Seducing Jeff Bezos

It appeared to be innocuous, two women riding the boozy wave of Sunday brunch, spit balling ideas to save the world as if it were a school project rather than an existential crisis. One of them apparently thought it would be a good idea to record it.

The woman with raven hair said, “it’s not actually that difficult of a problem to solve. Scientists have already identified vast areas of land on three or four continents that, if forested, would provide enough new growth carbon capture to massively slow down climate change. Second, if we really targeted our investments towards electric planes in combination of course with electric trucks and cars, and we spent whatever money was necessary to incentivize the shift, big oil would have to adapt or die, and let’s be honest we’re fine with either.”

A server popped in screen and refilled the speaker’s coffee, ducking out quickly when he realized he was on camera.

The woman continued, “finally - the elephant in the room nobody wants to talk about: animal agriculture! There’s no way out of this catastrophe without ending factory farming and the data is unequivocal on this, but for most people, even amongst those that call themselves environmentalists, hamburgers are where their commitment to the environment ends.” She laughed, rolling her eyes.

“Spicy, Sam,” barked the videographer. “But not wrong.”

Sam continued, “but now we have a solution which doesn’t even require people to make that apparently untenable sacrifice - lab grown meat! It’s cheaper, it’s healthier, it tastes the same, it has a tiny carbon footprint in comparison, and no animals were harmed in making it. With an influx of, oh I don’t know, a billion dollars or so in the sector, factory farms would be out of business before Gen Z can even burn them down.”

Laughter erupted from behind the camera, amplified by alcohol. “Ok but those things sound hard. Do you know how many power brokers, richies, and politicians you’d have to get on board? No one has been successful building a coalition that large.”

Sam smiled and tossed a green-eyed glance left and right conspiratorially, “what if we don’t need a coalition? Instead of working against this patriarchal capitalism,” she paused, “what if we exploit it?”

“Well now I’m intrigued.”

“We’ve allowed capitalism to concentrate all real wealth in a small handful of men. They practically did it for us,” she drawled with a devious grin.

The woman holding the camera turned it around to capture her own expression of skepticism before turning it back around on Sam.

Sam chuckled. “With their ungodly amounts of wealth, all we need is one. That’s the beauty of it! And they’re mostly men with an Achilles heel for beautiful women and no real self-awareness. These are men surrounded by yes-men, insulated in a world where they believe they are universally respected, who can’t even see that the respect of those nearest to them are mere performances of people who want their money. They’ve conflated being good at capitalism with being strong but they are not strong; they are too hungry to be truly strong. No content man let’s his workers starve while hoarding more wealth than anyone could spend in 1000 lifetimes. Billionaires are famished for purpose. It’s almost too easy.”

“Who, then?”

“Jeff Bezos. He has more than enough to do everything I’ve described. And he’s still a robot, unaware of what’s really motivating him. Like, the guy already won capitalism so many times over that he had to start a rocket ship race just to feel alive. He is a man searching for something more, but he’s only looking in the places he’s already been; it’s like a marathon winner continuing to run after the race has ended because he’s doesn’t feel satisfied yet. My guy Bezos just needs someone to show him where happiness really is.”

“Um ok and who could show him?”

“Someone would probably have to play the long seduction game, staying just out of his reach. He has to want her more than anything, a craving that drives him to toss around words like soulmate, unable to recognize that strength of his craving for her is really just a reflection of his perception of how hard she is to get. We’re taught that worth is determined by how expensive something is, how difficult it is to acquire. So we use that shitty programming, make her appear to be the ultimate evasive unicorn, and voila the wanting becomes visceral, it owns him. Then she tells him that she couldn’t love someone who has the power to save humanity but doesn’t do it.”

The videographer sighs audibly.

Sam finishes, “the future of humanity may in fact rest on the willingness of one woman to use her conformity to our extremely narrow beauty standards to mother a grown man into loving himself.” She winked, took a sip of coffee and offered a playful smile.

That’s where the video ended. It was posted on YouTube, with abbreviated sequenced versions shared and duetted on TikTok. The hashtag #seducingjeffbezos trended for a few days on Twitter. Buzzfeed covered it.

It never reached Bones status. It was shared by only B-list celebs and a handful of the TikTok famous. It was too controversial for the likes of Greta Thurnburg and other serious activists.

But people loved the idea of exploiting capitalism; they salivated at the idea of taking advantage of the worst parts of our system to bring about the change that the system was designed to prevent. Creators cited the book “The Obstacle is the Way,” which resulted in a brief spike in sales.

The traction eventually waned, with too many people pointing out how unethical it was to intentionally manipulate someone, even that someone. They weren’t wrong.

In the end, it was a flash in the pan.

But.

It became just viral enough to permeate the carefully curated space of Jeff Bezos’ awareness. His assistant showed it to him, knowing that it was popular enough that he could be blindsided by it in an interview. She needed him to start chewing on a response to a question that would inevitably be asked.

