The many faces of Scooter Braun
The mega-manager who represents Bieber and Grande claims to be the nice guy in a bad business. But Taylor Swift isn’t the only one who has witnessed his dark side.
Scooter Braun and Kanye West’s relationship ended for a variety of reasons, as with many celebrity breakups.
West called Braun, his on-again, off-again manager, in December 2018. West needed assistance in closing a deal in which he would sell a portion of his now-billion-dollar footwear and apparel company, Yeezy, to a third party with manufacturing capabilities in China, according to a person familiar with the situation at the time.
However, after Braun flew out to meet West, the artist began to question his decision to sell. According to the source, Braun, who represents some of the world’s biggest artists such as Justin Bieber and Ariana Grande, told West that he didn’t have to proceed if he wasn’t comfortable. West stated that he did not “want to be scared” and signed the contract.
However, West appeared to change his mind a few hours later. According to the source, West confronted Braun in front of a crowd, yelling at him and accusing him of attempting to “trick” West and “take advantage of him by making him sign away Yeezy to someone else.” According to the source, he declared that all Braun wanted was his commission. Braun was “thoroughly insulted,” according to the source, and tore up the deal before it was given to the lawyers; the next day, he told West they should stop working together.
Others told a different story about Yeezy. Three people familiar with West’s point of view told Insider that Braun attempted to buy a stake in Yeezy about two years ago, around the time West was diagnosed with bipolar disorder. They claimed Braun “manipulated” West, with one describing the incident as the breaking point in their relationship.
“He talked the talk: ‘I care about Kanye, I would never take advantage,'” said a former associate. However, “Scooter’s most important client has always been Scooter.”
(Marty Singer, Braun’s attorney, stated that this was false and that Braun never invested in Yeezy or exploited West while he was in a state of diminished capacity. According to the former Yeezy associate, West had offered Braun large percentages of Yeezy several times, but Braun had always declined.)
What really happened between the mega-manager and the superstar is a Rorschach test. People in the entertainment industry have hidden motivations and competing loyalties, and they choose which stories to tell. West has also been open about his history with mental illness, which adds another layer of complication. (When reached by phone in early January, West asked, “Who are you to call the richest Black man ever out of the blue and ask me to give you information?”
Conversations with more than 50 entertainment insiders indicate that this is far from the only industry story involving two Scooter Brauns. The music manager, 40, is best known for discovering Justin Bieber and feuding with Taylor Swift. However, he has evolved from a well-paid celebrity babysitter to one of pop culture’s most powerful power brokers over the years. Last year, he struck a billion-dollar deal to sell Ithaca Holdings to the South Korean entertainment conglomerate Hybe. He’s gone to great lengths to establish himself as a good guy along the way: a family-oriented philanthropist with a strong moral code, known for guiding artists through difficult times. Many, however, believe that, far from being an outlier in an especially vile industry, Braun is one of its most ruthless players — a relentless egotist whose primary goal is to burnish his image and expand his empire. The majority requested that their names not be used for fear of retaliation, citing Braun’s litigious reputation. “I’ve never seen anyone burn so many bridges with so many people,” said one person with knowledge of Braun’s business dealings.
Depending on which Braun you know, the 2018 incident with West is either an example of a devoted manager going above and beyond for a struggling client, or a cautionary tale of a cutthroat operator preying on a vulnerable star. It’s either admirable or heinous. That’s how most people feel about Braun.
Braun was a trailblazer who used social media to turn his artists into global brand names long before it was an industry standard. His clients include Ariana Grande, one of the three most followed women on Instagram; J Balvin, who has the most monthly Spotify listeners of any Latin artist; and South Korean singer Psy, whose viral hit “Gangnam Style” became the first YouTube video ever to reach 1 billion views.
