The correct answer, as is so often the case, is that both things are likely true. James has been searching for influence ever since leaving the nest. He lost his first inheritance after Rupert passed the bulk of the empire to Disney, quietly confiding to Bob Iger that neither of his two sons was equipped to run the $71.3 billion company without him. He then lost the remaining Fox fiefdom when his father handed the reins to the preferred son, Lachlan, who has capably managed a lean, cash-generative linear business while making some selective bets on the post-linear future. But James got a nice chunk of change in the process: billions from the Disney sale, and another $1.1 billion that he and his sisters each got to settle with their dad over the succession plan.

In 2019, James founded his own investment vehicle, Lupa Systems, which went on to acquire majority stakes in the companies behind Art Basel and the Tribeca Film Festival, and also backed the Indian media investor Bodhi Tree. Most intriguingly, James and his wife, Kathryn, are leveraging the Basel business to create a new Davos-meets-Aspen global ideas festival for their Futurific Institute, a joint venture between Lupa Systems and Basel parent MCH Group.

Speaking to Vanity Fair, a source close to Futurific described the festival as “a contemporary riff on the world’s fair,” incorporating parts of the Venice Biennale, an evening sale at Sotheby’s, the St. Louis World’s Fair, a TED Talk, and Burning Man. Sure, it has a distinct whiff of Kendall Roy’s “Substack meets Masterclass meets The Economist meets The New Yorker,” but the ambition is real. The inaugural edition is slated to take place in Basel, Switzerland, in 2028.

It’s not hard to imagine how James might incorporate Vox’s publishing and podcast business into this global thought-leadership events thesis. Penske certainly provides a template. In recent years, Jay has acquired Dick Clark Productions and a 50 percent stake in South by Southwest, allowing him to transform PMC from a sleepy trade-publishing outfit—Variety, The Hollywood Reporter, Rolling Stone, etcetera—into a vertically integrated culture-and-events empire where journalism serves as the intellectual scaffolding for the higher-margin events and influence business. (Justin Smith is pursuing a similar vision at Semafor.) One can easily envision James doing the same at Vox: leveraging New York and the podcasts as convening mechanisms for elite communities in tech, politics, finance, etcetera.

Not to be the skunk at the garden party, but the all-important caveat here for James will be the health of Vox’s business itself. As I reported last month, New York is a $100 million-per-year revenue engine with very thin margins. (At the risk of piling onto one of the most psychoanalyzed father-son relationships on the planet, it needs to be noted that, after forcing out legendary founders Clay Felker and Milton Glaser, Rupert owned New York from 1976 to 1991.) The podcast network, which brings in $60 million-plus, turns a heftier $20 million-plus profit but is subject to significant key-man vulnerabilities, since Kara, Scott, and just a few other hosts drive the business. It’s also possible that Jim couldn’t get the high-water mark he desired for the audio business, and that James, sensing a vulnerability, got a twofer at a convenient price. Neither would comment.

In any event, that’s James’s circle to square now. And despite the predictable cynicism surrounding another billionaire-heir media acquisition, there is at least a strategic logic here. James seems smart enough to understand that Vox’s future has less to do with page views than with proximity to influential audiences, powerful networks, and high-end advertisers desperate for signal amid the noise. Whether that produces a durable media institution or merely a very sophisticated Basel cocktail party remains to be seen. But, having to settle for Vox after losing Fox, at least James appears to get the game he’s playing. That may be the real point of all this—the guy is back in the game.