OpenAI’s President Dodges Questions, Does ‘All the Things’

Elon Musk’s legal team has scored its most effective witness yet in the battle against OpenAI, though it wasn’t a person. It was a journal. Specifically, the personal notes of Greg Brockman, OpenAI’s president, who took the stand in a disjointed proceeding that saw him cross-examined before being questioned directly by his own counsel. The result was a masterclass in evasive testimony, peppered with the kind of semantic nitpicking that makes courtroom drama so compelling.

Brockman’s performance was marked by a defensive, almost pedantic tone. When Musk’s attorney, Steven Molo, read aloud from evidence, Brockman would interrupt to correct the omission of minor words like “a” or “the.” Asked whether Microsoft’s $10 billion investment was the largest financial event in OpenAI’s history, he quipped that it was the only such investment. This kind of hair-splitting, while technically accurate, did little to endear him to the jury. As a general rule, if you can define “epistemology,” you probably shouldn’t testify in your own defense.

The real damage, however, came from Brockman’s own journal entries, which painted a stark picture of opportunism and greed circa 2017. One entry read: “btw another realization from this is that it’d be wrong to steal the non-profit from him. to convert to a b-corp without him. that’d be pretty morally bankrupt and he’s really not an idiot.” Another mused, “maybe we should just flip to a for-profit. making money for us sounds great and all.” A third noted, “cannot say we are committed to the non-profit. don’t wanna say we’re committed. if three months later we’re doing a b-corp it is a lie.” The phrase “steal the non-profit” echoes Musk’s own accusation that OpenAI’s leadership sought to “steal a charity.”

Musk’s team leveraged these entries to paint Brockman as motivated by personal enrichment. The infamous journal question, “What will take me to $1B?” was introduced, and it was established that Brockman’s stake in OpenAI’s for-profit arm was worth roughly $30 billion. Molo pressed him on why, if $1 billion was sufficient, he hadn’t donated $29 billion to the non-profit. Brockman’s response was a meandering discussion of the non-profit’s stake in the for-profit entity, failing to address the core question. He never offered simple explanations like market liquidity constraints or the signaling value of retaining equity.

The cross-examination descended into absurdity over a purple box. Molo asked if OpenAI used such boxes to highlight important information. Brockman denied it, only for a document to be presented showing they were, in fact, used for that purpose in employee and investor materials. “Why are we fighting about the fucking purple box?” I scribbled in my notes.

Further complicating Brockman’s credibility were his financial ties to companies doing business with OpenAI, including Cerebras, CoreWeave, Stripe, and Helion Energy. While the Stripe deal may be minor, the commitments to Cerebras and CoreWeave are substantial. Brockman also holds a 1 percent stake in Sam Altman’s family office, a compensation arrangement made when Y Combinator stock ran out. A 2017 email showed Musk’s assistant alerting him to this deal, to which Musk responded with a “??” to Brockman, who then had to explain it.

When direct examination finally began, Brockman’s narrative shifted to a polished, almost saccharine origin story. He described OpenAI as his and Altman’s brainchild, born from shared conversations after leaving Stripe. The plan was initially a Y Combinator research arm, but Musk vetoed that due to his aversion to the incubator. The testimony was filled with cozy details of dinners and Napa trips, painting a picture of creative harmony. A photo from OpenAI’s first day showed the team at Brockman’s apartment, with Altman present but Musk notably absent.

Musk was characterized as a distant, sometimes menacing figure. At one dinner, he asked if Google’s Demis Hassabis was evil. Brockman said Musk was “very consistent and fixated” on Hassabis, rarely mentioning Larry Page, whom Musk had blamed for OpenAI’s creation. A text from Ilya Sutskever to Brockman read: “Elon might spend half a day a week with us. I imagined how it will be and I worry that our work environment can become very stressful.”

The jury now faces a difficult choice between two men whose trustworthiness is deeply compromised. Brockman’s evasiveness and self-serving journal entries have made him a problematic witness, while Musk’s own reputation for volatility looms large. The outcome of this case may hinge on which version of greed and ambition the jury finds more believable.