Scooter Braun, née Scott, began his entrepreneurial career as an Emory University student selling fake IDs before transitioning into party promotion. After dropping out of college, he quickly rose to prominence in Atlanta’s nightlife and hip-hop scenes, throwing parties for Ludacris, Eminem, and Britney Spears and driving around town in an eBay-purchased Mercedes with purple rims.
Braun “always seemed very in control,” according to Matt Graham, a college friend and fellow music manager. He recalls asking Braun, then 21, what his goals were, and Braun responding, “To build the next DreamWorks.”
SB Projects, Braun’s own talent management firm, was founded in 2007. He discovered Justin Bieber the following year after coming across a YouTube video of a 12-year-old Canadian boy performing at his local church. The video received approximately 60,000 views. Braun had long believed that developing young stars with a homegrown social-media audience could be profitable. He found Bieber’s school and called board members until he reached Bieber’s mother and convinced her and her son to fly to Atlanta.
“You put him in a room, and he just knows exactly what to do with you,” said Jason Salvador, an executive who worked at SB Projects in its early days. “He’s got guts. And he’s a tyrant. He was built for it.”
Braun carries himself with the ease of someone who has never sat anywhere other than courtside. He wears hoodies and baseball caps emblazoned with his and his clients’ various side hustles and has a smattering of well-groomed facial stubble. He speaks as if he’s always giving a TED talk, with candid riffs, long pauses, and carefully chosen moments of vulnerability that make him sound both unstudied and carefully rehearsed.
While other managers prefer to remain in the background, Braun has always sought the spotlight, according to multiple sources. In 2011, he played a prominent supporting role in Justin Bieber’s concert documentary “Justin Bieber: Never Say Never,” which went on to become one of the highest-grossing concert films of all time. Later that year, he celebrated his birthday with a star-studded bash at Hollywood’s Fonda Theatre, then known as the Music Box Theatre. According to a Los Angeles Times blog post, during the party, Bieber roast his manager with an impression of Braun negotiating a sequel to the film.
“My name has to be on the poster,” Bieber riffed to the crowd as Braun. (According to Singer, the Times mischaracterized Bieber’s joke and that “the joke was that my client wanted more money.”)
A newly rebellious Bieber became one of the world’s most controversial celebrities in his late teens. When a video of Bieber saying the N-word threatened to leak in 2011, the New Yorker reported that Braun successfully pleaded with TMZ boss Harvey Levin not to publish the tape (though it did eventually come out). In 2013 and 2014, it seemed like every week brought a new public-relations disaster: punching paparazzi, peeing in a bucket, desecrating national monuments, getting a DUI.
Faced with his star client’s implosion, Braun went to Herculean lengths to save Bieber’s reputation and get his career back on track. Years later, Braun told The Wall Street Journal that things were “worse than people realized,” and that he was concerned that Bieber, who was using drugs at the time, would die of an overdose in his sleep.
According to six media insiders, Braun became known for his cozy relationships with editors and journalists across the industry. According to one person, the attitude at one major entertainment outlet was “we don’t speak badly” about Braun and his clients. When industry squabbles arose, “he’d be the first person to call up in order to advance his agenda,” another said.
“A lot of other managers would compartmentalize and let the publicist handle it, but he was there in the thick of it all,” gossip blogger Perez Hilton explained.
While all managers get their hands dirty to protect their clients, some in Braun’s circle were concerned that Braun might go too far. Lil Twist, a close friend of Bieber’s during his wild years, has stated on a 2020 podcast that he became a regular scapegoat for the superstar’s misbehavior, taking the fall for a marijuana-possession charge.
Lil Twist told Insider that he believed Braun planted negative stories about him to divert attention away from Bieber. According to one 2013 TMZ story that included photos of Bieber smoking weed in a hotel room, “Bieb’s people are blaming his Black friend Lil Twist for his bad behavior,” while another story said sources close to Bieber were “deeply concerned that Twist has become a powerful negative influence in his life.”
“He made sure he did everything to protect Justin, and he did his job, but he did it wrong,” Lil Twist said, “in ways of hurting other people to get things done, and it wasn’t right.”
