The recent breakup, breakdown, and reconciliation of President Donald Trump and Elon Musk is on full global display. It’s the kind of relationship chaos many hope to never experience. But if you know, you know.
Here is the short version: two work partners got into a disagreement and said hurtful things. The one with his name on the lease kicked the partner out on the streets. In fits of rage, each turned to social media and proceeded to drag each other through the mud by sharing either dark secrets or disparaging accusations. Then they apparently make up: Musk apologizes and Trump accepts.
While opinions about this “bromance” were trending, this is a case study anyone can observe in real time about how economic security affects relationships and what domestic violence prevention and communal healing look like.
In this case, economic security was highlighted as a threat of perceived scarcity through a threat to remove “billions and billions of dollars in governmental contracts” by Trump from Musk.
In a more commonly relatable relationship, economic security is the ability of individuals, families, or communities to meet their basic and essential needs consistently and sustainably. It encompasses a feeling of stability and safety regarding finances, including the ability to afford essentials like food, shelter, and healthcare, as well as the capacity to plan for the future and manage debt.
Economic security or the fear of losing that—particularly for families—is one of many contributing factors to why people stay in unhealthy and abusive relationships. In the United States, far too many children are maltreated or exposed to domestic violence. Researchers estimate that between 3.3 million and 10 million children are exposed to adult domestic violence annually.
This is important because nearly half of all women and many men experience domestic violence. It is critical to discuss domestic violence like the public health problem it is. Equally important to note is the ridiculous stigma that surrounds domestic violence as if it is not a public health and economic issue that affects someone every person knows—whether they are aware of it or not.
According to the U.S. Department of Justice, domestic violence is a pattern of abusive behavior in any relationship that is used by one partner to gain or maintain power and control. This includes but is not limited to physical, sexual, emotional, economic, psychological, or technological actions or threats of action.
With this breadth of a definition, there are various ways to personally experience this kind of abuse.
In the Trump-Musk case, there was economic abuse, threats of action, and social media harassment. There was also a black eye displayed by Musk, who blamed it on his child. Again, this is common in domestic violence cases.
In the worst cases of domestic violence, there is psychological and physical violence (although it is greatly underreported). Research shows that financial abuse is present in 99 percent of domestic violence cases, according to the National Network to End Domestic Violence. If economic security affected billionaires, imagine the struggle between couples who rely on one another to split rent or support children.
In California, domestic violence is estimated to cost $73.7 billion dollars for survivors, communities, and taxpayers.
As a survivor and advocate, my call to action is beyond moral support, it's also to encourage courageous conversations in an intentional effort to de-stigmatize the topic and recognize the role everyone can play. There are no innocent bystanders, only silent witnesses.
As a society, there is a desensitization to violence with constant access to uncensored media. However, it is wrong to let that prevalence turn into acceptance. When it comes to domestic violence and economic security, the true cost is immeasurable—the shattered lives, the emotional scars, and the cycle of violence that perpetuates through generations.
Instead of making jokes or memes about the latest high-profile epic feud—it is critical to use this opportunity to seek alternatives. If you or someone you know is in an unhealthy or abusive relationship, it is important to simply check in on them or be there when they request support.
On a bigger scale, there is work being done to prioritize financial security as a means to end intimate partner violence. Sharing resources such as safety plans can be both tangible and support additional conversation.
For violence intervention, agencies and funding do this work but one of the easiest lifts regarding prevention is education and informative dialogue.
I didn’t leave until my situation became extremely violent because I was raised by my grandparents and didn’t know what a healthy intimate relationship was supposed to look like. I had a child before I had that knowledge. Now, as an adult, I am responsible for having these conversations with my son about healthy relationships to end the cycle of abuse.
The world is waiting to see if the Trump-Musk relationship does hold, or if they split up again. In the meantime, everyone can learn from their experience and put a wedge in the cycle of violence.
Monica EO'Mailani Flores is a survivor, and supporter of community well-being and a Public Voices Fellow of The OpEd Project on Domestic Violence and Economic Security.




















A golden tray sits on the Resolute Desk as President Donald Trump speaks during an announcement on American nuclear innovation in the Oval Office at the White House on July 24, 2026, in Washington, D.C. Trump is signing multiple executive orders targeting the nuclear energy sector and easing rules for new reactors and nuclear fuel supply chains.
