You’d think two of the most influential figures in modern business would sing from the same hymn sheet. They don’t. Not even close.
How Musk’s View of Buffett Evolved Over Time
Back in 2015, Musk was almost courteous when asked about Buffett. He called him “a great investor,” acknowledged his track record, and admitted Berkshire Hathaway’s model worked—just not for him. That changed. As Tesla faced short-sellers, as regulators circled, as the media questioned his every tweet, Musk grew less patient with those he saw as armchair strategists. Buffett, in his neatly pressed suit, became a symbol. Not of wisdom, but of detachment.
By 2020, during a chaotic Tesla earnings call, Musk snapped when asked about value investing. “Warren Buffett buys businesses that are already successful,” he said, voice tight. “I have to create them. And then defend them. There’s a difference.” That changes everything. It wasn’t just a jab—it was a manifesto. One builds empires from nothing. The other buys them after they’re already on the map.
And yet, Musk never outright denies Buffett’s skill. He’s too smart for that. What he challenges is the relevance of that skill in an age of acceleration. “Buffett made his money in a world where change was slow,” Musk told an audience in Berlin, eyes scanning the crowd like he was daring someone to disagree. “Insurance, railroads, soda. Nothing he owns would survive a decade of real disruption.”
He isn’t wrong. Berkshire’s top holdings—Apple, Bank of America, Coca-Cola—thrive on stability, not upheaval. But that’s the point Buffett makes in return: why race into the fire when you can own the fire department?
The Core of Their Philosophical Divide
The real tension isn’t ego. It’s worldview. Buffett operates on predictability. He seeks businesses with moats—brand loyalty, regulatory protection, economies of scale. Musk? He’s allergic to moats. He wants to rip them apart. Hyperloop versus railroads. SpaceX versus ULA. Neuralink versus, well, biology itself.
Buffett once said, “Never invest in a business you can’t understand.” Musk’s entire career is a middle finger to that rule. How many people “understood” electric cars in 2008? Or private rockets? Or brain-computer interfaces? And yet, here we are. That said, Buffett’s rule protected him from dot-com busts and crypto crashes. Musk’s approach? He burned through $700 million of his own PayPal cash just to keep Tesla and SpaceX alive in 2008. Not exactly a model for the risk-averse.
Buffett’s One Big Win That Musk Can’t Ignore
Apple. That’s the thorn in Musk’s side. Buffett’s Berkshire owns over 900 million Apple shares—bought around $50 a share (adjusted). Today, Apple trades near $200. That position is worth over $170 billion. Let that sink in. One stock. One “boring” tech company Buffett didn’t build, didn’t run, didn’t even invent. He just bought it—and waited.
Musk calls Apple a “hardware-software ecosystem play,” which is corporate-speak for “they make nice phones.” But he knows Apple’s margins—around 43% on iPhones—are the kind of machine he’d kill to replicate at Tesla, where margins hover near 18% and drop whenever a new factory comes online. Buffett didn’t need to fix supply chains in Shanghai. He didn’t need to argue with German unions. He wrote a check. And waited.
Is that genius? Or luck dressed up as patience? Depends who you ask. I find this overrated—the idea that picking Apple was some masterstroke. Tim Cook turned Apple into a profit monster after Jobs died. Buffett rode that wave. Musk, meanwhile, is trying to become the wave. Which is harder? Building the surfer or building the ocean?
Why Timing Defines Their Legacies
Buffett built wealth in a 40-year stretch where inflation was tamed, interest rates fell, and American consumer habits stayed mostly stable. Musk? He’s operating in the age of chaos: pandemics, supply chain collapses, AI panic, climate deadlines. The rules aren’t just changing—they’re being rewritten mid-sentence.
Buffett famously avoids tech because “it’s hard to value.” Musk lives in that uncertainty. He’ll bet $100 billion on a Mars colony because, in his mind, the alternative—doing nothing—is riskier. Buffett would call that reckless. Musk calls it necessary. And honestly, it is unclear which mindset will age better. We’re far from knowing whether Mars is viable. But we do know Buffett won’t be on the first flight.
Musk vs Buffett: Investment Style Compared
Let’s break it down. Not in some sterile table (you can find those everywhere), but in how they actually move money.