Singer, Braun’s lawyer, denied that his client ever planted negative stories about Lil Twist. He also referred to Lil Twist as a “demonstrably unreliable source” due to his criminal record, and he provided links to 13 negative articles about him in outlets such as Page Six and TMZ.
Would Braun go to any length to protect Bieber’s reputation? Of course, and it’s part of what made him such a good manager, according to several people. “That was almost like his son,” Salvador remarked.
According to sources, Braun appeared to be involved in nearly every aspect of the star’s life, including his on-again, off-again relationship with singer Selena Gomez. Over time, “definitely got to be bad blood between the two camps,” an individual familiar with Gomez and Braun’s dynamic said.
According to one source familiar with the situation, Gomez’s best friend, Taylor Swift, was outraged by the way Braun handled aspects of Bieber and Gomez’s relationship. According to the source, this was one of the reasons Swift went after Braun so hard after he bought her master’s degree in 2019.
Singer called Swift’s claim “ridiculous,” adding that Braun “continues to have a very good relationship with Selena.” He mentioned Braun and Swift “dancing together in Taylor’s photo booth at a private Billboard afterparty in recent years.” (The party was held in 2015.)
“If Scooter is trying to insinuate they were friends, it would have been the ‘friendly’ thing to do to ask her if she was OK with him buying her entire life’s work out from under her,” a source close to Swift said. “He didn’t do it. Obviously, any photos taken with him were taken before Taylor learned all the details and the full scope of what had occurred.”
Braun has always moved quickly, as if he was trying to prove something. Despite growing up in Greenwich, Connecticut, “he works like he’s broke,” Salvador said. Braun has stated that his grandparents’ experiences in the Holocaust had a significant impact on his worldview — the belief that he could lose everything at any time.
One applicant for Braun’s assistant position in 2012 described meeting Braun in a hotel lobby for the interview. “He was like, ‘We need to go to “The View” right now — my client’s on the show.’ So we literally just hopped in an Escalade and started driving.” Braun had only begun to question her when his phone rang. He answered the phone and began speaking. When a second call arrived, he placed the first caller on hold. The phone then rang again. He took another phone from his pocket and handed it to the interviewee to answer for him. “It was like, whoah, there’s a lot going on here,” she said. (She did not get the job).
Braun was a natural at building relationships from the beginning, and he has amassed a slew of devoted followers. Friends told Insider stories about him comforting dying relatives and buying groceries for a family whose father was arrested by US Immigration and Customs Enforcement. One industry veteran recalled a young Braun approaching him in an office lobby and reciting from memory a string of obscure facts about the person’s career. “I remember saying that kid’s got the juice, the power, and he’s going to make it,” the source said. “He possessed all of the characteristics of a successful musician.”
Braun gradually began to accept large investments from private-equity firms in order to monetize his talent-management empire, transforming SB Projects from a boutique firm to a major enterprise. However, as his roster grew, some artists felt neglected, according to multiple sources. “I think a lot of people see the management relationship as an artist-development process,” a publicist in the industry said. Braun, on the other hand, has “always been treating it as an investment portfolio.” According to Singer, Braun “never lost or dropped an artist until they had spent a significant amount of time, incurred substantial losses, and he and the artist felt there was nothing more they could do together.”
As the rising manager continued to scout young talent online, he found it difficult to replicate his success with Bieber. When Madison Beer was 13, Braun signed her after Bieber shared a YouTube video of her singing an Etta James cover. The label tried to position her as a “very pop, very Disney queen,” she later revealed to NME magazine. A year later, with a few singles under her belt, a boy she had previously dated began circulating naked photos of a 14-year-old Beer online.
