Reflections on Power, Business, and Control

I recently visited Japan, and after walking through the grandeur of Nijo Castle in Kyoto, I found myself thinking: Power is cyclical. The castle’s intricate wooden carvings, the golden tatami-floored chambers, and the fortified walls whisper a truth—nothing lasts forever, but those who build endure. Japan’s pre-war era was a case study in ambition, industry, and control. But it wasn’t just emperors and samurai who shaped its destiny. The Zaibatsu families—Japan’s business warlords—once held the real power, until they were reminded who was truly in charge.

The Rise and Fall of the Zaibatsu

The Zaibatsu (財閥) were industrial dynasties that didn’t just run companies; they ran the economy. The Mitsubishi, Mitsui, Sumitomo, and Yasuda families mastered leverage before it was a buzzword. They controlled banks, factories, mines, and shipping, compounding their influence across generations.

The Meiji era (1868-1912) was their launchpad. Japan needed industrialization, and these families stepped in—not just as businessmen, but as architects of empire. By the 1920s, they weren’t just rich; they were sovereigns within a sovereign. But unchecked power breeds government intervention. During WWII, their industries became war machines, and after Japan’s defeat, the U.S. forces didn’t just dismantle armies—they dismantled monopolies. The Zaibatsu were broken into smaller companies, later rebranded as Keiretsu—loose corporate alliances still controlling vast wealth, but without the family names attached.

Yet, even today, traces of their legacy remain. Walk through Tokyo’s Marunouchi business district, and you’ll find skyscrapers owned by Mitsubishi Estate. The banking giants Mitsui and Sumitomo still shape Japan’s financial system. The power never disappeared—it just adapted.

Jack Ma: The Modern Zaibatsu Warlord

Fast forward a century. Enter Jack Ma, China’s most famous entrepreneur, the closest thing to a Zaibatsu patriarch in the digital age. He built Alibaba into an e-commerce empire and Ant Group into a fintech revolution. For a while, he looked untouchable. Then he spoke out.

“Don’t play the game. Redefine the game.”

In 2020, Ma criticized China’s financial regulators, calling them archaic. Days later, Ant Group’s $37 billion IPO was canceled—the largest IPO in history, erased with a phone call. Then came the regulatory firestorm: a $2.8 billion antitrust fine, government-mandated restructuring, and a quiet disappearance from public life. When he reemerged, it was clear—he was no longer in charge.

But let’s be clear—Jack Ma didn’t lose because he was wrong. He lost because he forgot who controlled the rules.

China’s Struggle: Control Without Collapse

China needs its entrepreneurs, just like Japan needed its Zaibatsu. The CCP is playing a delicate game: allow growth, but maintain control. Kill innovation, and you kill the economy. Let it run wild, and you risk losing political dominance. So they tame, but don’t destroy.

“Societies that reward builders thrive. Societies that punish them stagnate.”

Unlike in the U.S., where billionaires can spar with regulators and still operate, in China, the Party is the final boss. You can create, but you can’t challenge. The government will allow billion-dollar businesses, but not billion-dollar power moves.

Yet, this creates a paradox: how do you maintain innovation when you also maintain fear? If every builder knows they will be cut down the moment they outgrow their lane, do they even try? The consequences of this play out in China’s slowing economic growth. People are watching, calculating. How much ambition is too much?

The U.S. and the Entrepreneurial Wildcard

This is where the U.S. plays a different game. The system is designed to allow power struggles, but it rarely outright eliminates players—because competition fuels the economy.

Enter Elon Musk.

If there’s anyone who understands how to challenge institutions without being entirely erased, it’s him. Tesla took on the auto industry. SpaceX disrupted NASA. Starlink bypasses traditional internet infrastructure. Neuralink is aiming for human-AI integration.

But even Musk has limits. He openly fights with regulators, defies government narratives, and pushes industries beyond their comfort zones. He plays the game brilliantly, but the game is always watching. Regulations, lawsuits, political pressure—these are the tools of control in the West. They may not disappear you overnight, but they will make your life difficult.

Conclusion: The Fine Line Between Power and Control

History rhymes. The Zaibatsu built Japan’s industrial empire, only to be dismantled when they became too powerful. Jack Ma built China’s digital empire, only to be silenced when he stepped out of line. Power is a loop—create, grow, challenge, get checked.

“The only way to stay free is to build. The only way to build is to stay free.”

I believe Elon Musk is walking this same tightrope. He defies regulators, shifts industries, and plays the game on his own terms. But power structures always push back. The question isn’t whether he’ll win—it’s how long he can keep playing before the referees change the rules.

The path of the entrepreneur is tedious, relentless, and uncertain, but for those who thrive on intellectual war, it’s the only game worth playing.

And the most important lesson? If you want to play, understand the rules. If you want to win, make your own.