In 2013, I banned PowerPoints, panels, and name tags. Here's what happened...

Brigadoon exists because I was frustrated spending too much time with the same people, thinking the same way.

So in 2013, I started something different.

I began gathering entrepreneurs and thought leaders from different industries, different geographies, different perspectives—united only by curiosity and a belief in the power of conversation. A venture capitalist sitting next to an architect. A tech founder learning from a doctor. A journalist trading insights with a retail executive.

Thirteen years later, it's become something larger than I imagined.

But the core remains: connect people who are shaping commerce and culture, create space for real dialogue, see what emerges.

Why Brigadoon works?

The magic happens when you remove people from their areas of expertise.

Put a successful founder in a room full of other successful founders, and you get pattern recognition. Everyone's solving similar problems, facing similar challenges, speaking similar languages. It's comfortable. It's validating. And it's limiting.

Put that same founder in conversation with someone who thinks completely differently, a designer, an athlete, a scientist, and something shifts. The questions change. The assumptions get challenged. The insights come from unexpected angles.

I've watched a private equity executive rethink his entire approach to talent after a dinner conversation with a cardiologist. I've seen a robotics founder completely reframe a product strategy based on insights from a restaurateur about how people move through spaces.

These aren't networking moments. They're perspective shifts.

What makes Brigadoon different is that I have broken every conference and curation rule.

No PowerPoints. If you can't have the conversation without slides, you're not ready to have the conversation.

No panels. No one is sitting on stage while everyone else passively watches. Everyone participates equally.

No name tags. Your title or organization doesn't matter here. Your ideas do.

No recordings. Brigadoon operates under the Chatham House Rule. So, you can share what you learned, but you can't attribute it. This simple agreement creates permission for radical honesty. People say what they actually think, not what they'd say if it might end up on LinkedIn.

Deliberately small. This Brigadoon gathering will have a max of 100 people. Not because I can't fill more seats, but because intimacy is the point. At 100 people, you can't hide in the crowd. You can't perform networking theater. You're actually there.

Cross-disciplinary by design. Brigadoon curates for diversity of perspective, not similarity of background. About the only thing everyone has in common is that they're all doing something meaningful in their field.

The format is simple. Three days at Sundance Mountain Resort with constantly burning fires, family-style dinners, mountain and wellness activities, and conversations that start at breakfast and continue through the evening. No agenda beyond creating conditions for connection.

Who attends?

Past attendees include VCs, founders, journalists, doctors, designers, attorneys, architects, lobbyists, diplomats, marketing strategists, and athletes, all united by the belief that engaging with different perspectives enhances your work and thinking.

Why Brigadoon matters?

We live in a moment of increasing specialization and tribal sorting. It's easier than ever to spend all your time with people who validate your existing worldview. To build networks of people who already agree with you.

That's why gatherings like Brigadoon are more critical than ever, offering a space to challenge your worldview and address complex problems beyond industry boundaries.

The problems worth solving—in business, in society, in your own work—don't respect industry boundaries. They require perspectives you don't have, questions you haven't asked, frameworks you haven't considered.

Brigadoon creates space for that.

I invite you to be part of this exclusive gathering at Sundance Mountain Resort on February 22-24, 2026, to connect with diverse thinkers and expand your perspective.

If you're building something meaningful and believe in the power of perspectives different from your own, I'd love to have you join us.

Brigadoon isn't for everyone.

It's intimate by design, cross-disciplinary by intention, and we maintain high standards for who participates, making you feel valued and respected.

More at www.brigadoon.live/utah.

—Marc


The Turkish football scandal isn't about football

Turkey's football gambling crisis is unprecedented. 300 players banned, entire leagues suspended, and 150 referees implicated. This looks like a sports story, but it is an economic story.

It's actually a case study in institutional collapse under economic pressure. When inflation erodes purchasing power and trust in institutions weakens, informal economies flourish. 

Turkish referees and lower-tier players weren't simply greedy. They were responding rationally to a cost-of-living crisis that made side income essential. The betting site at the center of the scandal, Misli, was itself a league sponsor controlled by associates of the football federation's former head.

This pattern extends beyond Turkey. 

MLB pitchers now face charges for pitch manipulation tied to sports betting. US prediction markets have seen sports contracts surge past political and financial categories. The common thread: legalized gambling creates systemic vulnerabilities in institutions already strained by economic and political pressures.

For global companies, the lesson isn't about sports integrity, it's about recognizing when economic stress transforms institutional risk. When employees, contractors, or partners face financial pressure in markets with weak governance, compliance frameworks built for stable conditions fail predictably.

Executives should audit exposure in markets where three factors converge: high inflation, weakened institutions, and newly legalized vice industries. 

The question isn't whether your sector faces gambling-specific risks. It's whether economic pressure is creating incentives for institutional participants to operate outside formal rules—and whether your compliance architecture can detect it before prosecutors do.

Moral crises are usually economic crises first.

—Marc

What happens when seven people gather with no agenda

Seven people.

One Scottish estate.

Zero PowerPoints.

Brigadoon Scotland concluded on Friday at Carphin House in Fife, and I spent the weekend in Edinburgh letting it all settle before flying home Sunday.

The mantra I used when curating this gathering was "Less logic. More magic."

And I can tell you from firsthand experience, there is a specific magic that happens when you gather the right people in the right place with no agenda beyond authentic conversation.

I've organized Brigadoon gatherings in different formats and sizes for years, and I'm still surprised by what emerges when you trust the format: no PowerPoints, no name tags, and Chatham House Rule.

People arrived as strangers and became friends.

They left noticeably smarter, myself included, all while sharing challenges and opportunities in a friendly and welcoming environment.

Getting out of your typical routine is key, even for just a few days.

A fire burning constantly.

Hikes that start the moment you walk out the front door.

The Scottish November light casting a glorious hue across the landscape.

Nooks for reading and strategic planning.

Chef-prepared meals that let someone else make decisions and pamper you.

Nightly conversations that stretched for hours because no one wanted to leave.

All Brigadoon gatherings operate under Chatham House Rule, so what was said and what was shared stays private, but the impact doesn't.

Everyone left different than they arrived, especially me.

Some call these multi-day Brigadoon gatherings anti-conferences, but nothing I have ever attended creates this quality of dialogue and connection.

Nothing else makes you noticeably smarter and more energized in just five days.

I'm already thinking about the next one, and I'm so excited.

-Marc