Eliot Brown and Maureen Farrell – The Cult of We: Book Review & Audio Summary

Book Info

• Book name: The Cult of We: WeWork, Adam Neumann, and the Great Startup Delusion
• Author: Eliot Brown, Maureen Farrell
• Genre: Business & Economics
• Published Year: 2021
• Publisher: Crown Business
• Language: English

Audio Summary

Synopsis

The Cult of We chronicles the spectacular rise and catastrophic fall of WeWork, once valued at $47 billion. Wall Street Journal reporters Eliot Brown and Maureen Farrell expose how charismatic CEO Adam Neumann transformed a simple office-sharing company into a supposed tech unicorn, convincing the world’s savviest investors to pour billions into what was essentially a money-losing real estate operation. Through meticulous reporting, the authors reveal the cult of personality, reckless spending, and Silicon Valley delusion that allowed one of the most brazen corporate frauds in recent history to flourish—until it all came crashing down in 2019.

Key Takeaways

• Charisma and storytelling can sometimes matter more than actual business fundamentals in attracting venture capital investment
• Rebranding traditional businesses as “tech companies” became a strategy to achieve inflated valuations during the startup boom
• Even sophisticated investors can fall victim to groupthink and FOMO (fear of missing out) when everyone else is investing
• Corporate governance and oversight are essential safeguards that prevent founder excess and protect stakeholder interests
• The “founder worship” culture in Silicon Valley can enable destructive behavior when visionaries are given unchecked power

My Summary

From Brooklyn Rooftop to Billion-Dollar Delusion

I’ll be honest—when I first heard about WeWork’s implosion in 2019, I thought I understood the story. Charismatic founder, inflated valuation, spectacular crash. Simple, right? But after reading The Cult of We by Wall Street Journal reporters Eliot Brown and Maureen Farrell, I realized the WeWork saga is far more complex, disturbing, and frankly fascinating than I’d imagined.

This book reads like a thriller, except it’s all true. Brown and Farrell have crafted a meticulously researched account that goes beyond the headlines to reveal how Adam Neumann, a shirtless Israeli entrepreneur at a Brooklyn rooftop party, convinced some of the world’s most sophisticated investors to pour billions into what was essentially a real estate company losing money hand over fist.

What struck me most wasn’t just the scale of the deception—though a company valued at $47 billion that lost $1.6 billion annually is certainly noteworthy—but how many smart people willingly participated in the delusion. This isn’t just a story about one charismatic con man. It’s a cautionary tale about an entire ecosystem that had lost its grip on reality.

The Birth of a “Tech” Company That Wasn’t

The story begins in 2006 when architect Miguel McKelvey met Adam Neumann at that fateful rooftop party. Neumann, who was supposedly running a baby clothes business, was actually on a mission to get rich—by any means necessary. When the two launched their first venture, GreenDesk, in 2008, the concept was straightforward: rent office space, divide it up, and sublease it to small companies and entrepreneurs at a premium.

Nothing revolutionary there. But here’s where it gets interesting: Neumann understood something fundamental about the venture capital landscape that was emerging in the wake of the 2008 financial crisis. He recognized that “real estate company” wouldn’t open checkbooks, but “tech startup” absolutely would.

The rebranding was brilliant in its audacity. By 2010, when most venture capitalists had shifted from funding groundbreaking ideas to funding groundbreaking founders—people like Jeff Bezos or Steve Jobs—Neumann positioned himself as exactly that kind of visionary leader. He coined the phrase “space as a service,” deliberately echoing the “software as a service” model that was minting tech billionaires.

What really gets me is how effective this was. WeWork offered trendy furniture, glass walls, free beer on tap, and communal spaces. Neumann called it a “physical Facebook” with a mission to “create a world where people work to make a life, not just a living.” Suddenly, investors weren’t looking at occupancy rates and lease terms—they were imagining themselves funding the next transformative platform.

The Power of the Pitch Over Profit

One of the most jaw-dropping moments in the book comes early: before WeWork had a single customer, Neumann and McKelvey told real estate developer Joel Schreiber that their company was worth $45 million. Not only did Schreiber believe them, he didn’t even negotiate. He agreed to invest $15 million for a one-third stake.

This set the pattern for everything that followed. By 2012, the renowned venture capital firm Benchmark valued WeWork at $100 million—an extraordinary valuation for what was, at its core, a company that signed long-term leases and hoped to fill them with short-term tenants. The business model had obvious limitations: unlike software that can scale infinitely, physical office space is inherently constrained by, well, physics.

But Neumann’s presentations featured slides projecting revenue growth from $73 million in 2014 to $2.8 billion in 2018. The projections were ambitious to the point of fantasy, yet by mid-2012, WeWork had attracted $400 million in investment.

