The conference room in Greenville, North Carolina, doesn’t scream empire. No gold-plated fixtures or walls lined with framed headlines. Just a long oak table, a few mismatched chairs, and a whiteboard scarred from years of frantic sketches. Outside, the late November sun dips low over the Beast Industries campus, casting long shadows across the parking lot where a fleet of unmarked vans idles like soldiers on standby. This is ground zero for the most improbable success story in digital history. And sitting at the head of the table, scrolling through his phone with the casual intensity of a man who just bought a theme park, is Jimmy Donaldson. Twenty-seven years old. Five-foot-eleven, if you count the perpetual slouch from sixteen-hour editing marathons. Dressed in a plain black hoodie that could pass for any college kid’s, but the eyes give it away: sharp, calculating, like he’s already three videos ahead.
We shake hands. His grip is firm but quick, the kind that says he’s got a production meeting in five. “Appreciate you coming out here,” he says, voice low and even, with that faint Southern drawl that hasn’t quite faded despite the global spotlight. “Most folks want to do this in L.A. or New York. But this is home.” Home. The word hangs there, heavy with layers. Greenville isn’t glamorous. Population 90,000. Chain restaurants and flat fields as far as the eye can see. But for Donaldson, it’s the fortress where a shy kid with Crohn’s disease turned a bedroom laptop into a $5 billion conglomerate. We settle in. No cameras. No crew. Just two chairs, a recorder, and three hours to unpack the whirlwind. He cracks a bottle of water, leans back, and waits for the first question.
Q: Jimmy, let’s start at the beginning. You’re often called the king of YouTube, with over 400 million subscribers across your channels as of late 2025. But back in 2012, you were just a 13-year-old posting under MrBeast6000. What hooked you on this platform? Was it the games, the comments, or something deeper?
A faint smile tugs at the corner of his mouth, the one that says he’s heard this story a thousand times but still finds a thread of wonder in it. “Man, it was everything and nothing at once. I remember the exact day. February 19, 2012. I’d just gotten this beat-up laptop from my mom—Sue, if you know her stories. She was in the military back then, prison warden in Germany, so we moved around a lot. Wichita, Fort Leavenworth, finally Greenville. Life was chaotic, you know? Crohn’s hit me hard as a kid. Doctors’ visits, steroids, feeling like crap all the time. YouTube was my escape. First video? Some dumb cheat codes for Battle Pirates. Got 20 views. Felt like a million.”
He pauses, eyes drifting to the window where a group of employees hustles gear into a warehouse. “But it wasn’t the views at first. It was control. In real life, I was quiet. Shy as hell. Baseball coach had to pull my cap low over my eyes during Little League because I’d freeze if anyone watched. Online? I could build worlds. Minecraft lets plays, estimating other creators’ earnings—that one blew up because I nerded out on the math. PewDiePie was king then, 10 million subs. I dissected every video. Thumbnails. Intros. Why did this hook at 15 seconds and drop at 30? It became an obsession. Five years straight, I’d wake up, Uber Eats breakfast, study virality till my eyes blurred, crash, repeat. Unhealthy? Yeah. But that’s how you win.”
From those early days, Donaldson traces a line straight to now. He dropped out of East Carolina University after two weeks—”Mom was pissed, but she gets it now”—and poured every cent into content. By 2017, that first sponsorship deal with Quidd for $10,000 changed everything. “I didn’t pocket it. Gave it to a homeless guy on camera. Views exploded. That’s when I realized: stunts plus heart equals scale.”
Q: Speaking of scale, your growth is insane. You hit 200 million subs in 2023, overtook T-Series in June 2024 with 267 million, and now you’re pushing 400 million across mains like MrBeast, Gaming, Reacts, and Philanthropy. What’s the secret sauce? Algorithm hacks? Team size? Or just better ideas?
He chuckles, a low rumble that builds slowly. “People love the algorithm myth. Like it’s some black box you crack once and boom, you’re set. Nah. Todd Beaupré from YouTube said it best at VidCon: replace ‘algorithm’ with ‘audience.’ I spent years gaming it—watch time, CTR, retention graphs down to the second. Early videos? I’d lose 70 percent of viewers in the first minute. Now? We hook in five seconds. Explosions, cash stacks, that foam bat to the head feeling. But it’s not magic. It’s data.”
