
Donald Trump speaks behind a plaque gifted to him by Apple CEO Tim Cook. (Photo by Win McNamee/Getty Images)
On Wednesday afternoon this week, inside the Oval Office, Apple chief Tim Cook stood beside Donald Trump and unveiled a sleek, engraved piece of glass mounted on a 24-karat gold base.
“This bottom was made in the U.S., in California,” said Cook, gesturing to the object with trembling hands. “And this glass comes off the Corning line. It’s engraved for President Trump, it’s a unique unit of one. It was designed by a U.S. Marine Corps corporal, a former one, that works at Apple now.”
“And the base comes from Utah, and is 24-karat gold,” he continued, as Trump stood behind him beaming.
It was a remarkable scene before television cameras, not for the craftsmanship of the gleaming object with Trump’s name etched into the glass, but for the symbolism. The chief executive of one of the world’s most powerful companies publicly offering a literal golden plaque to a president who has spent years threatening Apple’s business with tariffs, pressuring it to bring manufacturing home, publicly chiding it for making iPhones overseas, and even once calling for a boycott of the brand.
The plaque—a one-of-a-kind slab of Apple glass—was a public offering, a ceremonial gift meant to placate a transactional leader. It looked like something out of a strongman’s palace, the kind of pageantry we associate with authoritarian regimes where business leaders present tributes to secure political favor.
But what made the scene more jarring was who was doing it. Apple has spent years cultivating an image as a values-driven company, one that speaks up for human rights, privacy, inclusion, and free expression. It has also made a point of championing LGBTQ rights, pressuring states to drop discriminatory laws, and touting diversity as a core value. Now its leader was standing beside a president who has launched an all-out war on transgender Americans, rolled back LGBTQ freedoms, and sought to control censorship.
"Not only is it embarrassing for Cook, but I guarantee Trump won't remember what that is or who gave it to him," Seth Meyers quipped on “Late Night.” "Within a week he's going to turn that thing onto its side and use it as a plate for one of his Big Macs."
Alongside the plaque, Cook announced Apple would expand its U.S. investments by $100 billion, including making all cover glass for iPhones and Apple Watches at a Corning facility in Kentucky. The timing was no accident: Apple is navigating Trump’s tariff war and his demands to make iPhones in America. While Cook didn’t give Trump what he wanted, the moment was staged to give him a public win amid mounting pressure over the economy, immigration, and the Epstein Files.
So what does Cook get in return? Maybe a reprieve from tariffs. Maybe a photo op that buys goodwill. Maybe nothing. But the playbook is clear. Trump prizes public displays of loyalty. He rewards flattery and punishes dissent. And Cook gave it to him.
Apple’s chief is hardly alone. The technology and media industry has a long line of leaders who have reshaped their public posture or business strategy in a clear bid to placate Trump. Mark Zuckberberg’s Meta overhauled its policies almost immediately after Trump took office, loosening content moderation rules and ending its long-standing fact-checking program, claiming adopting the MAGA narrative it was “too politically biased.” At the same time, Jeff Bezos has overseen sweeping changes at The Washington Post—blocking an endorsement of Kamala Harris and restricting its opinion pages—that have alienated staff, gutted morale, and sent subscribers fleeing.
For Apple, the stakes are obviously high. Trump threatened to impose 100% tariffs on the chips used to power iPhones and other products made internationally. He’s also continued aggressive regulatory actions against Big Tech, which Apple is not immune from. Cook, a pragmatic leader, appears to be hedging to protect Apple’s bottom line, promising Trump to work with American companies even if it cant actually build an iPhone in the U.S.
“But the good news for companies like Apple is, if you’re building in the United States, or have committed to build, without question, committed to build in the United States, there will be no charge,” Trump said of his threatened chip tariffs.
Of course, the cost of Cook’s courtship is a high one. By indulging in the spectacle, the Apple boss helped legitimize Trump’s transactional style. The golden plaque was less about celebrating American manufacturing than about feeding the president’s appetite for praise.
Cook may see it as a small concession for Apple’s stability, but the performance was corrosive. It signaled to other corporate leaders that pandering is the price of doing business, and that principles are negotiable when profits are on the line. This wasn’t statesmanship. It was theater—and Cook played his part to the hilt, right down to the gold base.