Beer’s experience was harrowing, and she later revealed on Twitter that it left her with years of anxiety, trauma, and shame. After the photos went viral, the two continued to collaborate for about two years, but a source close to the project said Braun seemed to lose interest in developing Beer’s career once the images went viral. “As soon as something bad happened, he jumped ship,” according to the source. “He needed to keep his attention on Justin.” According to Singer, this is false, and Beer texted Braun about three years ago to thank him for his advice and “for always caring” about her.
Signing with Braun felt like a golden ticket to stardom for many artists. As a result, when things didn’t go as planned, it hurt even more. When Braun became Todrick Hall’s manager in 2013, Hall was overjoyed; after watching “Never Say Never,” Hall had written “find my Scooter” on his vision board, according to a person familiar with Hall. However, their relationship quickly became strained, with Hall believing Braun was not taking his career seriously, according to two people familiar with the dynamic. Singer denied this, claiming that Braun landed Hall an MTV show in 2015 through his network connections. Singer also cited Hall’s friendship with Swift — he tweeted in support of her during the masters dispute — as “serious allegations that bear on his veracity and trustworthiness.”
Hall self-funded his YouTube visual album “Straight Outta Oz,” a “Wizard of Oz”-inspired musical about his life, in 2016. The Wizard, the man behind the curtain who is not who he claims to be, was inspired by Braun. (In one scene, the wizard, played by Joseph Gordon-Levitt, rides in on a scooter with a monkey on his shoulder, a not-so-subtle nod to Braun.)
Braun, who was still Hall’s manager at the time, became enraged when he learned the details, according to three people familiar with the project. According to one source, Braun threatened to remove Hall’s YouTube channel if he didn’t remove the unflattering references to him (Singer denied this). According to three sources, Braun also demanded that Hall list him as executive producer despite the fact that he was not involved with the visual album. Hall refused to remove all references to Scooter, and the two are no longer working together. “It’s all about control, controlling everyone’s image and narrative,” one of the participants explained.
Hall is one of the few former SB clients who has spoken out publicly about his negative experiences with Braun. According to Singer, Hall “is a disgruntled former client of Mr. Braun’s with significant animosity against him.”
While some of Braun’s clients remained anonymous, others reaped the benefits of his Midas touch. Braun was at the top of the call list for artists in troubled waters after his stunning redemption of Bieber in 2015. People go to Scooter “when they want the Super Mario boost,” according to one industry insider.
Braun was adept at turning his clients’ personal difficulties into marketing gold. Ariana Grande met “Saturday Night Live” star Pete Davidson through Braun, and their quick engagement sparked a tabloid frenzy. Grande debuted a new song, “Thank U Next,” a month after they split up, in which she sang about the many things she had learned about herself from her ex-boyfriends, including Davidson. Within 24 hours, the music video — which included a cameo from Kris Jenner and a subtle reference to Davidson’s “big-dick energy” — had become the most watched music video debut in YouTube history. According to a source close to the situation, Davidson was “surprised” by the release. “I think their relationship didn’t get a fair shake because management was so involved.”
Braun has also become well-versed in the language of trauma, mental health, and recovery over the years, executive producing a series of documentaries about the harrowing psychological toll of celebrity. Braun frequently portrayed himself in these stories as a steadfast mentor with an unquestionable moral compass. In the 2020 documentary “The Boy from Medelln,” Latin superstar J Balvin struggles with whether to take a political stance on Colombian youth protests. Braun appears in Colombia, deus ex machina in a black baseball cap, just before the moment of truth, and persuades his distraught star to do the right thing. “You’re here because of those kids,” said Braun. “Having a platform that can inspire people all over the world comes with a responsibility.”
Last year, YouTube released “Dancing with the Devil,” a documentary produced by Braun for his new client Demi Lovato. Lovato, whose pronouns are they/them, shared graphic details about their near-fatal overdose in 2018 for the first time in the film. The documentary, which received tens of millions of views, allowed Braun to recast himself as a savior. Lovato stated in the film that they sought out Braun specifically because he made them feel safe. As melancholy piano music played, Braun, dressed in a black T-shirt and cap, said he was going to decline Lovato as a client but knew he had to say yes once the singer began pouring out their “heart and soul.””Lovato didn’t need a manager,” he mused; Lovato just needed a friend.
