Build Black Better: Thomas Ford’s Case for Structure, Ownership and Closing America’s Racial Wealth Gap

Thomas Ford does not believe Black America’s central economic problem is simply a lack of money.

He believes it is a lack of structure.

That distinction sits at the center of an economic philosophy Ford has developed through poverty, military service, entrepreneurship, financial setbacks and years spent trying to build technology, media and business platforms aimed at an underserved market.

“Structure,” Ford said when asked to identify what he considers the biggest weakness in Black economics. “Structure. That’s 120% what I believe is missing.”

It is a provocative diagnosis, particularly at a time when the racial wealth gap remains enormous, Black-owned businesses continue to report financing disparities and the country is debating the future of diversity, equity and inclusion.

But Ford’s argument is neither that discrimination disappeared nor that America’s economic playing field suddenly became equal.

Quite the opposite.

He argues that because discrimination and unequal access may continue, Black Americans cannot make their economic future dependent entirely upon persuading somebody else to change.

His proposed response is summed up in three words:

Build Black Better.

For Ford, that does not mean simply “buy Black.” It means constructing businesses, financial institutions, media, technology and other infrastructure capable of improving quality of life while competing on price, service and quality.

And despite its name, Ford says his ultimate vision is not racial separation.

He wants an America in which racial economic disparities eventually become so small that poverty is discussed as an American problem rather than a Black problem, White problem or problem belonging disproportionately to any particular racial group.

“Building our weakest makes us the strongest,” Ford said.

From Food Stamps to the Navy

Ford’s economic philosophy did not begin in a business school.

He says he was born at Grady Memorial Hospital in Atlanta to a White mother and Black father. Some of his earliest memories are of Atlanta’s Cabbagetown neighborhood.

Money was scarce.

“I didn’t grow up in money,” Ford said. “In fact, I’ve had very little money to rub together since I can actually remember.”

His family used food stamps, he said. Christmas could be lean, when there was a Christmas celebration at all.

“We worked hard just to make it by.”

What Ford says he lacked almost entirely was structure.

That changed when he entered the U.S. Navy, military service also referenced in publicly available biographical material about him.

Ford says other sailors eventually called him “Joe Navy” because he followed the rules so closely.

The surprising part, he said, was how natural those rules felt.

“I didn’t rebel against the structure,” Ford said. “It was easy to follow the rules because there were rules to follow.”

But it was not obedience itself that left the deepest impression.

It was the system.

On a Navy ship, Ford observed departments performing specialized jobs. One group did not need to do everything. Each concentrated on a particular responsibility, yet the entire ship depended upon those individual functions working together.

“Everything had a reason for being,” he said. “Everything had its role, and it had its responsibility.”

That became Ford’s metaphor for economics.

A functioning economy, in his view, should resemble the ship: different institutions performing different jobs while contributing to a larger system.

What he sees in Black America is the opposite—many talented individuals and businesses, but too little coordination among them.

The Data Confirm a Wealth Gap — But Not Every Claim About It

Ford frequently describes Black America as economically underserved, and the broad point is supported by federal data.

But one estimate he offered during the interview requires a substantial correction.

Ford suggested that perhaps 80% to 90% of Black Americans live below the poverty line.

They do not.

The Census Bureau reported that 18.4% of Black Americans lived below the official poverty threshold in 2024, compared with an overall U.S. poverty rate of 10.6%. The Black poverty rate remains disproportionately high, but it is nowhere close to 80% or 90%.

The wealth disparity is much larger.

According to the Federal Reserve’s most recent Survey of Consumer Finances racial-wealth analysis, the median Black family had approximately $44,890 in wealth in 2022, compared with approximately $285,010 for the median White family. Put another way, median Black family wealth amounted to about 15.75% of median White family wealth.

Those numbers offer statistical weight to the economic problem Ford wants to address, even when some of his estimates overstate its dimensions.

And Ford’s response to that disparity is unlikely to satisfy everyone.

He wants Black Americans to spend less time asking who is preventing their advancement and more time asking what they are willing to build.

