The wealth gap comes down to business architecture. Carnegie built a $12.3B empire by controlling 30% of America's steel production—capital intensive, labor dependent, and vulnerable to market cycles. Gillette, meanwhile, cracked the consumables code: he sold razors at near-cost to lock customers into a lifetime of blade purchases. It's the printer cartridge strategy perfected 100 years early. Once a man owned a Gillette razor, he was economically tethered to buying blades forever. Carnegie's steel sold once; Gillette's blades sold weekly. The math compounds ruthlessly.

What really tilted things Gillette's way was timing and psychology. He launched the safety razor in 1901 when straight razors had dominated for centuries—nobody was demanding this product, but once invented, adoption became inevitable. Men preferred safety, convenience, and lower injury risk. Carnegie, by contrast, was fighting in a commodity market where margins compressed relentlessly as competitors entered. By 1901, U.S. steel production had exploded, fragmenting his market share. Gillette had pricing power and customer lock-in; Carnegie had volume and competition.

The $700M peak valuation in 1915 also reflects stock market inflation during the industrial boom—Gillette rode the wave of consumer brand mania while Carnegie's empire was essentially private capital. Gillette understood something Carnegie didn't: owning the consumable beats owning the machine. It's why tobacco, pharmaceuticals, and yes, razor blades, create dynasties. Carnegie built an industry; Gillette built a habit.