As A.I. reshapes how many luxury fashion houses operate, Chanel Global CEO Leena Nair is betting that the lasting competitive advantage will be something technology cannot replicate: human connection.

Nair’s people-first approach reflects three decades spent at Unilever, most recently as the consumer goods giant’s chief human resources officer. It also helped persuade Chanel’s chairman and co-owner, Alain Wertheimer, to recruit an executive with no previous fashion experience. After a nine-month courtship, Nair joined the privately held luxury house as global CEO in January 2022.

“I feel in a world of A.I., human sense, human experience [and] human relationships are going to matter more than ever,” Nair said during an onstage interview with Forbes Executive Vice President Moira Forbes at the Forbes Power Women’s Summit in New York on Sept. 10.

“For me, everything we do in A.I. is about enhancing human skills—relentlessly protecting that which is human, and prioritizing people in this journey,” she added.

That conviction has informed her management style. Nair said she set out to visit Chanel’s factories, meet employees and learn their names. “It’s really important to me. I would know not just about the names, I want to know who they are, what makes them passionate,” she said. “It’s really putting them at the center of my efforts. If you care about the people, they will care about the business.”

In April, Nair shared during an interview with Stanford’s View From the Top podcast that she’d met about 20,000 employees so far. Chanel employed about 38,000 people globally at the end of 2025, including about 700 artisans at its Paris-based le19M complex, according to company disclosure.

Raised in Kolhapur, India, Nair studied engineering in college and began her career as a management trainee at Hindustan Unilever in 1992. Her early career included factory and personnel roles in India. At a time when women were scarce in such roles, Nair became the first woman to work on a Hindustan Unilever factory floor and to work a night shift. She later moved through senior HR positions, becoming executive director of human resources at Hindustan Unilever in 2007 and taking on Unilever’s global senior vice president role for leadership and organization development in 2013.

In 2016, Nair became Unilever’s chief human resources officer (CHRO) and joined its executive leadership team. She was the company’s first woman and first Asian CHRO, and its youngest person to hold the position at 47. During her decade-long tenure, Unilever increased women’s representation in management from 38 percent in 2010 to 50 percent in 2020.

Under her leadership, women also dominate Chanel’s workforce. More than 76 of Chanel’s employees and 60 percent of the leadership are women, Nair said.

She also increased annual funding for Fondation Chanel, its independent charitable foundation focused on women and girls, to $100 million from $20 million. Chanel’s latest results say the company maintained a $125 million annual commitment to the foundation in 2025.

Last year, Chanel reported $19.3 billion in revenue and $4.7 billion in operating profit. When asked about reaching the younger generation of luxury consumers, Nair invoked industrial designer Dieter Rams’s maxim to “buy less, but better.” She said Gen Z already accounts for 30 percent of Chanel’s customers.

“I always say, buy beautiful things, but buy less of them,” Nair said. “Because I want this to be not just for the product, I want it to be about the memories you cherish.”

Chanel has faced scrutiny over the handling of unsold products. Recent litigation in Hong Kong alleged that the company had destroyed significant quantities of unsold luxury goods, though Chanel disputed that the figures reflected an outdated approach. The company has said that, under its sustainability commitments, unsold products are to be managed through recycling and circularity initiatives, including L’Atelier des Matières.

Last year, Chanel published its first climate plan, with a goal of reaching net-zero emissions across its value chain by 2040. Its rival, Kering, has a 2050 net-zero goal.

Last week, the annual Burning Man festival returned to Nevada’s Black Rock Desert, transforming the empty playa into a temporary metropolis of art and radical self-expression. This year’s theme was “Axis Mundi,” focusing on the concept of the world axis and the cosmic tree. Although identifying famous attendees has become more difficult as the event prioritizes privacy, it continues to draw intense media scrutiny, heightened this year by three confirmed deaths, which exceeded the festival’s average casualty of one death per year.

Burning Man is no stranger to disequilibrium. It has attracted both counterculture enthusiasts and some of the world’s wealthiest individuals, including Elon Musk, Mark Zuckerberg, Larry Page and Sergey Brin. What began four decades ago as a modest gathering on San Francisco’s Baker Beach has evolved into a global cultural movement guided by the 10 Principles, drafted by co-founder Larry Harvey in 2004: Radical Inclusion, Decommodification, Gifting, Radical Self-Reliance, Communal Effort, Radical Self-Expression, Civic Responsibility, Leaving No Trace, Participation and Immediacy.

