Trump’s government just bought itself a 10% stake in Intel. Yes, Intel — the $200 billion chipmaker whose products you’re probably using to read this. That’s roughly a $20 billion slice of the action, bought not by venture capitalists in Silicon Valley but by the White House itself.

Normally, when we hear about governments taking stakes in companies, our Western reflex is to roll our eyes in the direction of Beijing. “That’s not capitalism,” we mutter. “That’s state control. That’s socialism with Chinese characteristics.”

But here we are, watching the United States leaf through the same playbook. “Capitalism with American characteristics,” if you like.

The rationale is “national security.” Chips are the new oil, the foundation of the modern economy. No chips, no iPhones. No chips, no AI. No chips, no TikTok videos of cats falling off furniture. So the US government decides: fine, if the market won’t protect us, we’ll just buy a seat at the table.

Now, one stake does not a revolution make. But think about what a systematised version of this could look like. If the US government took, say, a 5–10% stake in any firm valued at over $100 billion, it would instantly hold positions worth hundreds of billions of dollars. Apple alone is valued at over $3 trillion. A 10% slice? $300 billion. Microsoft: $2.8 trillion, another $280 billion. Google: $2.2 trillion, $220 billion. Throw in Amazon, Meta, Nvidia, and you’re quickly talking about over $1 trillion in public equity. And that’s before you even look at the “smaller” giants.

What could you do with that? Well, instead of begging billionaires to pay their taxes or chasing profits through complex international shell games, governments would have direct streams of dividend income tied to the very companies that thrive most in this system. Society as shareholder, not supplicant.

Think of it as a new rule of the game: once a company hits escape velocity, part of it belongs to the commons. Not out of punishment, not as a bailout, but simply because your success rests on everything society built around you: the infrastructure, the research, the legal protections, the health system that keeps your workers alive. You’ve dined well at the buffet of the commons — the least you can do is leave society with a share of dessert.

Now, I can already hear the libertarians hyperventilating into their Soylent bottles. “It’s theft!” they’ll cry. But unlike taxation, you can’t dodge this with clever accounting. No matter how many shell companies you conjure in the Caymans, you can’t magic away the fact that the state owns 5% of you. If you succeed, society succeeds. If you tank, well, no bailout for you next time.

This ties neatly into the Universal Basic Income debate. Scott Santens makes the case beautifully: UBI is about protecting people from the relentless monetisation of life itself. Every formerly free corner of existence is eyed hungrily by corporations: want to talk to your GP in Ireland? That’s €65 a visit. Want to read the news? Paywall. Want to drink clean water? Good luck — unless you’re willing to pay more to avoid PFAS (that’s per- and polyfluoroalkyl substances, the so-called “forever chemicals” that don’t break down and are quietly accumulating in rivers, soils, and bodies).

UBI is a shield against that: fine, you can monetise, but people will still have the freedom to live with dignity. And where does the money come from? Why not from the companies most entangled with the state? The ones that thrive on government contracts, protection, and now even investment?

This isn’t about punishing success. It’s about recognising that markets aren’t floating free in space. They’re embedded in society, propped up by it, and reliant on it. When companies reach a scale where their failure or success affects nations, it makes sense for the people who built the launchpad to hold a stake in the rocket.

Trump almost certainly doesn’t see it that way. His government’s stake in Intel isn’t about creating a fairer society. It’s about power, control, leverage. But unintentionally, it gives us a glimpse of a future where we stop pretending that corporations are purely private, separate creatures, and admit what they really are: symbiotic with the state.

Call it socialism, call it state capitalism, call it what you like. I call it overdue honesty.

As always, be excellent to each other.