| Jury selection is expected to wrap up today in the federal trial of Sean “Diddy” Combs, allowing opening statements to begin next week. Devin Leonard, who’s written about the downfall of his business empire for Businessweek, talks today about why he was able to rise so far despite the signs of trouble around him. Plus: A new episode of the Elon, Inc. podcast, plus a story from India about its cyclone risk. If this email was forwarded to you, click here to sign up. Sean Combs appeared in federal court in Manhattan on Monday for the start of his sex-trafficking trial. His hair and goatee had turned an avuncular gray during his months behind bars. He was wearing a tasteful navy blue sweater for the occasion and sounded uncharacteristically shy when he requested permission for a bathroom break. As numerous articles leading up to jury selection pointed out, he’d fallen a long way from his seemingly untouchable days as the founder of Bad Boy Entertainment. Invariably, these reports noted that, along with platinum records, movie roles, award show appearances and magazine photo shoots, Combs’ path was strewn with violence: the death of nine at an event he promoted in 1991 at the City College of New York; the assault of a rival record company executive before the decade’s end, for which he was required to take an anger management course; and his indictment soon after that for allegedly bribing his driver to conceal his gun following a shooting in a Manhattan night club (Combs was acquitted at trial); and so on. The question that went unanswered was, with so many signs of trouble, how did Combs get away with running a sex-trafficking operation for two decades, as prosecutors have alleged in his current case? Was it his deft manipulation of the entertainment press? Perhaps. Or his ability to frighten his alleged sex abuse victims into silence? Plenty of them have said so in lawsuits filed against him before and after his September arrest. (Combs maintains his innocence.) Surely there was something else that made people overlook Combs’ unsavory side. He was one of the primary figures, along with Russell Simmons and Jay-Z, who convinced corporate America in the 1990s that rap was an investable commodity. Bill Clinton was in the White House, the stock market was booming, and—thanks in no small part to Combs’ ability to cater to the mass market—hip-hop, once an underground phenomenon, had become mainstream.  Melania and Donald Trump with Combs, Kimora Lee Simmons, Russell Simmons and Andre Harrell at Mar-a-Lago in March 2005 for Russell Simmons’ Art For Life Palm Beach event honoring Combs. Photographer: Johnny Nunez/WireImage Combs himself embodied this transformation. Executives who might’ve blanched at shaking hands with someone like, say, the Wu-Tang Clan’s Ol’ Dirty Bastard could identify with Combs’ ascension from hustling record company intern to label boss to Grammy award-winning artist. (Never mind that Combs was a mediocre rapper and didn’t write his own lyrics.) And the man who called himself Puffy (and later Diddy) was certainly more business-friendly than many of the rap luminaries of the previous decade, like the Black nationalist members of Public Enemy or the cop-bashing MCs in N.W.A. Those artists saw hip-hop as a vehicle to raise consciousness. Combs used it as a currency to enrich both himself and his corporate sponsors, whether it was producing Making the Band for MTV, selling fast food for Burger King, peddling designer clothes for Macy’s or shilling vodka for Diageo. Presumably, they all did their background checks. Then again, infamy often strolls hand in hand with celebrity. Combs’ brushes with the law didn’t seem to dissuade the likes of Martha Stewart and Donald Trump from attending his White Parties in the Hamptons. Nor did it prevent investor Ron Burkle or Bridgewater founder Ray Dalio from befriending him. It was Combs’ reputation as a businessman that kept him in the public eye and financially flush after his musical career waned. He could present himself as an inspirational figure, with a message of self-empowerment. Yet when Cassie Ventura came forward in November 2023 with a lawsuit alleging that he repeatedly sexually assaulted her, everything started to unravel. Perhaps it’s too soon for the subdued man who appeared in federal court on Monday to express remorse. But some of the business people who gave Combs the benefit of the doubt might want to consider it. | 
