Tag: News

• MrBeast listed three factors that drive his massive YouTube viewership during a deposition last year.
• He called out his high-budget spectacles, originality, and his obsession with quality as key.
• MrBeast employs around 300 people in his Greenville, NC headquarters to pull off his video stunts.

What is MrBeast's secret to YouTube popularity?

During a court deposition last November, YouTube's top creator, whose real name is Jimmy Donaldson, boiled his videos' success to three main factors:

• High-budget spectacles
• Originality
• Obsession over content quality

At a high level, the creator's dominance is rooted in the work of hundreds of creative staffers who help dream up video ideas, build elaborate sets, and ruthlessly optimize to YouTube's recommendation algorithm.

Let's dive into the three key elements of his content strategy, starting with the MrBeast spectacle:

There's no denying that MrBeast is YouTube's king of stunts.

"I buried myself alive for seven days. No one else does that kind of stuff," Donaldson said during the deposition.

Beyond entombing himself, MrBeast has also sent a train barreling into a giant pit and raced a car against a cheetah, among other spectacles.

The creator employs around 300 staffers in his Greenville, North Carolina headquarters — and roughly 450 in total — to help him pull off his wild ideas. He recently hired ex-NBCUniversal executive Corie Henson to run his studio division and expand the company's content slate. The MrBeast team will soon release the second season of its Amazon Prime Video show, "Beast Games," and recently released a separate animated series on YouTube.

While pulling off stunts has become a genre on YouTube, coming up with original ideas that feel unique to MrBeast is also core to the company's strategy.

"We usually have pretty original ideas," Donaldson said during his deposition. "People are like, 'Oh, this is cool, original, far-out content,' and they gravitate towards it."

While many YouTubers end up imitating each other's video ideas, MrBeast's edge stems from making his audience of over 450 million subscribers believe they're always getting something unique. Donaldson is often trying to break a record, like building the largest reality-TV competition set.

"I feel like in this day and age, so many content creators are trying to be him," a former MrBeast staffer told Business Insider earlier this year. "But he will always be MrBeast. He has access to things that no one else does."

Lastly, MrBeast is obsessed with content quality (as determined by his own taste). Former MrBeast creatives told Business Insider that he will sometimes throw out an already filmed video if it doesn't feel up to his standards.

"I'm just really obsessed with the quality of my videos and do everything in my power to make it as good as possible," Donaldson said during his deposition. "It's kind of what I obsessed over most of my life. People can tell the effort we put into them."

• Newport, Rhode Island, is a popular summer destination, but it's even better during the winter.
• It's less crowded in the colder months, and the historic mansions are decked out for the holidays.
• I recommend taking a nighttime stroll near Bowen's Wharf and visiting a seasonal hot chocolate bar.

When the narrow cobblestone streets begin to empty, the usually omnipresent sailboats are tucked away in storage, and the Del's Lemonade trucks are closed for the season, it's clear that winter has arrived in Newport, Rhode Island.

I'm a Rhode Island local who spends time in this coastal city year-round. Tourists usually flock to Newport during summer, and I get it: The city's Gilded Age buildings, sweeping coastal views, and quaint local businesses make it a great beachy getaway.

That said, I believe there's something enchanting about The City by the Sea in the winter, when the mansions are decked out in holiday decor and the crowds have thinned.

Newport fully embraces the magic of the holiday season

One day, pumpkins and gourds line doorsteps, but seemingly as soon as October ends, white lights glisten on trees and Christmas ornaments sparkle along Bowen's Wharf.

Early in December, there's an annual tree lighting at the wharf, complete with carolers, hot chocolate, and warm cinnamon-sugar doughnuts.

There's a lot to explore around Bowen's Wharf, too. The Kiel James Patrick flagship store always decks the halls and becomes a picture-perfect backdrop for Christmas photos.

Nearby is Thames Street, where I love peeking in shop windows to find the best nautical gifts for the holidays.

A must-stop is the store A Christmas to Remember, where you can buy a hand-personalized ornament that looks like just about any object under the sun, from a macaron to a seashell.

