It has now been an entire week since I first posed a simple question: where, exactly, is the much-publicized Trump phone? The response, regrettably, remains as hollow as before—nothing, nowhere, silence. There has been no discernible movement, no official statement, and not even the faintest whisper of progress. Because this absence of information persists unbroken, I find myself compelled to raise the same query once again. Indeed, it feels as though I am destined to repeat this ritual indefinitely—each passing week, without fail—until I am quite literally holding the elusive T1 Phone in my own hands. Somehow, this ongoing search has become an unwanted yet habitual part of my professional life. This, to put it simply, is my new normal.

A week later, absolutely nothing has changed. The company’s official website remains frozen in time, unaltered and untouched. It still lists the vague promise of a release date no more specific than the ambiguous phrase “sometime this year.” My repeated outreach efforts—several polite but pointed emails directed at Trump Mobile—have all gone unanswered. On social media, the firm’s accounts are equally inert: no posts, no replies, no updates, and certainly no clarifying statements. The digital silence surrounding this enterprise is almost deafening.

But the issue extends beyond simple delay or miscommunication. Trump Mobile did not merely fail to fulfill its own ambitious promise of a groundbreaking new smartphone; it has, rather remarkably, managed to collect substantial sums of money from enthusiastic early supporters in the process. This isn’t just non-delivery—it’s classic vaporware at its most audacious. Before a single functioning device ever appeared, prospective customers were required to place a $100 deposit to secure their preorder, effectively investing in a product that, months later, still exists only as an abstraction.

For many of these hopeful buyers, that $100 has now been tied up for nearly five months. To anyone unfamiliar with financial principles, it might seem like a negligible delay, but basic economics reminds us that capital, when properly invested, tends to generate growth. Let me be clear: this is decidedly not financial advice—if anything, it is the opposite—but it does underscore the principle that idle money, even in small quantities, carries opportunity cost. Even if one were to assume that Trump Mobile had made absolutely zero progress toward engineering or producing an actual smartphone (and to date, there is no evidence whatsoever that such production exists), those accumulated deposits would still represent a significant pool of liquid capital—an amount capable of generating measurable returns.

Curious to quantify those potential gains, and while freely admitting that I possess no formal background in finance, I consulted the suspiciously authoritative-sounding website **stoculator.com**. According to its estimations—a source I shall, for the sake of intellectual consistency, trust completely—an initial $100 investment made on June 16th, the very day the Trump Phone was first announced, could have appreciated quite respectably by now. Had that sum been strategically placed in Elon Musk’s frequently volatile but often profitable Tesla stock, the figure today would stand at $131.90, reflecting a $31.90 profit. Alternatively, investing in Apple, the quintessential emblem of American tech stability, would have yielded an even more favorable result: roughly $136.57, amounting to a $36.57 gain. By contrast, a cautious placement in the diversified S&P 500 index would have generated a far more modest return, producing just over $10 in profit—a comparatively small, yet still positive, outcome.

On an individual level, those gains—ten, thirty, perhaps thirty-five dollars—may not seem especially significant. However, because the public has absolutely no data on how many preorders Trump Mobile accepted, or how many customers willingly parted with that initial $100, the cumulative total becomes a matter of intriguing speculation. Were dozens, hundreds, or even thousands of deposits collected? And among them, how many purchasers have since requested refunds, received reimbursements, or simply abandoned hope of retrieval? For every lost opportunity of personal investment return—each $30 that could have been earned elsewhere—lies a corresponding amount that may have quietly accrued to someone else’s benefit.

It is perhaps unsurprising, then, that when pressed for clarification or comment, the Trump Organization once again chose silence. No written statement, no explanation, and certainly no acknowledgment of this lingering mystery have emerged. The question remains suspended in digital limbo—waiting, unanswered—as week turns into yet another week, and the mythical T1 phone remains as intangible as ever.

Sourse: https://www.theverge.com/news/816484/does-trump-phone-exist-yet