It’s a mistake, then, to think of Uber’s carcinized business strategy as driven by its scandal-prone leader, Travis Kalanick, and his bad personality. When author Brad Stone asked Kalanick why the company raised over $10 billion in the previous two years alone, the billionaire’s answer comes off as more resigned than pumped: “If you didn’t do it, it would be a strategic disadvantage, especially when you’re operating globally,” he told Stone. “It’s not my preference for how to build a company, but it’s required when that money is available.”14 That last part is worth repeating: It’s required when that money is available. If Uber didn’t take $3.5 billion from Mohammed bin Salman and the Saudi kingdom’s sovereign wealth fund, the royals would have put it on Lyft, and then maybe no one would want to invest in Uber, and then it would all be over. These companies didn’t choose to become crabs—that’s not how evolution works. The founders couldn’t stop themselves any more than the railroad barons could.

The result was rapid-onset inequality, as capitalists drove up rents and hollowed out relatively high-wage and formerly influential sectors of service employment, such as hospitality and transportation. California’s unsheltered homeless population increased by 57 percent between 2010 and 2020.24 Complaining about its attic portrait once again, the tech industry has grown frustrated with its intractably displaced neighbors.25 The number of property thefts from cars exploded, contrasting with declining crime rates throughout the country and state and triggering Dirty Harry complexes among the techie elite.26 Some took the well-trod civic vigilante route and funded 2016’s Proposition Q, which empowered police to dismantle homeless tents and camps. The Sequoia Capital chairman, Michael Moritz, and archangel investor Ron Conway—very thick pillars in the community—each contributed just under $50,000, pushing the measure to passage by a narrow majority.27