When he saw it, his attention was so focused on appearing to be unbothered, he was so committed to the performance of being above the needling of haters, that the message slipped past his defenses and planted itself somewhere fertile in his mind.

A few weeks later his girlfriend texted to say she had a special surprise for him and that he should come home early. He was intrigued and excited, but those feelings were quickly followed by the shadow of suspicion. This was slightly out of character for her and he wondered – just briefly – if there was an ulterior motive. He arrived home to find his favorite cake decorated by someone who probably went to art school.

“What’s this for?” He asked.

“Just for you. I wanted to do something nice.”

His eyes narrowed slightly, almost imperceptibly, but he pasted on a smile, took a bite, and nibbled through the tension.

A month later Bezos went on a business trip to Hong Kong. After the meetings had wrapped, he found himself at a VIP party oozing with young, beautiful women. This was nothing new, of course. Many men in his circles exchanged their money for the pretense that they were desired, while the cynical ones knew better but still convinced themselves it was an extension of their power. Bezos saw it with fresh eyes, and wondered why he had never noticed it before.

Every smile tossed his way evoked distrust; he searched their expressions, wondering what tells an activist seducer might have. He was tempted to bring up climate change just to see if he could provoke an emotional response.

At his next party, back stateside, he tried it. Every woman who deigned to speak to him was interrogated about her political beliefs. Halfway through the evening, his assistant lightly touched his arm and nodded toward the door. He followed her into another room where they could speak freely.

“There’s some buzz that you’re talking politics, that you’re insisting people not change the subject. Is something wrong? Is this about that video?”

“Don’t be silly.” He forced a laugh, a touch too loud. “It just came up.”

His assistant had long prior learned how to handle him. She just stared, inviting elaboration.

“I mean, these are interesting subjects. I think, I dunno, like why are they taboo?”

She waited again, letting him direct the conversation.

He continued, “are they right? I mean I know they’re not totally right but do they have a point? Could we do more? I just think it’s really unfair of them to reduce me to this insecure space cowboy unwilling to share his toys. That’s too far.”

“You’ve never listened to the haters before. You always said that you weren’t successful until you had haters.”

“Am I an ass? I did say that. I believed it. I still do. But also that’s a convenient way to ignore anyone who disagrees with me, you know?”

Her eyes went wide, as if she were witnessing something startling. She finally spoke, slowly: “yeah, I think those are all great questions to ask.”

“Don’t placate me!” He bit back at her.

She stood frozen.

“I’m sorry, I just, do you agree with them?”

“Who is them?” She asked. “And about what?”

“Do you think I’m hoarding wealth and that I’m not self-aware and that I’m the worst thing to happen to humanity and all that other bullshit?”

“Of course not. I wouldn’t work for you if I did.”

“Or maybe you’re trying to manipulate me into being a better person.”

“If that’s what you think you should fire me because I wouldn’t be doing my job.”

“That’s not a denial.”

She sighed. “Let’s continue this conversation in the light of day, ok?” Her eyes were pleading, with a touch of fear.

“I’m really sorry,” he said, lowering his head, shaking it gently. “I think they got to me.” He took a deep breath. “I want to meet her. Set it up.”

“I’m sorry, who?” She asked.

“Sam, from the video. Fly her here. Have her over for dinner.”

“I don’t think that’s the best idea, optically” she said, before he cut her off.

“This is more important than optics. I’ll risk it.”

Sam walked into a situation designed to intimidate her. Her trip was filtered through seven people, each a buffer that communicated Bezos’s importance: a travel agent, a concierge who inquired about her dietary needs, a chauffer, a butler, her own personal butler for her stay, a chef, and finally Bezos’ personal assistant.

She was paraded through his grandiose home, saturated in opulence and all the trimmings of wealth for wealth’s sake. She was instructed to wait in a foyer, and it was no accident that the walls were adorned with framed articles extolling Bezos’ charitable giving.

It was made known to her that her meal was prepared by a 5-star executive chef, and it was vegan of course. When she was finally seated at the table, she was forced to wait another 7 minutes before Bezos made an appearance.

“I hope you weren’t waiting long,” he said, lying. His plastic smile formed too quickly and showed too many teeth to be natural.

Sam smiled back, but allowed her sincerity to be seen.

“I’m glad you could make it,” he said, unable to dispense with the formality of meeting a stranger this way.

But Sam was not uncomfortable, and she felt no need to act formal. She had nothing to lose.

“Well, this has all been quite the adventure for me,” she said. “It’s not every day that a billionaire you roasted invites you to dinner.”

He laughed uncomfortably, silently seething that she was somehow more collected than him.

She started, “I must have struck a chord. So we don’t have to pretend that I didn’t; we don’t have to dance around whatever it was you wanted to discuss. Feel free to be direct,” she said. “I’m genuinely more curious than I’ve ever been in my life.” She laughed lightly, sans bitterness.

Bezos took a deep breath. “Your video got into my head. You made me doubt the loyalty of everyone around me, especially the women. It wasn’t very kind.”

“Yeah, that’s fair. I can imagine how it might have rattled you.”

