Elon Musk took the stand in a federal courtroom in Oakland this week and accused the lawyer for OpenAI of trying to trick him with deliberately convoluted questions, setting the tone for a second day of testimony that veered between combative and confessional. The world’s richest man, dressed in a dark suit and tie, told the jury that he felt “a fool” for having poured money into an enterprise he believed was a philanthropic research lab, only to watch it transform into a profit-driven behemoth under the stewardship of his former friend Sam Altman. At the heart of the case is Musk’s claim that OpenAI’s shift from a nonprofit foundation to a capped-profit model—and later a multibillion-dollar partnership with Microsoft—amounted to a bait-and-switch that betrayed the founding charter. Altman’s defence, by contrast, portrays Musk as a jealous rival whose own AI venture, xAI, has failed to keep pace with ChatGPT’s success, and who walked away from OpenAI in 2018 when he could not secure majority control.

The origins of the dispute lie in a shared anxiety about the dangers of artificial intelligence. In 2015, Musk warned President Barack Obama during a private meeting that AI posed an existential threat, and he co-founded OpenAI as a counterbalance to Google’s dominance. Emails shown in court reveal that Musk even proposed naming the venture “Freemind” as a philosophical jab at Google’s DeepMind, though Altman favoured “Axon” or something related to Alan Turing. Yet the idealism soured when OpenAI, needing capital to compete, accepted a $10bn investment from Microsoft in 2023, granting the tech giant exclusive licensing rights. “What the hell is going on?” Musk texted Altman at the time, and he now insists that the arrangement allowed Microsoft to gain de facto control over artificial general intelligence—a capability that could surpass human intellect. Viewing the trial from Washington, legal analysts note that Musk’s case hinges on proving a contractual obligation to remain nonprofit, a burden made harder by his own earlier endorsement of a for-profit arm to raise funds.

Across the Atlantic, observers in London remark that the trial is laying bare the ideological contradictions at the core of Silicon Valley’s self-image. OpenAI was meant to be a kind of Manhattan Project for AI—a public good insulated from market pressures. Instead, it has become the epicentre of a feud between two billionaires who once shared a vision but now accuse each other of greed and betrayal. Russian-language coverage from Moscow draws parallels to a classic corporate schism, while Indian media focus on Musk’s claim that he warned global leaders years ago about the risks that have now landed in court. The jury must decide whether Altman and his co-defendant Greg Brockman looted a charity or simply adapted to the financial realities of cutting-edge research. Whichever way the verdict tilts, the case has already exposed the fragility of the notion that AI development can be both safe and profitable—a dilemma that will outlast the closing arguments. Forward-looking analysts suggest that even if Musk loses, the trial may accelerate regulatory pressure on OpenAI and force a broader reckoning over who gets to control the most transformative technology of the century.