Trump’s hubris rivals the fallen heroes of ancient Greek mythology
In January, the New York Times asked President Donald Trump if there were any limits on his global powers.
“Yeah,” the president responded, “there is one thing. My own morality. My own mind. It’s the only thing that can stop me.”
That was eight months ago, but fortunately Christopher Nolan’s blockbuster adaptation of “The Odyssey” has made ancient Greek literature newly relevant. Before that window closes, I’d like to talk about hubris.
Today, the term mostly means excessive pride or arrogance. That’s part of what the Greeks meant by it too, but the meaning was a bit richer and more specific. Hubris was an insolent or outrageous act that offended the gods, often because the transgressor was claiming abilities or authorities that solely belonged to supreme beings.
Nolan renamed and slightly modified the concept of xenia for the film, calling it “Zeus’ law.” In the director’s telling, mortals should follow the rules laid out by the gods, specifically the requirement to treat strangers with respect lest they be gods in disguise.
In a sense, hubris is the opposite, or at least the rejection, of xenia. The hubris of the suitors, and at times Odysseus himself, invites punishment by the gods and their mortal instruments.
Which brings me back to Donald Trump. His claim that there are no constraints on his personal power to dictate events on the global stage was one of the greatest expressions of hubris ever uttered by a political leader.
Trump’s claim was obviously false when he made it.
He vowed that he could end the Russia-Ukraine war in 24 hours. He’s proved powerless to make that happen. If he had divine powers to work his will, why would he have balked at implementing his tariffs so often that Wall Street adopted the “TACO trade” term for his deals? “TACO” stands for “Trump always chickens out.”
And why would Trump have made so many embarrassing concessions to China — from rescinding tariffs on Chinese goods to allowing them to buy crucial and incredibly valuable computer chips?
But Trump saw his success at capturing Venezuelan strongman Nicolas Maduro as proof of his ability to launch missiles to the same effect as Zeus’ lightning bolts. Trump believed he was the most powerful man who ever lived.
This is no exaggeration. In March, when the Iran invasion seemed successful, Trump gave a document penned by“Presidential Historian David King” to New York Times reporters Maggie Haberman and Jonathan Swan purporting to prove that Trump was “the most powerful person to have EVER walked this planet.” King was, in fact, a businessman and occasional caddy for legendary golfer Gary Player.
King compared Trump favorably to many of history’s most powerful, and often heinous, figures: Alexander the Great, Attila the Hun, William the Conqueror, Napoleon Bonaparte, Joseph Stalin, Genghis Khan, Mao Tse Tung, Adolf Hitler and Vladimir Lenin. Many of these men thought they were the most powerful person in the world, too. And many were defeated precisely because they believed it.
At least Napoleon and Hitler had a string of truly impressive victories before they learned the folly of hubris. The limits on Trump’s power have been exposed by far less august forces than the combined might of the allies in World War II or the fearsome Russian winter.
Iran is a comparatively middling power. But the regime’s ability to absorb punishment while imposing its will on the Strait of Hormuz has proved to be a greater constraint on Trump’s power than his morality or mind. We should note that, at least rhetorically, his morality has not proved much of a constraint. He has repeatedly promised to destroy Iranian “civilization” if the regime refuses to capitulate.
But they haven’t — and won’t anytime soon — because the regime’s tolerance for pain far outstrips Trump’s. The combined fear of skyrocketing oil prices, outrage of Gulf state potentates, diminishing weapon supplies and domestic unpopularity is doing the work that international law, congressional oversight and the collective opinion of foreign policy experts can’t or won’t do.
If I considered Trump more heroic than reason and facts could allow, I would say his Sisyphean predicament has the whiff of Greek tragedy to it. Trump is vexed by the fact that the Iranians won’t honor deals or ratify his countless premature claims of victory — giving new meaning to his vow that his presidency would make people tired of winning. It’s almost like they’re out-Trumping Trump.
Things might have gone better if he’d heeded that great Greek tragedian Sophocles: “For Zeus utterly abhors the boasts of a proud tongue.”
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Jonah Goldberg is editor-in-chief of The Dispatch and the host of The Remnant podcast. His Twitter handle is @JonahDispatch.