For those interested in spending a snowy weekend on the coast, I'd recommend the Almondy Inn, a Victorian bed and breakfast with gorgeous harbor views, just steps away from downtown.

Drive along Bellevue Avenue to see some cheerful, historic glamour

Bellevue Avenue is nothing short of timeless in its beauty, lined with Gilded Age homes. Starting with Salve Regina University's Ochre Court, you can admire rows of beech trees glowing with twinkling lights, and see the historic, châteauesque mansion adorned with wreaths.

Down the street, The Breakers — one of Newport's famous Gilded Age mansions, and a former Vanderbilt residence — hosts its annual holiday light display, illuminating the lawn in festive shades of red and green.

Inside, every room dazzles with holiday charm. You'll find a 15-foot poinsettia tree in the Great Hall, and gorgeous, decorated trees throughout the building.

Winter is the peak time to visit Newport's best restaurants

Without the summer crowds, Newport's best-known spots are even better.

I love seeing the long summer lines at the Nitro Bar, but I prefer being able to walk right in during the winter for pesto, tomato, and mozzarella toast with an iced chai.

For a romantic winter date night, the Clarke Cooke House is perfect for an espresso martini by the fireplace. The Black Pearl also makes an unforgettable cup of warm clam chowder.

Finally, there's nothing better than sharing chicken nachos at Diego's with friends while sipping on white peach sangria.

Although this spot is one I'd like to gatekeep, Mamma Luisa Ristorante Italiano feels like stepping back into my grandmother's Italian home. White tablecloths drape the tables, photos and art line the walls, and the hospitality is impeccable.

I'd also be remiss if I didn't mention the hot-chocolate bar at The Chanler at Cliff Walk, a historic hotel built in the 19th century. Open seasonally through the end of December, there's no better place to grab a cozy cup of cocoa.

With Gilded Age charm, delicious food, and sparkly, holiday vibes, what would be a dark, cold day anywhere else is typically a festive one in Newport.

It was hard to tell who'd known each other for years and who'd just met that morning — the laughter started even before the food arrived.

It was a sunny Wednesday afternoon in September, and I was joining a group of 50 retirees for lunch in Malaysia. They'd been brought together by an expat community that began with one man's efforts to connect people across the country.

The lively crowd of 60-somethings came from all corners of the globe, including Australia, the US, and the UK, and they had each, in their own way, started over here, in the coastal state of Penang.

I had flown up to Penang from Singapore, and I was easily the youngest person there. They greeted me with a few curious looks; someone joked that he wanted to know who my surgeon was.

Most of the retirees I spoke to said they liked that the Malaysian state offered the comforts and conveniences of a major city, but without the hustle and bustle of the country's capital, Kuala Lumpur.

Adrian Spencer, 69, had spent his manufacturing career living and working across five continents, including China and the US. Earlier this year, when it was time to retire, he and his wife knew they wanted to settle down in Penang.

The state comprises both Penang Island and a stretch of mainland Malaysia known as Seberang Perai, connected by two bridges. As of July, it's home to about 1.8 million people, including around 179,900 foreigners.

Nearly everyone I met, including Spencer, said they were on the Malaysia My Second Home (MM2H) visa program, which was first introduced by the government in 2002 to attract foreigners.

It's not technically a retirement visa, as it's open to anyone above the age of 25. The conditions for the program have been tightened over the years, most recently in 2024. Depending on the category of visa, applicants are required to have a minimum bank deposit of between $150,000 and $1 million and also purchase property in Malaysia.

As of December 2024, there were 58,468 active MM2H pass holders in the country.

Along with its thriving food scene and year-round warm weather, Penang's affordability is a major draw. According to listings on real estate site PropertyGuru, studio apartments can be rented for as little as 1,450 Malaysian ringgit, or about $350, a month. Over the past 12 months, homes in Penang sold for a median price of 272,800 ringgit, or about $65,750.

Life here runs smoothly. There's an international airport, a network of local bus services, and English is spoken almost everywhere. Penang also has a robust healthcare system, including several major hospitals and private centers that specialize in oncology and cardiac care.