“What Are We Doing About It?”

Ford does not deny America's history of racial discrimination.

He specifically acknowledges unequal access to capital, discriminatory practices and government policies that historically disadvantaged Black Americans.

But he says history cannot become an economic operating plan.

“As long as there are benefits to certain practices, they won’t go away,” Ford said.

His argument is straightforward: if individuals or institutions benefit economically from an existing system, expecting them voluntarily to surrender those benefits is risky. The community disadvantaged by that system therefore needs an independent strategy for improving its position.

“We don’t have a choice but to change our behavior,” Ford said.

That philosophy places heavy emphasis on self-accountability.

At times, extraordinarily heavy emphasis.

Ford argues that distrust within Black communities is not always generated exclusively by what outsiders have done. Sometimes, he believes, people project their own behavior, fears and insecurities onto others.

It is among the more controversial positions he expressed during the interview.

But Ford repeatedly returns to the same question:

What can we control?

“We always talk about what the other communities are doing,” he said. “And yet we talk about what we’re not doing, but we be the first people not doing it.”

For Ford, participation matters more than rhetoric.

That means sharing useful information. Supporting credible institutions. Contributing expertise. Building businesses. Promoting platforms that provide value. Investing. Teaching. Buying when the product makes economic sense.

It does not, in his view, mean supporting a company simply because the owner is Black.

Beyond “Buy Black”

This is one place where Ford sharply departs from some traditional Black-business advocacy.

He does not believe racial identity gives a business permission to charge an uncompetitive price or deliver an inferior product.

A struggling consumer should not, he said, effectively be asked to choose between paying a household bill and purchasing a more expensive product simply because the seller is Black.

“You can’t do that,” Ford said. “They’ll buy once from you, but that’s it.”

His formula is more demanding.

The product should improve quality of life.

The quality should be strong.

The price should be competitive.

Then, he says, Black ownership becomes an additional reason to participate.

Ford argues that entrepreneurs often underestimate one of the least glamorous parts of running a company: procurement.

A company purchasing goods from expensive vendors may be forced to pass those costs along to customers. Entrepreneurs therefore need to research supply chains, negotiate costs and understand competitors instead of treating the title “CEO” as an achievement by itself.

Ford admits he once fell into that trap.

“I used to be like, ‘Man, I’m a CEO,’” he recalled. “That title had power, even though there was nothing around me that stated that I was a CEO.”

Eventually, he said, he learned that CEO was not a trophy.

It was a job.

Black Business Is Already Significant

There is also considerably more Black entrepreneurship in America than stereotypes sometimes suggest.

Census Bureau estimates show approximately 194,585 Black-owned employer firms operating in 2022. Together, those companies generated an estimated $211.8 billion in annual receipts, employed approximately 1.6 million workers and maintained about $61.2 billion in annual payroll.

Those are significant numbers.

But Ford wants the conversation to move beyond how many Black people start businesses.

He wants to know what Black Americans own at scale.

Banks.

Manufacturing.

Technology infrastructure.

Media.

Real estate.

Investment companies.

Transportation.

Search.

Communications.

And eventually, major companies capable of employing thousands rather than businesses that primarily employ their founders.

“Other communities realize how we spend,” Ford said, “so they engage in us at that level to where we spend to make that community richer.”

His answer is not to stop commerce between communities. It is to study Black consumer behavior and determine where Black-owned companies can build competitive enterprises around needs that already exist.

“We know what type of movies and shows we like to watch,” he said. “We should be the ones identifying how we engage with each other.”

The Capital Debate

Perhaps nowhere does Ford depart more dramatically from conventional Black-business discussion than on access to capital.

He bristles at the phrase.

Ford believes some aspiring entrepreneurs use “lack of access to capital” to mean something closer to: someone else should finance my idea before I have demonstrated that it works.

“People want to be paid to start their business,” he said. “And that’s just not how it works.”

He points to Shark Tank as a popular example. Investors routinely ask entrepreneurs about sales, revenue and the amount already invested in the enterprise.