Reading this section, I kept thinking about my own experience in the startup world. I’ve sat through countless pitches, and I’ve seen how a compelling narrative can override rational analysis. But WeWork took this to an entirely different level. Neumann wasn’t just selling a vision—he was selling a religion, complete with its own mission, rituals, and true believers.

When Vision Becomes Delusion

Brown and Farrell excel at showing how Neumann’s charisma created a reality distortion field that affected everyone around him. The authors, both seasoned Wall Street Journal reporters who covered WeWork extensively before writing this book, bring an insider’s understanding of both the real estate and venture capital worlds. Their expertise shines through in how they decode the financial engineering and explain why supposedly sophisticated investors kept writing checks.

The book reveals a venture capital ecosystem that had fundamentally changed. In the past, VCs would invest smaller amounts, wait to see traction, and then decide whether to invest more. But by the 2010s, with interest rates near zero and traditional investments offering minimal returns, massive amounts of capital were chasing limited opportunities. The fear of missing out on “the next big thing” became overwhelming.

This created a perfect environment for someone like Neumann. He understood that in this new landscape, storytelling mattered more than unit economics. Growth mattered more than profitability. And founder vision mattered more than corporate governance.

What’s particularly chilling is how WeWork’s culture reflected Neumann’s personality. The company became famous for its parties, its beer-soaked events, and its “hustle” mentality. Employees worked grueling hours while Neumann accumulated multiple homes, a private jet, and even trademarked the word “We” and then sold it back to his own company for millions.

The Emperor’s New Office Space

The authors document how warning signs were everywhere, yet consistently ignored. WeWork was burning through cash at an alarming rate. Its business model—signing long-term leases while offering short-term flexibility to clients—was fundamentally risky, especially in an economic downturn. The company’s governance was abysmal, with Neumann holding super-voting shares that gave him complete control.

But perhaps most damning, WeWork wasn’t actually a tech company. It had no proprietary technology, no network effects, no scalability advantages. It was a real estate company with good marketing and expensive furniture.

I found myself getting frustrated reading about how many opportunities there were to pump the brakes. Investors like Benchmark, who had helped build companies like Uber and Twitter, surely understood the fundamentals of business valuation. SoftBank’s Masayoshi Son, who poured billions into WeWork through his Vision Fund, had decades of investing experience. How did they all get it so wrong?

Brown and Farrell’s answer is nuanced. It wasn’t just one factor, but a perfect storm: the founder worship culture in Silicon Valley, the abundance of cheap capital seeking returns, the fear of missing out on transformative companies, and yes, Neumann’s genuine charisma and salesmanship. When everyone around you is saying something is valuable, it becomes very difficult to be the one person saying the emperor has no clothes.

Applying These Lessons to Your Own Life

While most of us will never be in a position to invest billions in startups, the lessons from WeWork are surprisingly applicable to everyday decision-making:

Question the narrative. Whether you’re evaluating a job opportunity, considering an investment, or even choosing a service provider, look beyond the compelling story to the underlying fundamentals. Does the business model actually make sense? Are they solving a real problem in a sustainable way?

Beware of groupthink. When everyone agrees something is a good idea, that’s often the moment to step back and think critically. Some of my worst decisions have come from going along with consensus rather than trusting my own analysis.

Watch for red flags in leadership. Neumann’s behavior—the self-dealing, the lack of accountability, the cult of personality—should have been disqualifying. In your own career, pay attention to how leaders behave when they think no one’s watching. Do they follow the same rules as everyone else? Are they open to criticism and feedback?

Understand the difference between growth and value. WeWork grew rapidly, but it destroyed value with every new lease it signed. In your own finances or career, sustainable growth that creates real value is far better than unsustainable expansion that looks impressive but ultimately collapses.

Corporate governance matters. Whether you’re investing in stocks, joining a company, or even participating in a community organization, pay attention to governance structures. Are there checks and balances? Can leadership be held accountable? These aren’t boring details—they’re essential safeguards.

What Brown and Farrell Get Right (and Wrong)

The greatest strength of The Cult of We is its reporting. Brown and Farrell clearly conducted hundreds of interviews and reviewed mountains of documents. The level of detail is extraordinary—from boardroom conversations to Neumann’s personal real estate dealings to the internal culture at WeWork. They bring the story to life without sensationalizing it.

The authors also deserve credit for treating their subjects as complex human beings rather than cartoon villains. Neumann emerges as charismatic and visionary, but also reckless and self-serving. The investors aren’t portrayed as idiots, but as smart people who got caught up in a collective delusion. Even Miguel McKelvey, who often gets overlooked in WeWork coverage, receives nuanced treatment.

The book’s structure is also excellent, moving chronologically while building tension toward the inevitable collapse. Brown and Farrell know when to zoom in on specific anecdotes and when to pull back for broader analysis.