The film suggested that Lovato had finally turned a corner, thanks in large part to Braun’s management. In the documentary, Lovato spoke confidently about their decision to continue using marijuana and alcohol in moderation. Braun took a more measured approach, saying that while he did not “truly” agree with their approach, all he could do was “be a friend” and hope they were correct.
Less than a year later, Lovato resigned, claiming that “sober sober is the only way to be.” According to Page Six, they recently returned from another stint in rehab. While change and setbacks are natural parts of the process, two people who knew Lovato wondered if it was too soon to wrap their story in such a neat cinematic bow. “I don’t think the film should have been made yet,” said one close friend of Lovato. “There was more healing that needed to be done.”
“His docs are always about this redemption narrative, like, ‘This is me and this is what I went through, and now I’m great,’ and everyone eats it up,” said another Lovato associate. The film “screams Scooter Braun production,” rather than being an honest reflection of reality, according to the associate. “It’s too storyboarded and meticulously crafted, and nothing about it is authentic.”
According to Singer, Braun “did not even see the final cut until the day before it came out.”
Braun was carefully crafting his own legacy while shepherding stars like Bieber and Grande to the top of the charts. He married Yael Cohen, an elegant mining heiress he met after watching her TEDx talk about establishing a cancer charity, in 2014. They had three children. Braun stated in a podcast interview that his goal is to change the music industry so that “when people come to the business and say who’s the baddest dude here, they see someone who is family first.” Braun’s Instagram was peppered with inspirational quotes from Marcus Aurelius and Maya Angelou in between sun-kissed family beach snaps and workout videos.
Braun has frequently stated that David Geffen is his idol, and the two have developed a friendship over the years. (Instagram and paparazzi photos show Braun on Geffen’s yacht with Amazon founder Jeff Bezos and SB client and former Swift BFF Karlie Kloss). Braun told The New Yorker in 2012 that Geffen advised him to “get out of the music business.” Braun has followed his advice, speeding through the mogul playbook and increasing his net worth with a sizable investment portfolio that includes bets on Uber and Spotify.
Braun has worked hard to prioritize the growth of his investment firm Ithaca Holdings, the inner workings of which he has always kept private. Anyone who examines the names of Braun’s numerous corporate holdings will notice a preoccupation with classical mythology. Ithaca is named after the mythical homeland of the hero Odysseus in Homer’s “Odyssey,” he has a film studio called Mythos, and a common business catchphrase is “burn the ships,” a euphemism for going all in on a project based on how the ancient Greeks set fire to their own ships when arriving on enemy shores. Ithaca, which was founded in 2012, grew to include SB Projects, the venture capital firm TQ Ventures, and the publishing company Atlas, as well as acquisitions such as Swift’s former label, Big Machine.
“The most important parts of my business are not publicly available,” Braun told The Wall Street Journal. “Perhaps I’ll tell you everything when I’m 50 or 60.”
Braun has positioned himself as a philanthropic and magnanimous man of the world as his fortune has grown, hosting fundraisers for Hillary Clinton and Kamala Harris and rallying around causes such as gun control. Articles began to circulate claiming that top Democrats wanted Braun to run for office in California. “I’m thinking about getting more involved with our leadership,” he said to CBS in 2017.
“It’s really important to him to be seen as a good guy,” a journalist who has covered Braun and dealt with him directly said.
In 2017, two weeks after a terrorist attack at Grande’s concert killed 22 people, Braun took the lead in organizing and promoting Grande’s One Love Manchester benefit concert, coming out personally to introduce Grande and tell the crowd of more than 50,000 that “hatred will never win” and “fear will never divide us.”