It's one of the things that Ward Chartier, 70, thought about when looking for a place to settle. As a cancer survivor, he told me, he wanted an opportunity to volunteer with cancer patients.

He's not alone. Ask enough retirees what they're looking for, and the answers all start to sound the same: comfort, companionship, and a sense of purpose.

Indeed, for many retirees here, Penang's charm begins at breakfast and never really ends. From all around the world, they've made this place home — and they're not looking back.

Do you have a story to share about retiring in Asia? Contact this reporter at agoh@businessinsider.com.

• Chad Tredway was a rising star at JPMorgan Chase before launching his own firm in 2021.
• In 2024, he returned to JPMorgan and now leads its $79 billion property investment arm.
• With stocks volatile and real estate on the rise, Tredway is trying to grab investor interest.

Chad Tredway charted a fast path into upper management at JPMorgan Chase, rising from an associate during the Financial Crisis to a senior position overseeing the bank's $20 billion lending business with some of the largest commercial real estate landlords and developers. Business Insider featured Tredway in its first Rising Stars of Wall Street list in 2017.

Then in 2021, he left to launch his own real state company, called Trio Investment Group. The company focused on sale-leaseback transactions where it purchased property assets from owners who occupied their spaces — such as manufacturers — and then leased it back to them.

JPMorgan brought him back by buying Tredway's firm in early 2024 for an undisclosed price and named him head of real estate investment in the Americas for JPMorgan Asset Management, an investment arm of the bank that owns about $79 billion of commercial property.

In May 2025, Tredway, 42, was promoted to global leader of that real estate investment business. In the new position, he regularly travels to meet with both existing and prospective clients, including some of the world's largest investors.

Business Insider caught up with Tredway on his career changes and the opportunities he sees in the real estate market amid a changing economy. The conversation has been edited for length and clarity.

You spent 13 years at JPMorgan Chase and had risen to a leadership position. Why did you leave?

I left with the firm's blessing, and JP Morgan actually invested alongside me, but there is a major opportunity in the sale-leaseback industry. You could get 10-13% returns without taking inordinate amounts of risk. We had over 50 deals in 22 states.

What brought you back?

All the advantages the firm has. Being able to call literally the leading industry experts on everything from M&A to corporate real estate to lending is an advantage you can't get when you're on your own.

JPMorgan purchased your company. How did that deal come about?

The conversation was more: we think there's an amazing opportunity in real estate. We believe we're coming off of cyclical lows. We believe we can be much more entrepreneurial. George Gatch, who leads asset and wealth management, is absolutely phenomenal. I spent a lot of time understanding his vision for growth of the business.

You were a lender, and now you're on the investment side. What was that switch like for you?

Being a lender first really gives you a perspective on risk. Starting my own company gave me a great fundamental understanding of how you add value to clients on the investment side.

What are the themes that you hear from investors?

In the last 50 years, real estate values have only declined by more than 10% three times. We've now had, I think five or six positive quarters of real estate values increasing. I was in a meeting with an investor overseas. They said, look, I'm going to pair my gains in equities. And I'm going to shift into real estate. I'm hearing that conversation more and more.

What kind of an investor was that?

A pension plan. We also hear it from our wealth clients.

What are the big themes for your strategy?

We're focused on industrial outdoor storage. These are where the trucks go at the end of the night. The Amazon trucks, the UPS trucks, the FedEx trucks. Because we have information on half of the US population, for us to be able to see where goods are going, how clients need them, how they're thinking through their spend is something that only we have.

When I was a lender, the anchor of our portfolio was housing. We're doing the same thing here around the world. We have over 80,000 units of housing and we focus on non-luxury housing.

The third theme that we're really seeing is truly the power of manufacturing, whether it's advanced manufacturing or otherwise.

The other place we're finding value, which is also not unlike what I did as a lender, is we're finding more value in middle market real estate today.

This story is part of a series catching up with finance pros we once spotlighted as Rising Stars of Wall Street to see where their careers have taken them. See our 2025 list here.

What qualifies as a middle market?

What we used to see large firms doing was buying billion-dollar transactions. If you look at where we're playing today, our average transaction is between $50 million and $100 million.

