After the Rogan-Zuckerberg summit, I’ve been trying to pinpoint when Mark Zuckerberg—(pre-Meta) Facebook’s CEO—began being widely perceived as an alien supervillain. A reasonable starting point might be the period between 2016 and 2018. This was when the Cambridge Analytica scandal and its connection to the 2016 U.S. Presidential Election came to light, significantly damaging Facebook’s reputation. Even before that, Facebook faced antitrust investigations and criticism for failing to protect user data. The public perception solidified that they were less about safeguarding privacy and more about monetizing it. Pejorative nicknames like “Mark Cuckerberg” (a reference to the term “cuck,” meaning a man who is allegedly emasculated or humiliated) became popular, partly due to his perceived progressive leanings. He’s certainly endured some harsh labels.
That said, Zuckerberg provides a service—for free—to billions. Yes, billions. Let that sink in: billions of people use his platforms at no cost, and many mock him while doing so. Few in the private sector have managed this scale of global impact. Next to Google, Zuckerberg’s achievements in providing accessible services are unmatched. Despite Google's power, they failed to replicate Facebook’s social media dominance. Zuckerberg’s public persona, however, has taken a hit, partly due to botched interviews and disclosures, painting him as an uber-nerd—a robotic, inhuman figure. The Rogan interview attempted to showcase a different side of him and, in my opinion, succeeded. That’s not to overly praise Rogan—his podcast often fails as a reliable barometer of truth—but it did humanize Zuckerberg to an extent.
It’s easy to criticize the societal impact of Zuckerberg’s business ventures. Social media has undeniably reshaped human communication, often with significant consequences. Meta’s products have indirectly caused harm—some have even lost their lives as a result—but they’ve also improved countless lives. Social media’s emphasis on vanity and self-promotion didn’t arise in a vacuum; it reflected user demand, and algorithms merely amplified what people already sought.
The interview also highlighted Zuckerberg’s evolving public persona. Once perceived as a harmless dork, he’s pivoted to an image that blends nerdy intellect with physical grit, thanks to his involvement in Brazilian jiu-jitsu and his association with MMA circles. This shift included aligning himself with UFC President Dana White, who recently joined Facebook’s board of directors. White’s presence signals a clear cultural and strategic shift—a departure from the DEI-focused image Zuckerberg once projected. White, known for his no-nonsense style and connections to former President Donald Trump, is an interesting addition to the board of the world’s largest social media company.
The implications of White’s involvement go beyond optics. As a friend and employer of Rogan, White’s position raises questions about the potential political engineering of Zuckerberg’s Rogan interview. Still, the podcast provided valuable insights, such as Zuckerberg’s candid remarks on governmental pressure during the COVID-19 pandemic. His claim that the Biden administration pressured Meta over COVID-related content, supported by public emails, seems credible and worth scrutiny.
Ultimately, Zuckerberg’s appearance on Rogan’s podcast was a politically astute move. By voicing his frustrations about international fines—akin to tariffs—on American tech companies, Zuckerberg subtly appealed to nationalist sentiments. He’s correct in arguing that the U.S. protects its industries in other sectors, so why not tech? This positioning aligns with a broader shift in America’s political and economic landscape.
Zuckerberg’s transformation is emblematic of the times. He’s adapting to a “new America,” one where populist discontent has reshaped the status quo. Trump’s election wasn’t a fluke orchestrated by foreign agents; it was a reaction to widespread dissatisfaction. Zuckerberg is aligning himself with this changing tide, projecting an image that’s part tech mogul, part martial artist, part everyman.
His $900,000 Greubel Forsey watch—paired with a plain T-shirt—is a perfect metaphor for this era of American capitalism. The ultra-wealthy are increasingly visible, unapologetically flaunting their success while positioning themselves as benefactors of humanity. Zuckerberg, in many ways, embodies this paradox. He’s both a target of public ire and an architect of the platforms that shape modern life. As society navigates this algorithm-driven reality, it’s worth acknowledging the dual role he’s played: both enabling and exploiting the systems that define our age.