Some claimed that behind the scenes, Braun bore less and less resemblance to his nice-guy persona. “Other managers have public personas that are directly related to how they behave.” They’re known as tough guys on behalf of their clients, and they’ll say things like, ‘I’m a motherfucker, but I’m this way because that’s my job,'” an entertainment insider explained. “That’s an open secret in the industry about Scooter.” He personifies hypocrisy at its pinnacle.”
According to multiple industry peers, managers who have dealt with Braun have left the experience feeling burned.
Braun began managing Grande’s music career in 2013, when she was a fresh-faced Nickelodeon star, with the intention of working alongside her two existing managers, Stephanie Simon and Jennifer Merlino at Untitled Entertainment. Grande fired Braun in February 2016, only to re-sign with him seven months later. Later, in interviews, he blamed her departure on “shitty boyfriends.”
When she returned, Braun was her sole manager. “I don’t think he liked having other people in the mix,” a former Grande employee said. While management changes are common in the industry, three witnesses said this transition was particularly tense. According to a former Untitled employee, Braun came into the office several times to meet with Merlino and Simon, and relations deteriorated. The former employee stated that Merlino and Simon “were really just fighting for any semblance of a good deal at the end,” noting that the two women couldn’t speak about the situation due to nondisclosure agreements. “It felt like I was losing a child.”
“Ariana Grande entered into a settlement with Ms. Simon and Ms. Merlino, which my client was not involved in and had nothing to do with,” Singer explained.
Braun’s relationships with other industry executives deteriorated over time. In 2013, he proposed forming an artist-management coalition with other top music executives, including his friends Brandon Creed (who managed Bruno Mars) and Troy Carter (Lady Gaga). However, things began to fall apart after both Creed and Carter separated from their biggest stars. According to witnesses, Braun turned on his former friends after they lost their major moneymakers, eventually taking Carter to court over what Braun described as a failed loan repayment (at the time, Carter claimed he had “never borrowed a dime” from Braun and the dispute was instead over the price at which he would repurchase his business from Braun). Despite the fact that Braun orchestrated the deal and persuaded Creed and Carter to join, “all of the blame got pointed outwards towards them,” according to a source familiar with the situation. Braun and Carter settled quietly in 2019.
According to sources, Carter and Creed are still shaken by their time working with Braun. “He uses the word business when it suits him, and he uses the words ‘we’re friends or family’ when it suits his needs,” a source close to the situation said.
Meanwhile, Singer pointed out that Braun was the one who sued Carter. He also stated that Braun currently has “a great relationship” with both Carter and Creed, noting that Braun and Carter marched together in 2020 to honor George Floyd.
Braun’s supporters argue that his detractors are simply jealous of his quick and unconventional rise to success. His glow “makes everybody that’s a little bit dimmer around him invisible,” which is difficult for people to accept, “especially when they were previously the biggest lights in the room,” according to his friend Matt Graham. He has “an almost blinding optimism about him that anything is possible,” he says.
It wouldn’t be a big deal for Braun to accept his role as a jerk. The music business is notoriously ruthless, with a long history of glamorizing tough guys who get the job done, and there’s a reason the pugilistic manager trope has such a long legacy.
“That’s the dirty part of being a manager — you’re always kind of the bad guy,” said Moe Shalizi, a friend of Braun’s who manages top DJs like Marshmello and Alesso.
But Braun wants to be liked more than he wants to be successful. This preoccupation with appearances aided him in his success as a manager of the world’s most scrutinized celebrities. It has also left his colleagues perplexed. After all, who cares what other people think of you when you have all the money and power in the world?
Insider witnessed firsthand the lengths Braun would go to maintain his public image while reporting this story. Braun declined to comment on the record, but Insider received multiple threatening letters from Braun’s Hollywood attorney, Singer, who is known for his fiery missives to journalists. Insider’s reporting, according to Singer, was an attempt to “distort” Braun’s “hard work, dedication, and success into a defamatory smear.” Singer later wrote a letter suggesting I had “deep ties to the Taylor Swift camp,” noting that I had written “approximately 15 positive stories” about Taylor Swift in my career, after combing through years of my personal social-media posts as well as articles I had written as a culture writer for New York magazine. Singer also claimed falsely that I was once invited to a Taylor Swift listening party.