These tenets foster an environment where money is secondary, participation is open to all, and gifts are shared freely without expectation of return. Simultaneously, the principles’ emphasis on experimentation, independence and creativity holds a distinct appeal for tech founders and investors.

For some billionaires, Burning Man offers an unusual social reset—a place where corporate titles and financial standing are not supposed to dictate one’s experience. In a blog post, Facebook and Asana co-founder Dustin Moskovitz recalled Mark Zuckerberg arriving by private helicopter in 2013, only to spend his time serving grilled cheese sandwiches to fellow Burners. OpenAI CEO Sam Altman, who once described himself as “super anti-Burning Man,” initially viewed the gathering as “a ridiculous escapism, crazy party.” However, after attending, his perspective shifted entirely. Speaking on an episode of the Life in Seven Songs podcast in 2024, he called Black Rock City “the most beautiful man-made thing I’ve ever seen” and admitted, “I was wrong to be so negative on Burning Man.”

“Burning Man isn’t about how much money or status someone has. It’s about showing up, bringing people together and participating,” Leslie Moyer, a spokesperson for the Burning Man Project, the nonprofit organizer of the annual festival, told Observer. “It’s less about asking people to set wealth aside, and more about inviting them into something no amount of money can purchase on its own,” she added.

Yet access itself can complicate the ideal of radical inclusion. Ticket prices for 2026 range from $550 to $3,000 plus fees, a stark departure from the original $25 price tag in 1992. Although a $250 Ticket Aid option exists alongside participant-sponsored tickets, the rising cost creates a high financial barrier to entry.

Wealth also shapes the on-playa experience once participants arrive. Elon Musk, an avid Burner, has been associated with lavish camp setups, including an eight-RV compound that was reportedly fully stocked and serviced by hired staff.

Recognizing this tension, the Burning Man Project has explicitly warned against “PAYticipation,” a trend that risks creating a class hierarchy where monetary contributions dictate a person’s worth. The nonprofit has also noted that simply funding a project does not make someone an active participant.

At the same time, core values like radical self-reliance, radical self-expression, communal effort and participation closely mirror the virtues celebrated in entrepreneurial culture: independence, experimentation, risk-taking and building from the ground up.

“A lot of people feel that major tech CEOs and leaders negatively impact everything,” three-time Burner Anthony Agrios, a designer and entrepreneur, told Observer. “But from what I’ve heard from people who have run into them at Burning Man, they’re just there to have a good time like everyone else.”

Burning Man’s unforgiving natural environment reinforces these ideals by demanding genuine self-reliance. With peak winds hitting 45 mph across barren desert terrain, participants must routinely repair damaged structures or shelter in place. In 2023, unpredictable weather turned extreme, with tens of thousands of attendees stranded by torrential mud and flooding.

“I definitely encountered some brutal dust storms. The wind can rip open the bottom of your tarp, which blows sand and dust into the Yurt,” Agrios said.

The remaining three principles—civic responsibility, leaving no trace and immediacy—extend the festival’s philosophy beyond individual expression. Participants are expected to actively contribute to the community’s well-being, clean up after themselves and engage directly with their present surroundings.

These ideals appeal strongly to wealthy entrepreneurs accustomed to solving complex problems through private initiative and resource deployment. However, they also prompt larger questions about whether individual accountability can fully offset systemic impacts.

For instance, the Burning Man Project seeks to address broader ecological concerns through its 2030 Environmental Sustainability Roadmap. Critics question whether restoring the desert floor adequately accounts for the heavy carbon footprint of transporting tens of thousands of people, constructing massive temporary facilities and burning extensive resources for a weeklong event.

Similar questions surround radical self-expression. While personal freedom is foundational to the event, expression does not exist in a vacuum devoid of consequences. According to reporting by Salon, 68 sexual assaults were reported at Black Rock City between 2002 and 2019. One survivor, Ena O’Daniel, said her repeated attempts to report an assault by an employee of United Site Services, an approved portable toilet vendor, went unanswered by the Burning Man Project. As of 2026, United Site Services remains an official vendor.

Ultimately, Burning Man’s 10 Principles may appeal to billionaires precisely because they offer what wealth cannot buy: an environment defined by shared participation, unpredictability and authentic human connection. The movement demonstrates the power of art, collaboration and community, even if only for a single week in the desert. As Agrios puts it, the experience is “absolutely soul-expanding.”