Interest rates have come down only slightly, the economic outlook is uncertain, and inflation is stubborn. How do you invest at a time like this?

There are some things that always stay the same. People will always need a place to live. You are always going to want goods from your phone to your doorstep as fast as you possibly can.

What do you think of the booming data center market?

Technology risk is real. It's really difficult to predict what will actually happen with technology. When I look at overall size and just concentration risk, again, it's something that we're aware of.

Our focus today has been more on buying high quality real estate in great locations where we have an edge. We have not been focused in the data center space at this time because of that.

When do you move into JPMorgan's new offices at 270 Park Avenue?

I don't control the seating plans for 270. We have multiple buildings, as you know.

As a real estate nerd, one of my favorite things to do is walk through 270. It embodies New York; it embodies the strength of the largest bank in the United States. Clients have even commented on the detail and the focus and what it does.

• Gigi Principe, 26, became a line-sitter in 2023 when her life was at a low point, she said.
• She has waited in lines for access to restaurants , sample sales, and trials for lawyers, the press, and the public.
• Principe said she has learned there are two key things people will pay for.

This as-told-to essay is based on a conversation with Gigi Principe, 26, who has been working for Same Ole Line Dudes, a line-sitting company, since 2023 and is now a manager. Business Insider has verified her employment. It's been edited for length and clarity.

Life after graduating college in 2019 meant bouncing from job to job, burning myself out at each one. Getting furloughed during the pandemic didn't help, but I eventually started working odd gigs again and auditioning for acting roles. There were times when I would struggle financially, then do okay, then struggle, then do okay. It was a pattern that I hated, but a pattern I was used to. It was so stressful.

The job came at the right time

In 2023, at my lowest year personally, a friend referred me to Same Ole Line Dudes, a company that pays people to wait in lines on their behalf. My first gig was a Jimmy Choo sample sale in October of 2023. When I first got the Google Invite form for the job, I thought it was a scam. All I had to do was show up and sit in line, and I'd get paid around $74.

I was only planning to be there for four hours, but I relooped to the back of the line for another client and made extra money. I basically got addicted, and soon, I was hustling. Once the company figured out I was in it for the long run and was broke, they kept calling me back for more sample sales — The Row, Versace, McQueen. You've got to understand what 74 bucks was for me.

At my previous job, I had a moment where I wished someone would pay me to do nothing, and then boom. I didn't mind sitting out in the winter. Bring a blanket! It was sample sale, sample sale, sample sale, then Lucali's, a pizza place in Brooklyn that doesn't take reservations. It was a top restaurant for us at the time, so getting that job was a sign I'd made it in the company. Lucali's cost $32 an hour, and it was easy peasy to put someone's name down. I knew my way around Brooklyn and kept coming back despite the cold, because, again, I was broke!

Jobs got bigger and bigger

The managers started rewarding me, and eventually, they brought me on full time. I think I spent almost every day of 2024 line-sitting. Donald Trump's trial was huge for us — I would line sit from 4 a.m. to 8 a.m., or sometimes midnight to 8 a.m., and then take the subway to my day job uptown. There were days I might have bailed if I hadn't had my tent.

I also did the Daniel Penny trial, the Luigi Mangione trial, and the Diddy trial. I can't talk about my clients, but I've sat for the press, lawyers, and the public. Sometimes, I travel for clients. (We charge for travel time, and clients pay for the tickets.)

How people spend says a lot

Hourly rates depend on the event — sometimes $25, sometimes $32, sometimes $50 — and I've been getting commission since I became a manager in March. This job is hard, it's taxing on the body, but it saved my life, and it really helps people. I get paid to wait, but also to watch wrestling videos, or write, or rest.

The money keeps flowing in, and that's also taught me a lot about what people are willing to pay for.

First, people will pay a lot for convenience. That's clear when I'm traveling and people pay for my plane tickets, train tickets, or rental cars.

And people will pay to be first. The number of times I hear, 'I want to be first in line,' or at least in the first group, is crazy. I want to make that happen for people, but it's not a simple request — because everybody wants to be first. But I've seen that the little things in life, like being first in the door, really matter to people.