Scooter Braun’s aggressive approach to reputation management has long been part of his playbook, but it may not be working as well as it once did. “I don’t think you can play the nice guy on social media while being one of the most cutthroat people in the business,” one industry insider said. “This is a very small company.” You simply run out of people to swindle.”
Despite the fact that music industry insiders witnessed Braun’s scorched-earth tactics firsthand, his public reputation remained largely unblemished until 2019, when he battled Taylor Swift. For the first time, he faced an opponent who had a firmer grip on her own image than he did on his own.
Braun purchased the country label Big Machine in 2019, giving him control of Swift’s first six albums’ master recordings. She was enraged. Despite Braun’s years of expert client management, he somehow underestimated Swift’s hatred for him — or the frenzy she’d incite by directly addressing her devoted fan base.
Swift blasted his acquisition as the “worst-case scenario” for her music, accusing him of “constant, manipulative bullying” of her over the years. Swift’s fans have been a thorn in his side since, even sending death threats to him and his family. Following that, Braun pleaded with him and Swift to “come together and try to find a resolution,” but it was in vain. Swift began releasing rerecordings of her old albums last year, dubbed “Taylor’s Version,” with the intention of undermining the value of her original catalog. According to Financial Times sources, Braun, who sold Taylor Swift’s masters to private equity firm Shamrock in 2020, warned prospective investors that Swift might not follow through on her threats to rerecord. (According to Singer, the Financial Times’ reporting was “untrue.”)
According to those close to Braun, being portrayed as an industry villain was difficult for him. When asked about his political ambitions, he stated that while he had considered running for office in the past, it was no longer in the cards. “Recently, I was attacked very publicly by someone I don’t know, by someone who refused to have a conversation with me,” he told British GQ in 2020. “What it did teach me was that if my children had been teenagers or a little older, this could have been very difficult for them.” And I’m not sure I’d be comfortable in public office given the amount of ridicule and exposure you get.”
Braun announced in 2021 that he had sold Ithaca to Hybe, the South Korean entertainment conglomerate behind the boy band BTS, for more than $1 billion. According to a financial audit performed by PricewaterhouseCoopers and listed in public financial filings in Korea, Ithaca’s total revenue in 2020 was just under $132 million. The purchase price was nearly ten times the company’s revenue, which is typical of fast-growing technology startups.
It remains to be seen whether Braun’s company will be worth the high price tag, but if his goal was to become David Geffen, this appeared to be a step in the right direction. The sale allowed him to shake off the drama with Swift and focus on new opportunities. (The Carlyle Group, whose name Swift had dragged through the muck, sold its stake in Ithaca.)
However, Braun’s reputation suffered further damage behind the scenes of the multibillion-dollar acquisition. Following Swiftgate, he became public enemy number one in many digital fan communities, with many repeating the refrain “the devil works hard, but Scooter Braun works harder.”
Braun and a former business associate, Peter Comisar, filed competing legal complaints against each other in June. Comisar claimed in his $200 million lawsuit that Braun breached his commitment to fund a private-equity fund that he had hired Comisar to manage. He claims that when Braun “abandoned” the project in 2018, the music manager warned Comisar not to sue and threatened a “smear campaign” against him. Soon after, Braun “co-opted the founder and CEO” of another company to falsely accuse Comisar of racism, according to the complaint (this was called “absurd and fictional” by Singer).
Braun’s arbitration petition, filed hours earlier the same day, stated that he was seeking judicial intervention to stop Comisar’s “unlawful, extortionate, and opportunistic threats against him.” It portrayed Comisar as a “unscrupulous former business associate” looking for a “further unearned and undeserved payday” and described Comisar as a “complete failure” who was unable to raise the expected investor funds.