For 48 years, central bankers, academics and investors have gathered in the Rocky Mountains for the annual Jackson Hole Economic Policy Symposium. This year’s gathering in Northwest Wyoming is closely watched as Federal Reserve Chairman Kevin Warsh prepares to deliver his first Jackson Hole address after 65 consecutive months of inflation above the Fed’s 2 percent target. Yet, long before global financial leaders met to debate monetary policy, high-profile figures like President George H.W. Bush, Harrison Ford, and John D. Rockefeller Jr. helped put Jackson Hole on the map.

The symposium originated from a casual 1978 dinner conversation at Kansas City’s Crown Center among two American economists and government officials from Australia and New Zealand. Since then, it has evolved from analyzing agricultural policy to addressing global macroeconomic trends.

Each year, the host, the Federal Reserve Bank of Kansas City, sets a specific theme. This year’s topic, “Financial Innovation: Implications for Payments and Policy,” comes at a critical moment, as emerging payment systems like cryptocurrency continue to reshape financial markets and challenge existing regulatory frameworks.

The event moved from Kansas City to Jackson Hole in 1982 to accommodate then-Fed Chair Paul Volcker, an avid fly fisherman. That move was only possible thanks to John D. Rockefeller Jr., who covertly purchased and donated over 32,000 acres in the 1920s to help create Grand Teton National Park. The park eventually expanded to over 310,000 acres, encompassing mountain ranges, 200 miles of hiking trails, wildlife ecosystems and the long-time home of the symposium: Jackson Lake Lodge.

Going even further back, the region’s early footprint traces to pioneer Maggie Simpson. She settled in the area with her husband in 1893 and became postmaster, acquiring and parceling out 40 acres to help turn the small outpost into the town of Jackson. Her land established the community’s first hall, general store, hotel, stable and saloon, while her descendants later built the town’s first pharmacy and developed its initial city plan.

Encompassing seven towns across a 42-mile valley, Jackson Hole has hosted its share of notable moments. On June 13, 1989, President George H.W. Bush delivered a speech to 1,000 attendees laying the groundwork for his landmark 1990 Clean Air Act Amendments. In 1995, Bill and Hillary Clinton vacationed at Senator Jay Rockefeller’s local estate to escape Washington, D.C. The valley’s secluded mountain landscape has drawn not just political figures, but Hollywood stars like Julia Louis-Dreyfus, Sandra Bullock and Harrison Ford, who all purchased mountain retreats in the area.

Today, Jackson Hole also hosts annual art fairs, music festivals and traditions like Old West Days, a 10-day cultural celebration entering its 44th year. Tourism revenue has delivered local benefits beyond destination travel. Lodge taxes help fund public infrastructure, regional events and trailhead ambassador programs, while rising visitor counts have sparked community campaigns to preserve local wildlife and natural landscapes.

Against this peaceful mountain backdrop, the discussions inside Jackson Lake Lodge move global markets. In 2005—four years before the Great Recession—Raghuram Rajan, then chief economist of the International Monetary Fund, delivered a prescient paper titled “Has Financial Development Made the World Riskier?” He warned that, while financial innovation expanded the ability to share risk, it also heightened volatility, and urged central banks to use policy and market-friendly regulation to limit excessive risk-taking. Former Treasury Secretary Lawrence Summers dismissed the warning at the time as “largely misguided.”

During the virtual 2020 symposium, then-Fed Chair Jerome Powell unveiled a historic flexible inflation targeting framework, allowing inflation to run above 2 percent to support labor market recovery. Coupled with massive pandemic-era stimulus and severe supply chain shocks, consumer prices surged. The central bank formally abandoned that framework at last year’s gathering, signaling a return to traditional price-stability priorities.

While the Kansas City Fed does not formally track attendee demographics, representation at the symposium has gradually widened. Women made up an estimated 30 percent of attendees in 2022, a stark shift from the 1990s, when women “barely filled a table,” according to KPMG’s U.S. chief economist Diane Swonk. This broadening perspective matters at a summit where discussions shape real-world livelihoods. When Nobel laureate Claudia Goldin presented her 2025 paper “The Downside of Fertility,” it sparked intense debate on how policy should address falling birth rates.