• My wife and I moved to the small town of Nelson, British Columbia, in 2017.
• The lifestyle and pace here are much better for our family, but it's difficult to make friends.
• As an adult, I've had to be more intentional about meeting people.

When my wife and I moved from Calgary to Nelson, British Columbia, in 2017, we thought we knew what we were signing up for. We wanted a slower pace, more nature, and a place where our kids could grow up with freedom and space to explore. What we didn't fully consider, though, was how hard it would be to build new friendships as adults.

We swapped our busy city life with family, old friends, and familiar routines for a town of 11,000 people tucked in the mountains where we didn't know a single person. While the scenery, outdoor adventures, and more relaxed lifestyle were everything we hoped for, the friendships we left behind were harder to replace.

The quiet loneliness of small-town life

Nelson is beautiful in a way that's hard to describe until you've been here. The mountains rise straight from the lake, and the pace of life feels almost intentionally slower. It's the kind of place where people smile at the grocery store, where kids still walk to school, and where you can get across town in 10 minutes.

But there's a difference between being surrounded by friendly people and having real friends.

In Calgary, we had people who'd known us for years. Friends and family would come over for dinner, or we'd get together at a park with our kids on weekends. When we moved, we expected to find new versions of that here. Instead, what we found was a lot of surface-level friendliness but very little follow-through.

When our kids were younger, weekends were filled with playdates, birthday parties, soccer games, and built-in social plans that made it easy to connect with other parents. But now that they're getting older and developing their own lives, those interactions happen less often, and I've realized how much adult friendship requires deliberate effort.

Working remotely makes it even harder

Most of my work happens at home. I split my time between freelance writing and architectural consulting, which means my "commute" is about 20 steps from the kitchen. This setup is fantastic for flexibility, but not for building community.

In an office, you naturally form connections through casual conversations, shared frustrations, and after-work drinks. Working remotely means those moments don't happen unless I create them. And in a town this small, there aren't many networking events or professional meetups to fill the gap.

There are days when I go hours without speaking to anyone who isn't my wife, my kids, or our dog. For someone who loves his work, I didn't expect it to feel isolating. But there's a certain kind of loneliness that comes from not having anyone nearby who really knows you — that special kind of friend who doesn't need context, who you can sit in a comfortable silence with. And I miss that.

Redefining what friendship looks like

I've learned that making friends as an adult looks different from how it did in my 20s. There's no shared dorm, no coworkers in the next cubicle, no built-in social infrastructure. You have to be more intentional, which isn't easy for an introvert who spends most of his day behind a screen.

It took a year or two before I met someone I'd actually call a friend. I got to know a guy at my gym who eventually invited me to join a small running group on weekends. I've also joined a band with one of my son's friends' parents. Through these experiences, I've realized friendship here is a slow process, built around consistency more than convenience. Now, I have a small handful of friends I've met through shared interests and saying yes when the opportunity comes up, even when it would've been easier to stay home.

I still keep in touch with friends back in Calgary, too. We text regularly and get together once every year or two when we're back visiting family. These friendships help fill the gap where the new ones can't, but the ones I've built here feel rooted in this specific chapter of life.

Living in a small town hasn't given me the bustling social circle I once had, but it's taught me that friendship as an adult isn't about how many people you know, it's about finding the few who make this chapter of life feel a little less solitary. And for now, that's enough.

• Edward Perotti is a celebrity event planner with clients including Ariana Grande and Nick Jonas.
• He got his start planning events after being laid off — now he refuses jobs he doesn't want to do.
• He told Business Insider the top trends among A-listers include holograms and hyper-local cuisine.

I fell into event planning by accident — tripped and landed in the mud, really.

Three decades later, I'm still dusting myself off and loving it.

Back then, I was working for one of the early online-publishing companies. When they acquired another firm in Cleveland, they shut down the California division, and I suddenly found myself unemployed, newly married, first child on the way, and panicking.

A friend, the director of catering at a hotel, listened to me whine and said, "My catering manager just quit. Come work with me."

