Standing before a large US flag, which spanned the breadth of a vast stage, the world’s richest man told an assembled crowd that he loved them.
“This kind of energy lights a fire in my soul,” he said, having just made one of the crowd a millionaire after everyone chanted his name.
His love – and that $1m – of course, was contingent on them all doing exactly as Elon Musk wanted: signing a petition tied to his political action committee (Pac) , which is dedicated to sending Donald Trump back to the White House.
The spectacle was both surreal and potentially illegal. But no one here, not least Musk himself, seemed to care in the slightest.
The billionaire was in Pittsburgh on his final stop across the vital swing state of Pennsylvania, having donated $75m to help get Trump re-elected, and seemingly willing to accept a job offer in Trump’s government should he win.
Musk’s latest ploy to assist Trump to attain more political power, has been to give away $1m every day to a member of the public, provided they also live in a swing state and are registered to vote.
The stunt is prohibited and akin to buying votes, in the view of some experts, as it violates federal election law preventing payments for registering to vote. The state’s Democratic governor, Josh Shapiro, on Sunday described it as “deeply concerning” and encouraged law enforcement to “take a look at”. Musk’s America Pac did not respond to a list of questions from the Guardian after the Pittsburgh town hall.
Sunday’s winner was a woman named Kristine Fishell, who walked down from the theater’s balcony wearing a red Trump T-shirt as Musk waited awkwardly on stage. She thanked him, not only for the money, but also for the “wealth and responsibility, you are using to save [free] speech”. She did not return to her seat after accepting the giant check, and organizers did not make her available for an interview. Hours later a video of Fishell was posted on Musk’s X platform, where she espoused the virtues of signing his petition to an overlay of soft piano music.
Many of the attendees at the Roxian theatre said they had signed up to attend the event before he announced the $1m giveaway.
Most said they were not concerned by the idea of the world’s richest man taking on a job in Trump’s administration, despite the myriad conflicts of interest that would pose. (Musk’s businesses hold several multi-billion dollar contracts with the US government and Trump has suggested making him a “secretary of cost-cutting” a murky new position within the executive branch.)
“I don’t think it’s a conflict of interest,” said one woman who did not give her name. “I think he is fighting for many Americans who feel their rights are being taken away, especially free speech.”
Evan Huber was unfazed by the argument that Musk’s entry into government would mark the establishment of a new era of American oligarchy.
“At that point all you can get is power,” he said, shrugging. “You already have all the money.”
Lauren Stephenson, 40, who described herself as a political independent, arrived at the venue at 8.30am, so set was she to secure a seat.
“We need more entrepreneurs,” she said when asked what Elon Musk had ever done for her personally. “I don’t understand why we condemn success. We used to celebrate success.”
after newsletter promotion
Stephenson, who was sad not to have won the $1m but said she was planning to buy her first Tesla nonetheless, was frustrated she had been unable to ask a question during the rest of the town hall, which lasted around two hours.
Throughout the event, Musk reiterated a litany of falsehoods tied to Trump’s campaign. He argued that the “constitution is literally under attack”, spread false claims about voting machines and said that a Trump loss in November could ultimately end American democracy. “I fear if Trump does not win, we are going to have a single-party state that is going to be like California, but actually worse,” he said.
Many in the audience asked questions about Musk’s businesses; his views on the future of AI; even if they should be starting their own families. One asked if he would consider running for president himself in 2028. He could not, he explained, due to the natural born citizen clause of the US constitution, and he did not want the job either.
“I hate politics,” he said. “I just like building stuff. And making products that people love.”
At one point, when he was asked a question about the future of nuclear power and began extolling the virtues of the sun, an attendee shouted: “Yes! Go the sun!” Later on a man began attempting to get the crowd to spontaneously sing the national anthem but no one joined in. Another attendee was removed by security after trying to shout a question out of line.
But others asked more conspiracy themed questions, including whether Musk would consider financing the viewing of documentaries about child sex trafficking at the US border, or if he would consider creating a Hollywood studio to finance conservative film projects. He offered no firm commitments for any investment opportunities.
Some began to trickle out before the event had finished, and Musk wrapped up with empty seats visible throughout the auditorium. He exited the venue behind a privacy curtain, in a blacked out SUV as the sun began to set over the Ohio river.
The motorcade did not stop as the Guardian asked from the roadside: “Why will you not take questions from journalists, too?”