Leaning forward, he taps the table like he’s plotting a thumbnail. “Team’s huge now. Over 500 at Beast Industries. Friends from high school—Chandler, Karl, Chris Tyson till the drama. We test everything. A/B thumbnails. Script 10 versions. Film in batches. My gaming channel? Minecraft challenges because that’s what sticks. Philanthropy? Every penny back to causes. Subs came because we deliver what people crave: surprise, scale, feel-good chaos. 2025’s Shorts like ‘Would You Fly to Paris for a Baguette?’ hit 1.5 billion views. Why? It’s dumb, relatable, shareable. Algorithm loves that. But without the grind, it’s nothing.”
He shifts, glancing at his phone—a habit, I learn, from constant production tweaks. “Growth’s slowing a bit. Saturation. But we’re at 99 billion lifetime views. Non-subs drive 80 percent. That’s the game: pull strangers in, make ’em stay.”
Q: Let’s talk business. Beast Industries is valued at $5 billion. Revenue hit $473 million in 2024, projected $900 million this year, $1.6 billion in 2026. Feastables alone is doing $520 million next year. How does a YouTuber become a CPG mogul? Walk us through the pivot from videos to ventures.
Eyes lighting up, he gestures broadly, as if mapping a factory floor. “YouTube’s the engine, but it can’t be the only one. Ads and sponsors? $600-700 million a year, yeah. But brands pay $2.5-3 million for a shoutout because I know views hit 200 million. Still, reinvest everything. Personally? Less than a million in the bank. Borrowed from Mom for the wedding. On paper, billionaire. Reality? Fuel for growth.”
He dives into Feastables, voice picking up pace. “Idea hit in 2021. Hated junky candy. Wanted ethical cocoa, plant-based, simple ingredients. Called Jim Murray—ex-RXBar president. He co-founded with me. Launch? Willy Wonka stunt. Built a factory, contest to win it. Sold a million bars in 72 hours. $10 million day one. Now? $250 million revenue, $20 million profit last year. Outpaced YouTube. Why? Fans aren’t customers; they’re believers. I plug it in videos, they raid Walmart shelves. Cleaned displays myself once—got heat for it, but sales spiked.”
MrBeast Burger? Virtual chain, 2,000 locations. “Lawsuit sucked—quality issues with partners. Fixed it. Lunchly with Logan Paul and KSI? ‘Better-for-you’ Lunchables. Disputed health claims, but flew off shelves.” Beast Games on Prime? “$100 million budget. Renewed for two more seasons. Lost tens of millions, but views? Records.” Future? “Mobile gaming division 2026. Telecom MVNO. Crypto banking trademark filed. Novel with James Patterson out next year. Riyadh theme park just launched—rides from my videos. Beast Land. Crazy, right?”
Q: Philanthropy’s your signature. Team Trees: 20 million planted. Team Seas: 30 million pounds trash. Team Water: $40 million for WaterAid in 2025. Beast Philanthropy channel raised $47 million in meals this year. Is it genuine, or does the spectacle amplify impact? Critics say it’s ‘inspiration porn.’
His face hardens, just for a beat, then softens into resolve. “Hits me every time. Grew up middle-class, but saw need. First big give? That $10k in 2017. Now? We’ve cured 1,000 blind people, built 100 wells, 100 houses. 30 million in food waste redistributed. It’s not PR. Makes me happy. Seeing faces light up? That’s the high.”
He addresses the shade head-on. “Performative? Fair question. Videos get eyes on issues. Governments should lead—blindness fixes cost pennies, yet millions suffer. But I’m not waiting. Critics say ‘YouTuber shouldn’t fix this’? Ideally, no. But standing by? Nah.” From the Diary of a CEO: “A world where I help is just more fun.” Fundraising twist? “X post for Beast Philanthropy: donate six figures, weekend at the studio. Q&A, food pantry tour. Raised millions. Win-win.”
Impact metrics spill out: 141,000 fed this year. Partnerships with Ocean Conservancy, Arbor Day. “Teach kindness viral. New gens care more.”
