On September 28, 2008, at 11:16 a.m. local time, the Space Exploration Technologies Corporation, or SpaceX, founded by Elon Musk, launched its Falcon 1 rocket from Kwajalein Atoll in the central Pacific. Remarkably, it achieved low orbit just nine-and-a-half minutes later.
This moment is often seen as a significant turning point in history. As Sharon Weinberger discusses in her book “Valley of Death: How Big Tech is Fueling the Future of War,” Musk demonstrated that space exploration, once the sole domain of nations, could now be pursued with private funding. Fast forward two decades, and Axios labeled SpaceX as the “most valuable defense contractor globally.”
Weinberger, a seasoned national-security journalist with experience in tech and defense, brings a wealth of insights to her work. She was in the Pentagon on September 11, 2001, and has toured many tech hubs. Her book benefits from access to key figures, often speaking on background, unpublished documents from military and tech sources, and direct accounts from pivotal events.
“Valley of Death” serves as a contemporary examination of the merging worlds of defense and technology—an ongoing dialogue dating back to works like William Manchester’s “The Arms of Krupp” (1965). The significance of this topic cannot be overstated, especially given how rapidly AI is reshaping daily life.
We must also acknowledge the formidable impact of this intersection, which has led to the creation of nuclear weapons that reshaped cities and mankind’s successful lunar missions. Yet, what makes today’s scenario distinct is that private entities wield unprecedented power over the arsenal used by democratic nations.
The book’s title, “valley of death,” refers to the disconnect between developing a weapon system and its effective deployment by troops. This lag is primarily due to the Pentagon’s notoriously slow and expensive acquisition processes, with former Google CEO Eric Schmidt suggesting that “the valley of death is the Pentagon.”
Then came innovators like Musk and others—Peter Thiel of Palantir, Palmer Luckey of Anduril, and several newcomers such as Horacio Rozanski of Booz Allen and Sam Altman of OpenAI. These individuals created a more agile business model. Instead of waiting for the Pentagon to identify needs and contract with traditional defense giants like Lockheed Martin or Boeing, they developed technology and weapons independently, selling or leasing to the government afterward.
These privately funded innovations are utilized at various stages in military operations, from software handling vast datasets to actual weaponry.
In 2025, defense-tech startups attracted around $50 billion in investments. Weinberger notes that this funding surge occurred while venture capital for other startup types, apart from AI, had significantly dwindled.
These new technology firms quickly surpassed the market value of older competitors. For example, as detailed by Weinberger, Tesla’s valuation was $1.45 trillion last year—almost six times that of Toyota, which posted much higher revenues. Similarly, Palantir had a valuation nearing $435 billion, the highest among defense companies, despite lesser income compared to prime contractors.
Weinberger thoughtfully navigates the ethical and practical issues arising from this profound change in how military technology is developed and monetized—considerations growing increasingly urgent as China positions itself as a formidable rival and many tech leaders rely on complex production networks within the country. Will these defense-tech billionaires be able to influence U.S. foreign policy?
This tension has already been highlighted. After Russia invaded Ukraine in February 2022, Musk responded to requests from Kyiv for SpaceX’s Starlink satellite network by secretly supplying thousands of terminals to the beleaguered government. However, when Ukraine later asked for coverage during a planned push to reclaim Crimea—annexed by Russia in 2014—Musk considered the operation likely to lead to heavy casualties and declined the request.
A similar situation arose when Anthropic resisted the use of its AI models for mass surveillance or unmonitored lethal operations under a potential Trump administration. Weinberger reports that the rapid advancement of AI left the Pentagon contending with firms that hold significant influence over military-critical technologies. In a bid to regain control, Defense Secretary Pete Hegseth blacklisted Anthropic and opted to work with OpenAI instead.
“Valley of Death” unfolds chronologically, beginning with the Navy’s acquisition of land in what became Silicon Valley back in February 1931. Throughout pivotal moments—from the Cold War to 9/11, Iraq, Ukraine, and beyond—Weinberger points out how technology has evolved and how the ties between tech companies and the Pentagon have strengthened, often not necessarily benefiting U.S. national security.
However, there are a few notable omissions from Weinberger’s thorough analysis. One such absence is President Nixon’s establishment of the White House Office of Telecommunications Policy in 1970, which unified federal policy in this emerging field. Its key achievement, the 1972 “Open Skies” policy, dismantled the government’s monopoly over domestic satellite launches and invited private sector participation.
Another point not emphasized is the surge in Iraq, where studies indicate that U.S. forces were able to neutralize a powerful insurgency in part by leveraging cellphone data for intelligence and targeting purposes.
Additionally, cyber warfare, extensively explored in previous literature, is lightly referenced here, yet Stuxnet—a groundbreaking piece of malware introduced under the Obama administration to hinder Iran’s nuclear capability—is entirely overlooked.
At times, the barrage of contracts and financial figures can make “Valley of Death” feel somewhat overwhelming. However, the book shines when Weinberger recounts her experiences with military leaders and tech innovators. Her description of a drone demonstration in the Santa Cruz Mountains, hosted by Ondas Holdings, evokes a unique atmosphere.
“Above us, on an upper deck of the winery, wearing a black mask was Yeti, a Ukrainian drone pilot, demonstrating the technology,” she writes. “It was surreal to have actual battlefield pilots showcasing drones above a California winery, drops of water bottles rather than weapons. A setting once for concerts and weddings turned out to be an excellent venue for flying drones.”