Ford argues Black entrepreneurs should expect similar scrutiny.

“If you’re not willing to put your own money into your business, how and why do you expect someone else to do it?”

But the empirical record requires an important qualification.

Ford himself acknowledges that banks can “pick and choose” and that Black businesses are not always treated equally in lending markets.

Federal Reserve data support that concern.

In findings from its Small Business Credit Survey, the Federal Reserve reported that among employer firms applying for loans, lines of credit or merchant cash advances, 58% of White-owned applicants received all the financing they sought, compared with only 20% of Black-owned applicants in the 2022 survey.

Earlier Federal Reserve research has likewise found that lower Black-business approval rates persisted even after accounting for various firm characteristics and performance factors.

So access to capital is not imaginary.

The evidence suggests it is a legitimate obstacle.

Ford’s argument is somewhat different: its existence cannot become an excuse for failing to build the strongest possible business before approaching investors or lenders.

Both realities can exist simultaneously.

A business owner can prepare poorly for financing.

And a qualified Black business owner can encounter unequal financing outcomes.

Serious economic analysis requires acknowledging both.

Ford’s Problem With Small Grants

Ford is also skeptical of what he sees as symbolic business-development programs.

A $5,000, $10,000 or $25,000 grant may provide meaningful assistance to a small enterprise, he said, but he questions whether such awards are sufficient for companies attempting to compete nationally or internationally.

He would rather see funding tied to benchmarks and genuine growth.

His criticism is not that small grants have no value. It is that the public should distinguish between helping a microbusiness cover an immediate expense and capitalizing a company for scale.

Those are different objectives.

That distinction mirrors Ford’s larger obsession with structure.

Capital, in his view, should have a job.

So should the company receiving it.

DEI as a Crutch?

Ford’s position on diversity, equity and inclusion may be his most politically combustible.

“In my opinion, DEI was a crutch,” he said.

He immediately adds an important qualification.

“I think it helped.”

His objection is less to people gaining employment through expanded opportunity than to Black economic advancement becoming dependent upon continued admission into institutions controlled by someone else.

Ford uses a bakery analogy.

If one bakery does not want his business or labor, he says his first instinct is not to spend forever demanding access to that bakery.

“I’ll find somebody within my community who wants to create a bakery,” he said. “Or I’ll bake my own donuts.”

It is an argument for ownership over inclusion.

Critics could reasonably respond that creating a new bakery does not eliminate unlawful discrimination at the old one, nor does entrepreneurship substitute for equal civil rights protections.

Ford does not argue that anti-discrimination protections should disappear.

His contention is that civil-rights enforcement and economic independence are different tools.

One can demand equal treatment under the law while simultaneously reducing dependence on institutions one does not control.

Building an Ecosystem

Ford’s ambitions reflect that philosophy.

Rather than concentrating on a single enterprise, he has spent years trying to assemble interconnected platforms.

He describes BRTN—Broadcast Radio and Television Network—and Brio Network as part of an effort to expand Black participation and ownership in digital media.

He wants independent creators to recognize that modern technology has dramatically lowered the cost of creating what amounts to a home-based television studio.

Ford is also developing NexArvo, an AI customer-service and account-management platform designed to answer calls, interact with customers around the clock, access authorized account information and escalate issues to human staff when necessary.

NexArvo’s public website describes the service as a 24/7 AI account manager aimed at small businesses, with phone answering, messaging, account lookups, scheduling and controlled human escalation among its advertised functions.

Ford describes NextPing as an SMS and email marketing platform; BLKPEEPZ as a search and email platform; Cribbin as a social network incorporating elements associated with several generations of social media; and WebBee as a web-services platform.

He is also developing the American Dodgeball League, an attempt to build a paid sports property.

Then there is Black Wall Street Economy, which Ford says is intended to combine financial journalism with practical education around homeownership, investing, entrepreneurship and wealth-building.

The common denominator is infrastructure.

“It’s more than just buy Black,” Ford said.

Then came the phrase that summarizes virtually everything else he said during hours of interviews:

“It’s build Black. Build Black better.”

