In Japan, the oldest continuously operating company was founded in 578 AD. Not a brewery, as you might assume, but a construction firm—Kongo Gumi. A family-run business that quietly endured for over 1,400 years. That fact alone should be enough to make any modern founder’s pitch deck feel... well, a bit flimsy.

I’ve had the good fortune to visit Japan a couple of times this year, and what struck me—what continues to hum in the background—is just how profoundly long-term the thinking is there. (Perhaps its because their life expectancy is so much greater than anywhere else.?) Meanwhile, the rest of the world spins madly on, caught in the dopamine loop of quarterly KPIs and launch-day hype. Frantic. (Read: stupid.)

 

That kind of patience, that generational thinking—it does come at a cost. Startup culture there is slow. Glacial. Difficult to crack open. But maybe that’s the point. Maybe that’s the feature, not the bug. Especially when you’re standing thousands of miles away from Trump’s trash fires or Elon’s latest ego trip.

And maybe—just maybe—we don’t need more stuff.

 

⏸️

 

Innovation has value. I’m grateful for it. The internet. Trains. Espresso machines. But let’s be honest: most new startups are indistinguishable from the last. We’re not innovating, we’re iterating. Slightly. Loudly. Endlessly.

I believe in learning, in exploration, in creative leaps. But copying? Copying isn’t growth. “Copy-paste” should be burned from the business lexicon. Expelled. Torched. Buried under six feet of original thought.

 

And please, spare me the “playbooks.”

Playbooks are for football teams. Or Silicon Valley VCs too afraid to trust their instincts or without instincts. 

 

Back in the 1900s, Europe had a kind of creative pride. Arrogant? Probably. But not entirely unjustified. There was a belief in quality. In originality. In taste. And they saw the rest of the world as imitators. Poor ones, mostly. That attitude wasn’t flattering, but it came with a higher bar—and we built accordingly.

I’ve never claimed to have founded WeTransfer. That credit belongs to Nalden and Bas. But I helped shape the conditions for creativity. I helped build the space where people felt something. A brand that didn’t scream, but quietly resonated.

 

Last year, the company was sold. That chapter is closed for me. I won’t pretend it didn’t sting. I’d hoped (dreamt is perhaps more appropriate) it might endure for 100 years—like Nintendo, Sony, Honda, Mitsubishi. Something bigger than file sharing. A brand that could stretch, evolve, surprise. But that’s no longer mine to decide.

 

What we built, I like to think of now as a ‘lowercase b’ brand.
Like Leica. A24. Names that live in culture. That matter to people who care. 

 

Not mainstream. Never wanted to be.
Happy being Björk. Never needed to be Beyoncé.

 

And no, we didn’t follow anyone’s playbook. We didn’t copy. We built from instinct. From taste. From feeling.
We just forgot to write it down back then. So we started 10 months ago and

some of those lessons made it into a playbook I co-wrote with Andreas Tzortzis.

 

The book is called Not A Playbook. Because it isn’t. It’s a document. A provocation. A reminder that you can build with intention. That originality still matters. That taste, still, matters. 

 

The book is out now and I hope there might be some lessons in there, we call it The homeopathic guide to marketing. The Art of Building a Brand. 

 

Alain de Botton had this to say about it: A fascinating, candid account by an entrepreneur who brings uncommon wisdom and profundity to the world of business.

 

If you buy a copy my share of proceeds goes to the Supporting Act Foundation. There are just 200 copies left. I hope you'll like it.

 

 ありがとうございます (Arigatou gozaimasu)

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✉️ This little piece of airmail is brought to you by Caro Carrowack.

A darkly humorous coming-of-age story exploring family dysfunction, self-discovery, and resilience. Out now, shipping as of next week Friday. You can buy one of the signed and numbered limited edition Japanese printed books now. Here.
 

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Legend:
🧁 = Light / Easy
🦪 = Dark / Challenging

 

🧁 MSCHF
Possibly the most brilliantly chaotic brand to hit the internet in a decade. Now with a book that tries (and fails, gloriously) to explain their weird, wonderful logic.

🦪 Bound For Glory
The story of Woody Guthrie—the man who inspired Dylan (Timothée’s version and the real one) and Bob Geldof’s Boomtown Rats.

🦪 Ghosts of Iron Mountain
Reads like dystopian fiction. Sadly, it’s not. A dark mirror to modern American life.

🧁 Strange Pictures
A murder mystery, told through images. Simple. Addictive.

 

🧁 David Dimbleby on Capitalism
Calm British voice explains capitalism. Somehow makes it sound both sensible and sinister.

 

No need to mention the obvious. White Lotus, Adolescence, Oscar stuff—you’re already watching.

But if you’ve got time for something darker, grittier, better...

 

🦪 Bring Them Down
Barry Keoghan, rural Ireland, stolen sheep, and a brutal meditation on masculinity and guilt.

🦪 The Beasts
Set in rural Galicia. A French couple vs. locals over a wind farm. Based on a real (and very grim) story.

🦪 Black Bag
Soderbergh does spies. Cate Blanchett and Michael Fassbender in a marriage of secrets, lies, and sleek espionage.

🧁 Kneecap
Foreign-language hip-hop comedy. Fassbender’s back, somehow. Belfast never looked so fun. If you're a fan you can download a manifesto here from WePresent.

 

🧁 Tang Shuo
A Chinese artist based in London. No description—just go feel it. Or don’t. That’s the point.

🧁 Ulali Imai 

A Japanese painter who makes the everyday feel uncanny. Think Snoopy, still life, soft edges, and existential undertones. Strange and soothing all at once.

 

That's it. Thanks for reading. I'll be back next week with another update from Japan. Any tips, suggestions or recommendations please email me.