I laughed. "What do I know about catering?"

She said, "I can teach you food. I can't teach you contracts or people."

Needing a paycheck, I said yes. Within six months, I learned that brides, their mothers, and chefs were a volatile mix — and that I was not built to referee that trio. But I loved hospitality, so I moved into hotel sales. That job introduced me to professional event planners. I had no idea the industry even existed.

From theater kid to event producer

I spent my childhood in the theater — acting, stage managing, and building sets. Event planning turned out to be a new version of that: someone gives me a script, I cast it, design the set, direct the lighting, and make sure the audience feels something.

That realization changed everything. Once I joined the planning side, my career just exploded.

Over time, I've worked with high-profile companies and private clients like Ariana Grande and Nick Jonas.

At this stage of my career, I say no more often than I say yes. I choose clients who share my ethics and understand that my job isn't to be a servant but to be of service. You hire me for my expertise and unique perspective. If you're looking for someone to agree with everything, I'm not the right person.

My team jokes that I'm the love child of Martha Stewart and Anthony Bourdain: I can make things exquisitely beautiful and on brand — but I'll walk out if a client crosses a line. I have opinions. I'm direct. But that's why people trust me.

I run my pricing like a law or architecture firm: you pay for my intellectual property and my team's time. Everything else is a pass-through cost.

If we rent furniture or hire a caterer, you'll see the exact costs. I'd rather a client sign vendor contracts directly than suspect hidden profit margins. My reputation is all I have.

Could I charge six figures for every event? Sure — and sometimes the numbers get there. But I can't hand someone a million-dollar invoice with a straight face unless the value is real.

I also push clients to incorporate community give-backs into their celebrations. If you're spending that much money, something good should ripple out from it.

What's in — and what's tired

If you describe an event you saw on "Page Six," I'll stop you mid-sentence. That was someone else's idea, for someone else's story. Let's find out what moved you and build from there.

Please, no more white-marble bars and faux-mid-century "modern" décor. We had a golden opportunity during the COVID-19 pandemic to reinvent how people gather, but most of the industry reverted to the same old formula: long tables, centerpieces, and predictable menus.

The trend I love most is local, local, local — sourcing food, wine, and design elements from wherever we're hosting the event. If you're in Montana, give guests trout, not imported fish. If you're in Paris, let them taste real French cuisine. People remember authenticity, not sameness.

I'm also obsessed with weaving technology into live experiences without losing humanity. We've used holographic greeters that interact with guests, and we can now beam in a keynote speaker from another continent as a life-size hologram onstage. It's the theater kid in me, still staging illusions that make people feel wonder.

Wellness is another growing focus, but I don't treat it as a side station. It's part of the event's DNA. Perhaps that means a zero-proof bar alongside the cocktail bar or quiet areas where guests can unwind and decompress. Inclusivity matters: no one should feel singled out for drinking — or for not drinking.

The real luxury

For me, luxury isn't excess — it's intention. It's creating moments that feel personal, ethical, and rooted in place.

I'm comfortable financially, and my business supports my family—including my youngest son, who's autistic and will always need care. That's what drives me: building something sustainable enough that he'll be secure when I'm gone.

I don't need a sports car. What I love is hopping on a plane to Paris with my family, sitting in a café, and knowing that my work lets me do that.

After all these years, I'm still in the theater — just with a bigger budget and a better audience.

• I love being a mom more than anything, but it's also the hardest job I've ever had.
• I have one daughter, and I don't want to have another child.

People warned me that motherhood "would change everything," and they were right. However, some of the things I was told were different from my experience. After my beautiful daughter turned one, I waited for the feeling that many parents talk about — the feeling of yearning for another baby. The excitement I often heard of when trying for baby #2, along with the fantasy of pushing a double stroller around the neighborhood.

But what I felt instead was something different. I felt at peace. I felt complete. I felt like my family of three brought me certainty. I wasn't secretly hoping for another baby to add to our family. I felt done. And for that, I'm not (and never will be) sorry.