Wealth as Quality of Life

Ford’s own definition of wealth is unusual for someone building businesses.

He does not define it principally as net worth.

“Wealth, to me, is different,” he said.

His preferred measure is quality of life.

And his own quality of life, he says, improves when he sees someone else improve.

He traces that philosophy back to the Navy.

During physical-readiness runs, Ford said he often performed better when running alongside someone who was struggling.

Motivating another sailor motivated him.

“When I teach people, I learn more,” he said.

The philosophy has had consequences.

Ford says he has lost substantial amounts of money. He says he has been cheated more than once. He says his efforts have cost him something harder to calculate.

Peace.

“It’s cost me my peace,” Ford said. “I don’t have peace.”

Even there, his instinct is to turn responsibility inward.

“I don’t blame others for my bad decision-making,” he said. “I made a lot of bad decisions. I blame myself.”

That tendency toward extreme self-accountability runs through his entire economic worldview.

It may also be one of its vulnerabilities.

Systems matter.

Discrimination matters.

Policy matters.

Capital markets matter.

Other people’s misconduct matters.

Yet Ford continually returns to the part of the equation he believes a person can change most immediately:

himself.

He Does Not Expect a Statue

Ask Ford about legacy and the ambition abruptly disappears.

He does not expect people to remember him.

No monuments.

No history-book chapter.

Perhaps, he said, a footnote somewhere saying Thomas Ford started something.

He is comfortable with that.

“My legacy is unimportant,” Ford said.

What matters is being able to look at his own life and know someone benefited.

“I want to be able to honor myself by saying what I did, somebody else benefited from it, and no one has to recognize it.”

For a man simultaneously attempting to build media, artificial intelligence, marketing, search, social-networking, financial-education and sports ventures, it is an oddly anti-ego definition of success.

Ford says he has tried being more self-serving.

It did not work.

“It lowers my standards for self,” he said. “It’s just not who I am.”

The Vision for 2036

Ford believes the ultimate success of Build Black Better would eventually make the phrase itself less necessary.

If his vision succeeded over the next decade, he says Americans would see stronger businesses, better education, greater ownership and improved quality of life in communities now disproportionately affected by economic hardship.

But the final destination would not be an America permanently divided into separate racial economies.

It would be an America in which race becomes less useful for predicting economic outcomes.

“There won’t be no, ‘There are more Blacks,’ or ‘more Whites living below the poverty line,’” Ford said. “It will be an American issue.”

He does not expect every community to reach prosperity through exactly the same institutions, culture or methods.

Instead, Ford imagines multiple routes to the same destination.

Some communities may travel one.

Others another.

What matters is whether the roads eventually lead Americans toward comparable opportunities for education, ownership, security and a decent quality of life.

“There are multiple routes to the same outcome,” Ford said.

That idea may be the most useful way to understand Thomas Ford.

He is biracial, born to a White mother and Black father.

He grew up poor.

He found structure in the Navy.

He became an entrepreneur.

He lost money.

He says he lost peace.

And still he builds.

His argument to Black America is demanding, and parts of it will undoubtedly anger people: stop waiting, stop making identity the entire business model, stop confusing entrepreneurship with a title, stop treating capital like an entitlement, and stop measuring participation by what someone else should do.

But the evidence also adds an important warning to his message.

Black Americans are not starting from an economically equal position. Black poverty remains disproportionately high. The racial wealth gap remains massive. Black entrepreneurs demonstrably encounter financing disparities. Those realities cannot simply be disciplined out of existence.

Ford’s answer is that those facts make building more urgent, not less.

He does not promise that Build Black Better will make discrimination disappear.

He argues that stronger institutions can make communities less vulnerable to it.

And underneath all the language about Black economics lies a broader proposition about America itself.

“America is not better by seeking to be great,” Ford said.

“America is great when we seek to do better.”

For Ford, that begins with the Americans who have the furthest distance to travel.

Because, as he puts it:

“Building our weakest makes us the strongest.”