“Well, I’m sure you meant no harm. You were just riffing with a girlfriend, having some fun. I’m sure you never thought I’d see it,” he said, offering exoneration.

Sam paused. She pushed her plate forward, preparing for the possibility that she would be thrown out. She took a deep breath. “Actually, I did want you to see it. I didn’t actually want anyone to seduce you, that bit was just to garner enough views to land in your orbit. But make no mistake, I wanted your attention.”

He stared, dumbfounded by her audacity.

“Look,” she followed, “if it made you look at your life and consider that some people use you for your money . . . if that idea had somehow escaped your attention, then I gave you a gift.”

“No, I’m aware of that. Anyone with money becomes accustomed to people trying to use you. But when they’re acting on their own behalf, it’s transparent. If the things they try to persuade you to do line up with the very things that benefit them, it’s easy to dismiss them, to know not to trust their counsel. But what you advocated – using me for the greater good – well that’s a lot harder to suss out.”

“I can see that. And I want to be sorry. I fancy myself the kind of person who doesn’t use the ends to justify the means. And yet, given the state of the world, I honestly feel content sacrificing my own integrity if it saves humanity.”

“That’s so hyperbolic, though. Save humanity! Please. That’s not my responsibility.”

“But it is your opportunity! You have the power to literally preserve human life on this planet, build a legacy like no other for the history books, find the meaning and purpose that has eluded you so far, and be loved for who you are rather than what you have! And you’d still have billions leftover.”

“It’s not that simple.”

“It’s the only thing that is simple. Hoarding money is incapable of giving you any more meaning than it already has; and given the way you treat the people who work for you – nickle and diming the shit out of hard workers – I can tell you still don’t believe you have enough. If you’re taking from them, you’re controlled by feelings of lack.”

He stared blankly, processing. Thirty seconds ticked by.

“But if I do it, if I fund everything you want, you’re not going to get the credit for it. I’ll make sure of that.”

“Oh honey, I don’t deal in credit. Credit is a useless currency. History is filled with wealthy men taking credit for the ideas of women. You see, we know that credit is a moving target, manipulated for the benefit of those in power, rewritten with history, mistranslated as the stories are passed down. I don’t give a fuck about credit. It’s as transient as the wind.”

“I won’t give you money either. Or a job. So whatever illusion you have about running this world-saving foundation is a pipe dream.”

Sam didn’t hesitate. “Jeff, I don’t want anything.”

“Then why do all of this? If you have nothing to gain.”

“Because I actually care more about the future of the people and animals on this planet than I do about my personal circumstances.”

“I don’t believe you. No one is that selfless.”

“Until you believe me, until you can conceive of a world where people care about one another without motive, you will never be happy. Because the world you inhabit houses nothing but the dark side of human nature. Come over here. It’s so much more lovely.”

“How can you say that? You’ve villainized me. Your people would hardly welcome me.”

She smiled broadly and warmly. “Oh, there’s nothing this country loves more than a good redemption story.”

“Bullshit. No one would give me redemption; mocking me is a favorite past time.”

Sam responded, “you forget that we all started out where you are, looking out for number one, trying to squirrel away enough – whatever that ‘enough’ amount was in our minds. We’ve all distrusted people to the degree of craving the safety of money. If anyone is honest with themselves, they understand you. Give your fortune away – like most of it – and I promise they’ll come around.”

“What if you’re wrong?”

“Well, the life you’re living isn’t worth much anyway, am I right? Distrusting people, being disliked by most people, trying to earn more money than anyone in human history, to no end? The loneliness? The emptiness of purely financial pursuits? What do you really have to lose?”

“I did not start the climate crisis. This is not my fault.”

“Yeah but if you’re one of the only people that can stop it, and you don’t, isn’t that the same thing?”

He stared at his plate, refusing to make eye contact. She allowed time to pass.

When he looked up, defiance glittered in his eyes. “I won’t be bullied by you or anyone else. You’re just like the rest of them, trying to take something that’s mine. I won’t let you use your kumbaya bullshit to manipulate me.”

“Suit yourself.” She picked up her phone, which had been lying face down on the table. Her fingers danced around the keyboard. “I’ve recorded our conversation and intend to make it public.”

“I will sic my lawyers on you so fast your head will spin.”

“Well, I happen to be a lawyer. And New Mexico is a one-party consent state. So they can try.”

“You’re extorting me?”

“Is showing people who you are extortion?”

“How much? How much for the recording?” He sneered.

“I can’t be bought.”

“Everyone can be bought.”

She smiled. “Ok I’ll play. Pay your damn employees. Raise everyone’s compensation to a livable wage and, assuming your numbers check out, I won’t release it. You’ll get a massive PR bump – not the same bump you’d get for saving the planet but I’ll take my wins where I can get them. And soon we’ll raise the minimum wage anyway and your hand will be forced – might as well get in front of it so you get that credit you value so much.”

“Bullshit,” he spat. “No one is that altruistic. What’s the catch?”

“No catch. I just already have enough. And that’s something you’ll never have.”