I love my daughter, but motherhood is also a job

I love being a mom more than anything in the world. I love my daughter so much that it brings tears to my eyes just to think about her. But it's also the hardest job I've ever had — and that's a part of motherhood that's talked about less often when the topic comes up. More often, people talk about the magic of having kids and how it goes by so fast. However, there's also the mental load that crushes you some days. And no matter how much you love your child, you can still crash out from exhaustion and overstimulation.

I'm one and done because I know myself and what I can handle. I don't see myself doing multiple rounds of this rodeo. I know what an incredible mother I can be when I'm not stretched past my edge, and I think having another child might do exactly that.

As a new mom, I discovered the narrative that "good moms" are supposed to want more — and want to do more. More children, more overstimulation, and more sacrifice. And that's where I draw the line. Personally, I feel like having a second child would be incredibly taxing for my mental health. I'm already stretched thin — I'm a host on the syndicated morning radio show "The Fred Show," the CEO and founder of The Mami Collective, and the primary caregiver (or, depending on who you ask, the default parent) to my 18-month-old daughter.

Having another baby would likely push my marriage to the ultimate test. I've also spent 12 years building my career — the one I'm so proud of, that brings me so much joy — and I feel it would make me compromise much of that hard work. So, instead of having another child, I'm choosing myself. And because I'm choosing myself, my daughter has the most fulfilled and happiest version of me.

I'm making this choice for myself, my husband, and my daughter

I'm choosing to do what I can to prevent becoming a mom who is hanging on by a thread. I want to pour everything I can into my daughter and give her the best version of myself, and to do so, I need to have emotional bandwidth. While I'm glad to be a mother, I think being the mother of an only child will allow me to do all these things in the best balance — for my daughter, for my husband, and for myself.

I know some people may judge my choice not to have another child, but I don't want to disappear into motherhood. I have an identity outside that part of myself. And I'm not here to fit into anyone's narrative that wants me to lose myself to prove that I love my child.

I'm allowed to say that my body has been through enough from my pregnancy. I'm allowed to say that my mental health matters. I'm allowed to love my child with everything I have, while also loving my decision to be "one and done." Because motherhood doesn't come with an award for burnout. My daughter doesn't need a sibling to be whole, and I don't need to sacrifice myself to prove I'm a good mom.

• Niki Leondakis became CEO of CorePower Yoga after losing her husband and home in a 12-month period.
• She said her decades-long yoga practice helped her heal and the CEO role at CorePower Yoga felt like "a calling."
• Leondakis told her sister she wanted to lead CorePower Yoga before the brand approached her.

Before becoming the CEO of CorePower Yoga, Niki Leondakis led three hotel companies and worked as the CEO of Equinox.

Roughly a year into her tenure at Equinox, she stepped down after her home burned down in a wildfire. Then, exactly a year after that, her husband died of a sudden heart attack.

"I found myself in this 12-month period without a husband, without my career, and without a home," Leondakis told Business Insider.

Leondakis, who joined the yoga chain in 2020, said she wouldn't have re-entered the corporate world for just any opportunity. She said becoming the CEO of CorePower Yoga was her "dream job," even before it was offered to her.

A core part of her life

Prior to leading CorePower Yoga, which has over 220 studios across the country, Leondakis said she always had a "strong discipline around physical activity." The CEO said she's been practicing yoga for over three decades.

"I started yoga because I thought it would help my running when I was marathon training," Leondakis said. Eventually, though, she said she found herself doing less running and more yoga.

Leondakis became so passionate about the practice that she received her 200-hour yoga certification — not because she wanted to become a teacher, but because she desired a deeper understanding of the history and philosophy behind it.

When Leondakis found herself in a turbulent period following the loss of her husband and home, yoga became key to her healing process. Yoga, she said, helped her find gratitude for what she had, rather than focusing on what she lost.

"The one thing that anchored me, grounded me, and helped me process all my emotion was getting on my yoga mat every single day," Leondakis said.

The CEO said she's been practicing with the same yoga teacher for over a decade, and at the time, she was also practicing at CorePower Yoga, near where she lived in San Francisco.

"It carried me through the most difficult times," Leondakis said.

