for men of a certain age, in a rapidly changing culture, it offers something potent: status restoration. You’re not out of step; you’re just ahead of the curve. You’re not being pushed out; you’re being silenced because you’re powerful. That flips the script in a way that feels empowering. But this story—like many billionaire-funded narratives—is not built for the working entrepreneur. It’s built to protect the idea that wealth = wisdom, and that those who have amassed power should be listened to, not questioned.

An Anthropological Perspective

Anthropology teaches us that stories shape behavior more than facts. Facts can be massaged by the viewpoint of the speaker and the audience. The story of the rugged individualist builder—white, male, self-made—is an American myth that’s being rebooted by people like Andreessen in podcasts, manifestos, and coded tweets. It merges Silicon Valley libertarianism with populist suspicion of institutions.

The problem is: it’s not real. Billionaires aren’t scrappy. They aren’t system outsiders. They’re architects of the very landscape that working-class business owners are trying to survive in. Following their philosophies often leads to policies that gut labor protections, weaken public institutions, and further monopolize wealth—all while pretending it’s for the benefit of the “little guy.”

It’s like taking parenting advice from someone whose kids are raised by a staff of ten, and who insists it’s all about “grit.”

Listening for Balance

What worries me isn’t that my husband is thinking differently. It’s that the thinking is interrupted by buzzwords. As they pile up, conclusions are handed out prepackaged, with no room for questions. In an effort to stay open—and maybe to understand him better—I’ve been intentionally adding podcasts to my own rotation that I normally wouldn’t reach for.

I’m trying to hear what he hears, to sit with other perspectives, and to find where the sense of urgency and disillusionment is coming from. Some of these voices are compelling. As I listen, I can tease out indicators of intelligence and experience. Yet, I become frustrated with rhetorical leaps and philosophical jargon that seem disconnected from the realities of most Americans. The information presented doesn't feel cookie crumbed enough to follow the reasoning and has a performative air to it. It's as if to reinforce to the listener, "If you were as smart as me you'd understand, and if you don't get it, you'll never get anywhere."

But this exercise in effort has reminded me of one thing: criticism is only useful if it’s paired with curiosity.

A Window Into Tech’s New Ideological Landscape

These are a few podcasts and personalities I’ve been listening to—not necessarily because I agree, but because I want to understand:

1. The Portal – Eric Weinstein

Philosophical and conspiratorial, Weinstein mixes math, power structures, and cultural commentary with an anti-institutional bent.

2. The All-In Podcast Hosted by prominent venture capitalists, this podcast blends Silicon Valley bravado with libertarian populism and pro-business policy rants.

3. Lex Fridman Podcast A thoughtful, often techno-utopian show that interviews everyone from Elon Musk to military generals and philosophers.

4. Honestly with Bari Weiss

A contrarian voice who platforms critiques of progressive culture in the name of free speech and individual liberty.

5. Marc Andreessen (via Twitter Spaces, interviews, and essays) While not a podcaster himself, Andreessen’s ideas reverberate across shows like Bankless, EconTalk, and The Tim Ferriss Show—espousing a hardline belief in builders, disruption, and techno-optimism.

These voices offer a glimpse into the emerging culture war within tech—between those who want to regulate and those who want to disrupt at all costs.

The Counterweight: Voices of Caution and Context To balance the signal, I’ve also sought out voices that challenge the narrative that innovation alone will save us—and that billionaires are benevolent prophets. These thinkers ask who gets excluded, erased, or exploited in the name of progress.

1. Tech Won’t Save Us – Paris Marx

A direct and deeply researched critique of Silicon Valley ideology, highlighting labor issues, environmental costs, and structural inequality.

2. Your Undivided Attention – Tristan Harris & Center for Humane Tech

Focused on the attention economy and tech’s unintended consequences on democracy and mental health.

3. Offline with Jon Favreau

Explores the way online discourse is warping our politics and our ability to connect across difference.

4. Ezra Klein Show

The New York Times Long-form interviews with thinkers who break down the intersections between tech, policy, history, and society with humility and complexity.

5. The Dig

From Jacobin Magazine Rooted in leftist critique, this podcast analyzes capitalism, labor, and ideology with an eye toward structural transformation.

6. Anand Giridharadas

Journalist & Author Through his books (Winners Take All) and newsletter (The Ink), Anand deconstructs how elites maintain power while cloaking themselves in language of justice and innovation.

These thinkers don’t reject technology—but they refuse to let it become religion.

So What Now?

I don’t want anyone to feel disillusioned and alone. I want people to feel empowered and connected. But that doesn’t mean outsourcing our politics to billionaires who live in bunkers and tweet from yachts. It means grounding ourselves in community, in history, in tangible solutions—not just manifestos. We need new stories. We need stories of real builders—childcare providers, teachers, immigrants, gig workers, family farmers, exhausted parents, aging programmers. People who don’t get the mic but keep the world running.

And we need to recognize when feeling marginalized becomes a gateway to resentment instead of solidarity. Just because someone feels invisible doesn’t mean they are oppressed. But it does mean they need to be heard—honestly, critically, and with care. That’s the work. In my marriage, in my business, in my politics. Not to cancel each other—but to keep asking: Who does this story really serve? And: What are we building—and for whom?

Stay curious out there.

-AP