Good Morning!

We start with a pattern that feels less like a market cycle and more like a system glitch: policy shifts send shockwaves through the economy, consumers scramble to react, and the data we’re supposed to trust only gets harder to read.

In just the last few days, Porsche cut its profit forecast as tariffs and sluggish EV demand squeezed margins. Economic reports are clouded by stockpiling and panic-buying, making “growth” look stronger on paper than it feels in reality. Temu shoppers are staring down 145% import fees, while Huawei races to build its own AI chip in a world where U.S. technology is increasingly out of reach. Prices are climbing, supply chains are shifting, and the signals we use to measure economic health are being shaped more by fear and politics than by fundamentals.

Which brings us to the castle gates—and one of the sharpest plays in modern business: how Disney turns stories into power. Because in a market where products fade, attention drifts, and hype cycles spin out fast and loud, Disney shows us what it takes to build something that lasts. This isn’t just about fairy tales or family films—it’s about how owning the right story, told the right way, becomes more than entertainment. It becomes leverage.

-JD

In partnership with Money Pickle

At Skool Projekt, we believe the real lessons—the ones that shape your future—aren’t always taught in school. Like how to manage money, build wealth, or make sense of an economy that doesn’t always play by the rules. A good financial advisor is part of that education. They’re not just picking stocks—they’re helping you make smarter, more informed choices about your money and your life.

From retirement plans to investment strategy, from tax decisions to big life transitions, the right advisor brings clarity where there’s usually confusion. Because when it comes to your financial future, guessing isn’t a strategy—it’s a gamble.

 Coming up in Thursday’s Edition:

We’re back with The Price of Perception—a look at how branding, storytelling, and good old-fashioned human bias shape what we believe something is worth, often more than the thing itself. This is part three of our ten-part series, Irrational Thinking in a Logical Economy. In a world where a plain white T-shirt can cost $10 or $300 depending on the logo, we’re asking: how much of “value” is just perception dressed up as fact? When narrative beats utility, the price tag starts to tell a story of its own.

The Logic (and Chaos) of Disney
by JD Washington

The Castle and the Fortress: How Disney Turns Stories into Power

When Walt Disney released Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs back in 1937, most people in Hollywood thought he’d lost his mind. A feature-length cartoon? No one would sit through that, they said. Too childish, too long, too risky. But audiences showed up, and not just because it was new—they showed up because the story worked. It was emotional. Memorable. The film didn’t just succeed; it rewrote the rules for what animation could be. But the real magic wasn’t just on the screen. It was in the business lesson hiding underneath: that well-told stories (especially the ones that tap into our emotions) aren’t just entertainment. They’re leverage.

Today, Disney is no longer just an animation studio. It’s a cultural heavyweight, a global operator that controls some of the most recognized characters, franchises, and media properties on the planet. The company owns Marvel, Star Wars, Pixar, National Geographic, and a significant chunk of Hulu. It runs sprawling theme parks on three continents, offers cruises and vacation packages, and commands eyeballs across Disney+, ESPN, and ABC. Disney doesn’t simply make movies or shows—it builds worlds. Worlds that loop back on themselves, where the film leads to the toy, the toy leads to the park, and the park leads to the next film. This isn’t coincidence. It’s a system; a deliberately engineered loop designed to keep you inside the castle gates.

Here’s the part that makes Disney worth studying: the company has mastered the art of acquiring not just companies, but feelings. Over the past two decades, Disney’s biggest moves have been less about creating new stories and more about buying the ones people already love. Think about the numbers for a second. $7.4 billion for Pixar. $4 billion for Marvel. Another $4 billion for Lucasfilm and the Star Wars universe. Then the behemoth: $71 billion for 21st Century Fox, a deal that brought Avatar, X-Men, and the bulk of Hulu into the fold. These acquisitions weren’t driven by the search for innovation. They were driven by the pursuit of ownership—of the stories that already live rent-free in your head.

What Disney understands better than almost anyone is that original ideas are risky, but nostalgia is a safe bet. When you own the stories that people grew up with, you don’t have to introduce yourself. You’re already on the guest list. So instead of gambling on the unfamiliar, Disney leans hard into the familiar. Another Marvel sequel? A Star Wars prequel? A live-action remake of an animated classic? The machine keeps running because the audience is already there, ready to pay for another ticket back to the world they know.

But it’s not just about the stories, it’s about the system that surrounds them. Disney doesn’t stop at the screen. It locks down the full experience. The movies feed the merchandise. The merchandise fuels the parks. The parks drive demand for content. And all of it loops back into Disney+, where the subscription keeps you plugged into the cycle. This is vertical integration at its most effective: the content, the delivery, the experience—all under one roof. Other studios make films. Disney builds pipelines.

The emotional glue holding all of this together is nostalgia. Psychologists call it the “reminiscence bump”, the window of time between childhood and early adulthood when our brains are most primed to form deep emotional memories. Disney knows this instinctively. Their remakes aren’t just about introducing a new generation to The Little Mermaid or Aladdin—they’re about giving parents a reason to feel something familiar while sharing it with their kids. You’re not just buying a movie ticket. You’re buying a memory—one you already had, repackaged and resold.

Of course, every magic kingdom has its politics. For all the fairy dust, Disney has seen its share of public battles: CEO showdowns between Bob Iger and Bob Chapek, labor disputes with writers and park employees, political clashes in Florida over corporate influence. The company sells happiness, but like any fortress, it’s built on layers of contracts, lawsuits, and strategic maneuvers. And yet, the glow of the brand rarely dims. Even when the headlines get ugly, the nostalgia still lands. The stories still pull us back in.

That’s the real genius of Disney. This was never just about fairy tales. It was never just about happy endings. It’s about control—about how power operates when the thing you sell isn’t a product, but a feeling. Disney doesn’t simply tell stories. It owns the narrative. And in an economy where culture is one of the most valuable currencies, that might be the sharpest strategy of all. 

A message from Projekts Workshop

At Projekts Workshop, we help brands find their voice, sharpen their story, and show up with purpose.

We design and run newsletter strategies that align your message, voice, and content—delivering consistent, audience-focused stories across email and social. And we build brand strategies that connect positioning, messaging, and visual identity into one cohesive, lasting story.

Whether you’re building, rebuilding, or growing, we’re here to help you do it with clarity, confidence, and consistency.