Germany’s richest person is also one of its most elusive billionaires. Dieter Schwarz, the 86-year-old reclusive owner of discount supermarket giant Lidl and its parent company, Schwarz Group, has amassed an estimated fortune of $47.8 billion while maintaining an exceptionally low public profile. His business empire, which generates $215 billion in annual revenue, speaks volumes. Lidl belongs to a category of low-price retailers that have grown strongly in recent years as consumers contend with high inflation. Its success also reflects a decades-long story of entrepreneurship and generational transition. Schwarz transformed a regional food wholesaler into an international enterprise spanning retail, manufacturing, recycling and technology.

Lidl’s origins date to 1930, when Dieter’s father, Josef Schwarz, established the food wholesaler Lidl & Schwarz KG in Heilbronn, Germany. Dieter joined the business in the 1950s, and the pair opened the first Lidl store in 1973. After his father died, Schwarz took over as CEO in 1977 and quickly accelerated the company’s expansion. By the 1980s, Lidl had grown to 300 locations across Germany.

Today, Lidl and Kaufland operate 14,550 stores across 33 countries under the Schwarz Group. Schwarz launched Kaufland, a hypermarket concept that combines a supermarket and department store, in 1984. Lidl entered the U.S. in 2017 and now operates 200 stores along the East Coast. Its largest U.S. presence is in New York, followed closely by Virginia, home to the company’s American headquarters.

Schwarz remains the Schwarz Group’s owner and controlling shareholder, maintaining authority through the nonprofit Dieter Schwarz Stiftung, or Dieter Schwarz Foundation, which he founded in 1999.

He lives in Heilbronn with his wife of 50 years, Franziska Weipert Schwarz, and they have two daughters, Monika and Regine. Unlike at other prominent family-owned companies, such as Mars, succession planning at Schwarz Group does not explicitly involve Dieter Schwarz’s family members. Instead, the company appointed Gerd Chrzanowski as CEO in 2021 after he spent two decades at Lidl. He succeeded longtime CEO Klaus Gehrig, who left after 45 years with the company amid a disagreement with Schwarz, according to Grocery Dive.

With no LinkedIn, X or other social media presence, Schwarz remains almost entirely out of the public eye. Unlike many ultra-wealthy founders who have embraced personal branding, he rarely gives interviews or attends press events. He is not even mentioned on the “About Us” pages of the Schwarz Group and Lidl websites.

Still, his influence is felt throughout his hometown. German newspaper BW24 reports that Schwarz has invested heavily in Heilbronn, helping fund coding schools, a university serving 8,000 students and research laboratories.

Schwarz’s diversification strategy extends beyond simply adding businesses to the portfolio. The group has built infrastructure that supports its core retail operations, providing greater control over everything from production and packaging to waste management. PreZero, originally Lidl’s waste-logistics department, now operates 470 sites that sort, process and recycle materials, handling 26 million tons of recyclables to date.

Because most Lidl and Kaufland products are private-label goods manufactured in-house by Schwarz Produktion, the group can directly influence packaging standards and environmental impact. It has pledged to use 65 percent recycled material in private-label packaging by 2030 and achieve net-zero emissions by 2050. That focus may resonate with consumers: according to Shorr’s 2025 Sustainable Packaging Consumer Report, which surveyed 2,016 U.S. consumers, 90 percent said they are more likely to purchase from a brand or retailer if its packaging is eco-friendly.

Beyond retail, manufacturing and recycling, Schwarz Group has also built an IT and cloud-services division, Schwarz Digits, which has secured several high-profile technology partnerships. The unit generated $2.54 billion in fiscal 2025 revenue and has a long-term partnership with Google, as well as relationships with SAP, CrowdStrike and Salesforce. Schwarz Digits recently opened a new campus in Bad Friedrichshall, Germany, featuring green space, a daycare center, creative and meeting areas, and workspaces for 5,500 employees.

Schwarz also invests in tech startups. Most recently, Schwarz Group led a $600 million funding round in Canadian A.I. company Cohere. In 2023, the group participated in a $500 million Series B round for Aleph Alpha, one of Germany’s largest AI startups. Aleph Alpha was acquired by Cohere in April of this year.

Schwarz Group also recently submitted a bid tied to the European Commission’s $20 billion plan to build A.I. data centers. As Germany moves to quadruple A.I. data center capacity by 2030, an effort supported by a $4 billion investment from Microsoft, Schwarz is positioning his enterprises to benefit from growing demand for A.I. infrastructure and support services.

Correction: A previous version of this story contained an inaccurate image of Mr. Dieter Schwarz, the owner of Schwarz Group.