In 2007, Nokia controlled more than 40 percent of the global mobile phone market. Their devices were everywhere. They were profitable, admired, and dominant.

But just six years later, Nokia sold its entire phone business to Microsoft for a fraction of its former value.

What makes Nokia’s collapse so painful is this: they saw the future coming.

In early 2019, WeWork was one of the most talked-about companies in the world.

It was valued at $47 billion. Investors lined up for an IPO that was imminent. It felt unstoppable.

And then it all came crashing down.

Within months, confidence evaporated, the narrative unraveled, and the valuation collapsed with stunning speed.

It launched with nearly $2 billion in funding. It was backed by some of the most powerful names in Hollywood and Silicon Valley.

And there’s a good chance you barely remember it.

That’s the first clue.

In just six months, the company burned through its capital and shut down, becoming the fastest $2 billion failure in entertainment history.

This is the story of Quibi.

It was marketed as the ultimate luxury music experience. Supermodels on yachts. Private jets. Tickets selling for thousands—some packages over $200,000.

But when guests arrived, the reality was a nightmare. A rainstorm had soaked the site. The "luxury villas" were actually disaster relief tents, and the mattresses inside were piled up, soaking wet. The gourmet meals were cheese sandwiches in Styrofoam boxes.

In April 1846, the Donner and Reed families set out for California with one north star: arrive safely before winter.

A clear, simple goal—one that required steady progress and smart decisions along the way. But when they started falling behind schedule, they reached for a shortcut. And that’s when everything began to unravel.

In 2013, Target stormed into Canada with the confidence you’d expect from one of America’s most beloved retailers. They opened more than 100 stores in a single year.

Canadians were eager. Surveys showed 52% were excited about the launch.

But when the doors opened, the dream collapsed. Shelves were half-empty. Prices felt higher than promised. On opening day, some stores even hung signs out front that read: "We're open (mostly)."

For eighteen months, Ford built the suspense.

The Edsel would be revolutionary—the car of the future. Dealers clamored for allocation. Customers waited to see what Ford had been hiding.

Then, in September 1957, the curtain lifted.

Within three years, the Edsel was dead, leaving losses that totaled more than $2 billion in today’s dollars.