Buffett: The Compounding Machine
Berkshire’s strategy is simple: buy wonderful businesses at fair prices. Hold forever. Reinvest dividends and earnings into more wonderful businesses. Rinse. Repeat. Since 1965, Berkshire has returned 20% annually—tripling the S&P 500. That’s not luck. That’s discipline. He avoided Amazon for years, then bought $1 billion worth in 2019—after it was already dominant. He didn’t need to be early. He just needed to be right—eventually.
Musk: The All-In Gambler
Musk doesn’t diversify. He concentrates. He took every dollar from PayPal and dumped it into Tesla and SpaceX. He mortgaged his houses to pay salaries. In 2018, he sold $400 million in Tesla stock just to fund SpaceX’s Starship program. That’s not investing. That’s betting the farm. And then plowing the ashes into a new field.
Would Buffett do that? Never. His famous “20-slot punch card” rule says if you could only make 20 investment decisions in life, you’d think harder about each. Musk? He’s made over 10 major bets—Tesla, SpaceX, SolarCity, Neuralink, The Boring Company, Twitter, xAI—and keeps swinging.
Did Buffett Ever Respond to Musk’s Criticism?
Quietly. Oh so quietly. Buffett doesn’t fight online. He doesn’t need to. But in a 2021 CNBC interview, when asked about Musk’s comments, he smiled—like a grandfather humoring a loud grandson—and said, “Elon’s doing things I could never do. Building cars, rockets, tunnels. I can’t even change my own oil.”
Pause there. That’s not just humility. It’s deflection. By framing Musk’s work as mechanical labor, he sidesteps the innovation argument entirely. “You’re impressive,” he’s saying, “but I’m still richer per hour worked.” And he’s not wrong. Buffett’s net worth crossed $100 billion with minimal visible effort. Musk? He’s worth more now—but has aged 10 years in the last 5.
The One Area Buffett Admits He Was Wrong
Amazon. Buffett admits he underestimated Bezos. “I was asleep at the switch,” he said in 2018. “I understood retail, but I didn’t see how software would eat everything.” That’s significant. It’s rare for him to concede a blind spot. Musk, of course, seized on this. “Even Buffett can’t predict the future,” he tweeted. “So why pretend you can?”
Frequently Asked Questions
Has Elon Musk ever met Warren Buffett?
Yes. They’ve shared stages at charity events and investor conferences. In 2014, Musk attended a dinner hosted by Buffett in Omaha. No fireworks. No debate. Just two men from different planets nodding politely. Photos show Musk looking slightly uncomfortable, like a mechanic at a board meeting.
Does Buffett own Tesla stock?
No. Berkshire Hathaway has never bought a single share. In 2020, Buffett’s right-hand man, Charlie Munger, called Tesla “a whole bunch of hype.” Musk responded by tweeting a laughing-crying emoji. That was the entire exchange. Billion-dollar shade.
Who has performed better as an investor?
Depends on the timeframe. From 2005–2015, Buffett crushed it. From 2015–2023, Musk’s companies grew faster. Tesla alone returned over 3,000% in that period. But Buffett’s portfolio is far less volatile. If you hate sleepless nights, Buffett wins. If you want 10x or bust, Musk’s your guy.
The Bottom Line
Musk sees Buffett as a relic—not because he’s old, but because his playbook assumes stability. In a world of AI, climate collapse, and space colonization, stability is the one thing we can’t count on. That changes everything. Musk isn’t just building companies. He’s building shock absorbers for the future.
But let’s be clear about this: Buffett didn’t get rich by being flashy. He got rich by being boring. By saying no. By waiting. Musk’s genius is motion. Buffett’s is stillness. Both work—until they don’t.
I am convinced that in 30 years, historians won’t rank one above the other. They’ll see them as mirror images—one who mastered the world as it was, the other who refused to accept it. And that’s exactly where the real lesson lies. You don’t have to choose sides. You just have to know which game you’re playing.
Because if you’re betting on rockets, don’t act like you’re managing an insurance float. And if you’re collecting dividends from railroad stocks, don’t mock the guy trying to terraform Mars. Different worlds. Different rules.
(Not that either of them would care what you think anyway.)