While Comisar preferred a public court battle, Braun preferred private arbitration. “Comisar’s threat to file the draft complaint in court was an obvious ploy to attempt to publicly smear Braun’s reputation,” according to the complaint. The judge ordered that the proceedings be held behind closed doors in September.
Braun’s client relationships have also suffered. Braun abruptly lost The Kid Laroi, a new star client whose duet with Bieber was the biggest song in the world at the time, in September. “It’s humiliating. “You don’t lose Kid Laroi,” said a music industry insider.
Braun and his wife divorced last summer amid rumors of an affair with “Real Housewives of Beverly Hills” star Erika Jayne (which she denied on the show). Braun had only seen Jayne “once in his life, at a political event they both attended; they do not know each other,” Singer told Insider. Multiple sources told Insider that Braun’s relationship had been on the rocks for some time, and that journalists had been calling around asking questions.
Braun took “a leave to address his personal life” when he was having marital problems, according to Singer, and left others to handle matters on his behalf. One artist Braun signed in 2020 felt abandoned during this time, according to a person who worked with them. According to the source, Braun initially told the singer, “Call me anytime, I’ll always be there for you, I will fight for you, and I will use all my power for you,” but the artist never heard from Braun directly again during the year they were signed to SB Projects.
Even as his marriage crumbled, Braun did everything he could to maintain the picture-perfect domestic idyll he had created online. On July 10, news of his and his wife’s divorce broke. Braun had only four days before posted a photo of them dancing at their wedding and wished his wife a happy anniversary. “The adventure is only just beginning,” he wrote.
People who have dealt with Braun in recent years describe him as a man consumed by his own larger-than-life vision of himself, chasing money and power so far down the road that he lost sight of everything else.
“People with the most severe addiction problems will never understand just how absurdly powerful an addiction to fame and power is,” a source close to Braun said. “It’s the most wicked, evil, and disastrous addiction you can imagine.” You have the freedom to do whatever you want, whenever you want. And once you have that kind of power, it’s nearly impossible to give it up.”
Braun is fighting to regain the public’s trust, just as he has done for his artists. He’s been laying the groundwork for his own image makeover for quite some time. He did an hour-long podcast with life coach and former Hindu monk Jay Shetty in June, just a few weeks before the divorce announcement. Later, he sat for a glowing profile in Gentleman’s Journal, with the subtitle “this year, perhaps, Scooter Braun’s most ambitious project has been himself” These interviews portrayed Braun as a flawed but sympathetic figure, aware of his flaws, admitting his mistakes, and striving for self-improvement. He never quite explains what those errors were.
During the interview with Shetty, which touched on reincarnation, inherited trauma, privilege, and psychic wounds, Braun revealed that he checked himself into the weeklong Hoffman Process, a “transformational week-long healing retreat” popular among celebrities in crisis, after having some of his “darkest thoughts” in his life. “It was just feeling like I wasn’t present in my life and [feeling] like the people who loved me were hurting.” “And I couldn’t fix it, and I’m a fixer, and because I couldn’t fix things, I spiraled,” Braun explained to Shetty. “I’d been playing that chess game for so long that the board was getting away from me,” he continued.
Braun, like so many of the stars he helped create, is now ready for his second act. “I’m just now starting to really give myself empathy for the first time,” he explained. He told Shetty that the Hoffman Process gave him a new lease on life and a new tattoo, “LOVE MORE,” on his chest.
But, unlike the teen idols whose careers Braun has shaped, Braun’s success has never been dependent on popular adoration. And if he can let that go, he might be able to accept what so many others see when they look at him: that in his line of work, fear is still a far more powerful weapon than love.
“I’d never want to be repped by him,” one music executive said. “And then I’m like, maybe I’d want to be repped by him because he gets his clients insane deals.” You’re thinking to yourself, ‘He’s a piece of shit, but he’s my piece of shit.'”