Disneyland is a work of love. We didn't go into Disneyland just with the idea of making money.

When love comes first, profit follows

There's something almost naive-sounding about saying you built something massive without chasing profit as your first instinct. But that's exactly why Disneyland mattered—and why the places that feel most alive today are usually built by people who cared about the experience first. When you start by asking "what do people actually need to feel?" instead of "what can we charge for?" the money tends to follow anyway. The real problem is most businesses do it backwards.

This matters now because we're surrounded by products and places designed purely for extraction. Apps that deliberately make you feel bad so you'll spend more time there. Restaurants engineered for maximum table turnover instead of lingering. The difference is palpable the moment you walk into a space—you can feel whether someone genuinely wanted to create something worthwhile or just wanted your wallet.

The counterintuitive part: love as a business strategy actually works better than cynicism. It's harder because it requires patience and a real vision. But people recognize authenticity instantly. They return to places that were built with care, tell their friends, stay longer, spend more willingly. A work of love doesn't guarantee success, but a soulless transaction almost guarantees eventual failure.