However, the book does have some limitations. While the authors excel at the “what” and “how” of WeWork’s rise and fall, they’re less successful at the “why” in a broader sense. What does WeWork tell us about capitalism, about regulation, about the tech industry’s role in society? The book hints at these larger questions but doesn’t fully engage with them.

Additionally, while the reporting on Neumann is exhaustive, some other key players—particularly at SoftBank and other major investors—remain somewhat opaque. I would have loved more insight into what Masayoshi Son was thinking as he poured billions into WeWork despite obvious red flags.

How This Compares to Other Business Cautionary Tales

Reading The Cult of We, I couldn’t help but think of other spectacular business failures I’ve read about. It shares DNA with John Carreyrou’s Bad Blood, the definitive account of Theranos’s fraud. Both stories feature charismatic founders who convinced smart investors to ignore fundamental problems. Both show how Silicon Valley’s “fake it till you make it” culture can enable genuine fraud.

But there’s a key difference: Elizabeth Holmes was lying about technology that didn’t exist. Neumann was exaggerating about a business that did exist—it just wasn’t nearly as valuable or transformative as he claimed. In some ways, that makes WeWork’s story more insidious. It’s easier to spot a complete fraud than to recognize when a real business is being wildly overvalued.

The book also reminded me of Michael Lewis’s The Big Short, which chronicled the 2008 financial crisis. Both stories show how groupthink and perverse incentives can create massive bubbles that everyone knows will eventually pop—but no one wants to be the first to leave the party.

What sets The Cult of We apart is its timeliness. This isn’t ancient history—it happened just a few years ago, and the venture capital ecosystem that enabled WeWork is still very much with us. That makes the book not just a historical account, but a warning about ongoing risks in how we fund and value companies.

The Uncomfortable Questions That Linger

Finishing this book left me with questions that I’m still wrestling with. Has anything really changed since WeWork’s collapse? We’ve seen other high-profile startup failures and revelations of fraud, yet the same dynamics persist. Companies still go public with no path to profitability. Founders still maintain iron-fisted control through super-voting shares. Investors still chase growth over fundamentals.

And here’s the really uncomfortable question: Was WeWork actually that different from other “unicorn” startups? Yes, it was more extreme, and Neumann was more brazen. But how many other highly valued startups are built on similar foundations of hype over substance? How many are one economic downturn away from their own reckoning?

I also wonder about the human cost that doesn’t get enough attention in the book. Thousands of WeWork employees lost their jobs when the company imploded. Small businesses that relied on WeWork spaces faced disruption. Meanwhile, Neumann walked away with hundreds of millions in his exit package. Is that justice? Is that capitalism working as intended?

Why This Book Matters Now More Than Ever

I started this review by saying I thought I understood the WeWork story before reading this book. I was wrong. The Cult of We is essential reading not just for anyone interested in business or startups, but for anyone trying to understand how our economy actually works in the 21st century.

Brown and Farrell have written a book that works on multiple levels. It’s a compelling narrative about a fascinating character. It’s a detailed case study in corporate governance failures. It’s an examination of venture capital culture. And it’s a warning about what happens when we collectively decide that belief matters more than reality.

The writing is accessible and engaging—you don’t need an MBA to follow along, though business readers will appreciate the depth of financial detail. The authors have a knack for explaining complex concepts clearly without dumbing them down.

What I appreciate most is that Brown and Farrell don’t preach. They present the facts, tell the story, and trust readers to draw their own conclusions. That said, the conclusions are pretty hard to avoid: We allowed this to happen. Not just the investors or the board members, but all of us who participated in the collective delusion that calling something “tech” makes it valuable regardless of fundamentals.

My Final Thoughts on a Modern Business Fable

I’ve been thinking a lot about why the WeWork story resonates so deeply. I think it’s because it confirms something many of us suspected but didn’t want to admit: that much of the startup boom of the 2010s was built on shaky foundations. That valuations were divorced from reality. That we were all participating in a kind of mass delusion.

But here’s what gives me hope: books like this exist. Brown and Farrell did the hard work of investigative journalism to uncover the truth and present it clearly. That matters. Accountability matters. Learning from mistakes matters.

Whether you’re an entrepreneur, an investor, an employee at a startup, or just someone trying to understand the business world, The Cult of We offers valuable insights. It’s a reminder that fundamentals still matter, that governance still matters, and that charisma without substance is ultimately hollow.

I’d love to hear your thoughts if you’ve read the book or followed the WeWork saga. Did you see the collapse coming? Do you think we’ve learned the right lessons? What other startups worry you? Drop a comment below and let’s discuss—because understanding how we got here is the first step to making sure we don’t end up here again.

Thanks for reading, and as always, happy reading from all of us at Books4soul.com. If you found this summary helpful, please share it with someone who might benefit from understanding one of the wildest business stories of our time.