Rich people and powerful corporations have tried to influence government throughout American History. During the Gilded Age, railroad companies, oil barons,
and political machines used money and clout to shape public policy. The Teapot Dome scandal exposed government officials taking bribes in exchange for giving private companies access to federal oil reserves. Watergate highlighted another abuse of political power. Americans have seen corruption before.
There's nothing new about corporations trying to influence government. What's new is that the President of the United States is directly involved in the scheme. Donald Trump has found a way to make the presidency extremely profitable, and the largest corporations in America are paying millions to get closer to the man behind the curtain.
According to a recent Wall Street Journal investigation, Trump's fundraising operation has collected more than $800 million dollars for his inaugural fund, presidential library, White House ballroom, Freedom 250 celebration, PACs and other Trump-controlled entities. That’s a staggering amount of money, but it's not what caught my attention. It was the extent of the president's personal role in raising that money.
Apparently, Donald Trump calls his chief fundraiser, Meredith O'Rourke, from the White House almost every night for updates. He asks which companies have written checks, which haven't, and how much each one has given. If O'Rourke plans to ask for $5 million, Trump tells her to ask for $50 million instead. Trump calls O’Rourke the "Princess of Darkness" because, according to the article, she's "such an effective fundraiser." She calls him "The Boss."
The Journal's investigation draws on interviews from dozens of donors, executives, lobbyists, and Trump advisers. Together, they describe an administration that has become completely transactional. Donald Trump has shifted decision-making away from independent agencies and into his own hands, therefore companies are focused on the occupant in the White House. If a company's problems reach the president, executives understand that one of the questions Trump wants answered is how much money did they donate to his pet projects.
Corporations don't write checks for $10, $25, or $50 million dollars because they're feeling generous. They write checks like that because they believe the investment will produce a big fat return. That's how businesses operate. And when you look at the return on those “investments,” it's not hard to understand why they keep writing them.
Let me give you some examples. But before I do, trigger warning. The amount of money Trump has raised for his “projects” may really piss you off, so take deep breaths in and out as I continue.
Coinbase and its CEO each contributed $1 million dollars to Trump's inaugural committee while the company was fighting one of the Security and Exchange Commission's biggest lawsuits. After Trump returned to office, that lawsuit disappeared, and the company continue operating without penalties.
Robinhood gave $2 million dollars while under SEC investigation. Within weeks, the investigation was closed without any enforcement action taken, increasing the company's market value by roughly $1.4 billion.
Ripple contributed nearly $5 million in cryptocurrency, and Trump's SEC dropped its case against the company. The announcement immediately increased the company's market value by $12 billion dollars.
The same thing happened in other industries.
Paramount transferred $16 million to Trump's future presidential library while waiting for approval of its $8.4 billion dollar merger with Skydance. Twenty-two days later, the FCC approved the merger.
Pilgrim's Pride gave $5 million dollars, the largest single corporate contribution to Trump's inaugural fund. Three months later, Trump's SEC cleared the way for Pilgrim's parent company, JBS, to list on the New York Stock Exchange, allowing the company to raise billions of dollars from investors. They had waited years to leap over that hurdle.
On April 30, 2026, Reynolds American gave another $5 million to Trump's super PAC, bringing its total contributions to $8 million. Seven days later, Trump's FDA announced a policy the tobacco industry had dreamed of for years, allowing flavored vaping products and nicotine pouches to remain on the market while companies waited for federal authorization.
Lockheed Martin helped finance Trump's White House ballroom. Afterward, the company received approximately $43.8 billion dollars in new or expanded federal contracts, including a Patriot missile agreement worth up to $58.6 billion. That’s billion with a B.
The examples I just gave involve different industries, different federal agencies, and different government decisions, but they all point in the same direction. Companies with business before the federal government are writing enormous checks to organizations controlled by Trump while he plays a direct role in the decisions that affect those companies. We call that pay for play.
Wall Street analyst Blair Levin gave a name to this arrangement. He called it "the Trump transaction tax." I also found another of Levin's observations striking. In his words, we're replacing the free market (aka capitalism) with "the market for Trump's affections." That's coming from someone who has spent decades analyzing the intersection of business and government.
Corporations don't spend tens of millions of dollars unless they expect to get something in return.
Apple didn't have to donate $25 million to Trump projects. SoftBank didn't have to give $50 million. Chevron didn't have to dish out $50 million. Meta donated $10 million and then committed another $22 million to Trump's planned presidential library, which apparently is going to be a big glass building with a ginormous gold statue in it.
Amazon gave $5 million. Timothy Mellon contributed more than $100 million to MAGA Inc. None of those were acts of generosity. They were business decisions made by people who believed the financial rewards would outweigh the cost by far.
Businesses make decisions every day. Some ethical. Most not. Earlier this year, Anthropic refused the Trump administration's demand to remove safeguards on mass domestic surveillance and fully autonomous weapons. The administration responded by threatening to cut off government business. Their CEO said the company "cannot in good conscience accede" to those demands. Anthropic accepted the financial consequences because it concluded there were ethical lines it would not cross.
Many of the largest corporations in the United States decided they didn’t have a problem crossing those lines. Because they knew billions of dollars could hinge on government contracts, merger approvals, regulatory decisions, lawsuits, tariffs, and federal policy. They decided it was worth it because they know Donald Trump personally keeps track of who pays, who doesn't, and how much each company gives.
Trump has inserted himself into decisions, making access to him more valuable than ever. They continue paying because they've decided that whatever ethical line they're crossing is less important than the profits waiting on the other side of the transaction.
They say it’s the price of doing business.
Donald could not do this alone. Meredith O'Rourke makes the calls to raise the money. Corporate executives choose to pay. Federal agencies carry out the decisions. Congress has the constitutional authority to investigate every part of this operation and has chosen not to. Those choices keep the grift going.
Donald Trump cares about money and the power. Corporate America cares about profits. In a system like that, ethics, public trust, oversight, and accountability become obstacles to ignore rather than principles to protect.
That is the Trump transaction tax. And we're all paying for it.

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