Getting the job

Leondakis had her eyes set on leading CorePower Yoga before she knew there was an opening.

After the loss of her husband, the CEO said she was trying to figure out what she wanted to do with her life. When her sister asked her: "If you could lead any company in the country today, what company would it be?" Leondakis said she responded immediately with "CorePower Yoga."

Her sister then went on LinkedIn to find out who the current CEO was.

"I looked at his profile and said, 'Well, he's been there just a couple of years, and this is a great job, based on what he's done in his past. He's not going anywhere,'" Leondakis said. "And I didn't think another thing of it."

Sixty days later, in July of 2019, Leondakis said she got a call from a search firm asking if she was interested in the CEO position.

"I really, truly felt like it was a calling," Leondakis said. "The universe kind of punched me in the stomach a few times. I was struggling with that, but I felt like it was sending a bluebird my way."

CorePower Yoga's founder, Trevor Tice, wasn't the company's most recent CEO, but he passed away in 2016 from an accident. Leondakis said she felt a sense of purpose in joining the company and believed she had the skills to help build its brand.

"The company had its own tragedy, and I just felt like it was a calling for me to come lead this company into its next chapter," Leondakis said.

• Palantir CEO Alex Karp swears by a method that helps employees get to the root of a problem.
• Karp has said the Five Whys method "can often unravel the knots that hold organisations back."
• The approach is often credited to Taiichi Ohno, a Toyota executive during the 1970s.

Palantir's Alex Karp is not the typical tech CEO. It makes sense then that one of the big data company's foundational principles is rooted in the lessons of a 1970s Toyota executive.

Karp is a firm believer in the Five Whys, a simple system that aims to uncover the root cause of an issue that may not be immediately apparent. The process is straightforward. When an issue arises, someone asks, "Why?" Whatever the answer may be, they ask "why?" again and again until they have done so five times.

"We have found is that those who are willing to chase the causal thread, and really follow it where it leads, can often unravel the knots that hold organisations back," Karp and Nicholas Zamiska, Palantir's head of corporate affairs, wrote in "The Technological Republic: Hard Power, Soft Belief, and the Future of the West" which was published earlier this year.

During a recent interview, Karp pointed to his adherence to the approach as a potential reason that Peter Thiel, once his roommate, entrusted him to lead Palantir when they co-founded the software company in 2003 alongside Stephen Cohen, Joe Lonsdale, and Nathan Gettings. At the time, Karp was a Stanford law school grad who, instead of practicing, went on to pursue a Ph.D. in philosophy in Germany.

"The same things that made Peter the world's best value investor—he finds people that understand the sixth, seventh, eighth derivative of a problem in a business context. And we were friends. I do think there's a Germanic overlap, in our aptitude for understanding the consequences of a decision very far out," Karp told Wired in November.

Karp credits Taiichi Ohno, a senior executive at Toyota Motor Corporation, who wrote about about his management approaches for turning him onto the practice.

A 2012 article in the Issues in Information Systems journal praised the Five Whys approach, essentially labeling it Palantir's special sauce."

"To truly define values in the eyes of the customers, Palantir Technologies emphasizes the need to talk with customers throughout the development process, keep asking 'why?' but never ask 'why?' without implementing the answers, and be very disciplined at every step of the process," the authors wrote. "Their success in both the government and financial sectors began with the very first lean principle — identifying the values of customers."

Palantir's culture is almost as iconoclastic as its leader. Employees at the company, named for the magical seeing-stone in The Lord of the Rings, don't have formal titles — many employees report only to their teammates. Karp abhors higher-ed culture; there's even a video devoted to employees who dropped out of college to join Palantir.

Despite being a major defense contractor around the world, Karp recently said that non-US clients shouldn't expect to be wined and dined if they want access to Maven, Palantir's AI-powered platform for security and defense.

"We're not selling you sick dinner, we're not selling you our charm," he told podcaster Molly O'Shea while walking around the company's office.

The Five Whys approach seems to be working. Shares of Palantir are up over 100% year-to-date, and Karp's net worth is estimated to be roughly $15.7 billion.

Why not.