Q: Personal side. Engaged to Thea Booysen since Christmas 2024. Private proposal, island wedding planned. How’s fame reshaped relationships? Family’s role—Mom as compliance chief, brother CJ collabing?
A genuine grin breaks through, rare and warm. “Thea’s my rock. Met through South African friends in 2022. She’s a writer, keeps me grounded. Proposal? No spectacle. Private, intimate. Friends thought Super Bowl stunt. Nope. Just us. Wedding? Small island, family only. She’s seen the chaos—16-hour days, global shoots. Balances me.”
Family anchors him. “Mom, Sue? Military vet, ran prisons. Divorced when I was nine. She managed my books early, now chief compliance. Stepdad’s in videos—bought a car with pennies once. CJ? Older bro, MrBro channel. Collabs like ’24 Hours in Desert.’ Less successful, but tight. Little sis? Private. Crohn’s taught resilience—family rallied.”
Fame’s toll? “Introvert core. Social life? Work friends. Hard keeping outsiders. But Thea’s changing that.”
Q: Controversies hit hard in 2024-2025. Beast Games lawsuit: contestants allege unsafe conditions, no meals, harassment. DogPack404 claims staged contests, crypto scams. Old clips: racist jokes, grooming vibes with Ava Kris Tyson—who left amid minors allegations. Your response?
He exhales slow, choosing words like scripts. “Sucks. 2024 was rough. Games? 2,000 contestants. CrowdStrike glitch, weather—logistics hell. Five sued over ‘dangerous conditions.’ We’re reviewing. Talked to 700-800; they loved it, want back. Behind-scenes drops soon—shows exaggeration. Lawyers handle, but transparency’s key.”
DogPack? “Staged? Nah. Lotteries legal. Signatures? Cleared. Moldy Lunchly? Isolated. Crypto? Never scammed.” Old stuff: “Teen me? Dumb jokes. ‘Max I’d pay for a Black person—$300’? Cringe. Apologized years ago. Influence means responsibility. Ava? Horrific. Hired investigators July 2024. She left. We protect minors—no tolerance.”
From Oompaville interview: “Document with receipts. Baseless.” Quinn Emanuel probe: 39 interviews, 4.5 million docs. “Allegations unfounded.” Mexico pyramids? “Permits filed. INAH approved.” Saudi park? “PR blitz, nine interviews. Best day ever.”
Resilience? “Invincible feeling faded. But truth wins. Fans know me.”
Q: 2026 looms. Phone company MVNO. Mobile games. Beverages, cereal lines. Thriller novel with Patterson. Beast Games seasons 2-3. ‘Crazy’ videos—half impossible? What’s the vision? Burnout risk?
Excitement surges, hands animating. “2026? Level up. Telecom: MVNO on T-Mobile/Verizon nets. Affordable plans for fans. Launch mid-year. Games division: mobile hits, esports tie-ins. CPG: drinks, snacks, cereal. Novel? Patterson collab—thriller drops HarperCollins. Games renewed—$5M prizes, global casts.”
Videos? “Planned roster: half nuts. Stranded at sea sequels. NFL buy fake-out follow-up. Riyadh park’s first—rides from vids. Possible? We’ll make it.” From X: “So crazy/big, not sure feasible. New level.”
Burnout? “Hard mode. Mental health sidelined for success. ‘No one wants my head—they’d be miserable.’ 16-hour days. But Thea’s pushing balance. Philanthropy fuels me. World better? Worth it.”
Q: Legacy? From shy kid to billionaire philanthropist. Advice for dreamers? Final thought?
He stands, stretching, gaze steady. “Legacy? Inspire giving. Prove obsession pays. Advice: Make 100 videos. Ignore noise. Study audience, not excuses. Retention’s king. Fail fast, iterate.”
Final? “YouTube gave a quiet kid a voice. Now? Use it huge. Help more, create wilder. 2026’s just start.”
We wrap as dusk falls. Vans rumble out—next stunt calls. Donaldson waves, hoodie vanishing into twilight. Empire’s heart: relentless, human, unstoppable.
Disclaimer: The content of this interview is compiled and adapted from various sourced interviews, articles, and public statements by Jimmy Donaldson (MrBeast). No new or fabricated material has been introduced; all responses reflect documented quotes and insights from these sources.
