On his birthday in February, NVIDIA CEO Jensen Huang was celebrating at home with his wife when he noticed multiple missed calls from unknown numbers on his phone. The tech titan at the center of the AI boom initially ignored them—until the phone rang again. "Hello, Jensen Huang, this is President Trump," came the voice on the other end. Huang's dog began barking loudly, drowning out the call, and he initially dismissed it as a prank. "I said, 'Really? President Trump himself?'" he recalled in an interview. The impromptu conversation lasted 45 minutes.
For most of his career, Huang remained relatively unknown outside Silicon Valley, with NVIDIA's chips not even considered mainstream in tech. Chips had long been the "unwanted stepchildren" of the digital world—overshadowed by the devices they powered and the services they enabled. But this year, chips became the core driver behind the AI revolution sweeping through business and finance.
The Financial Times named Huang its Person of the Year for his pivotal role in this transformation. Huang has spearheaded one of the largest private-sector investment programs in history, sustaining both the U.S. economy and stock market rally. The technology he champions also holds the potential to reshape entire industries. NVIDIA briefly became the world's first $5 trillion company this year (its market cap stood at $4.4 trillion as of Thursday night). By the end of 2025, Huang's net worth is projected to exceed $160 billion, placing him among the world's top 10 richest individuals. Even if current valuations prove inflated and shares halve, NVIDIA's market cap would still triple its 2021 level.
Huang consistently warns that technological leadership is fragile and cautions against complacency. Major tech firms like Google are developing their own chips to compete with NVIDIA. Yet, three years after ChatGPT ignited a global AI race, NVIDIA remains the undisputed leader in AI chip manufacturing.
Though sudden fame has cast Huang into the public role of tech visionary, he was prepared for the responsibility. He calls NVIDIA "one of the most influential tech companies in history" with characteristic understatement. "We spent 30 years inventing computing technology that’s now fundamentally transforming all of computing," he said. "We’re building an entirely new digital intelligence industry."
2025 will be remembered as the year data centers entered the public consciousness. A rush to build massive new computing facilities to meet future AI demand has made them a bright spot in a sluggish economy, accounting for a significant share of U.S. GDP growth. As the primary supplier of AI chips (which constitute about half of data center costs), NVIDIA's performance has soared. Some critics argue Huang's circular investment model—where NVIDIA funds AI startups, including its own customers—artificially inflates chip demand.
But Huang defends these investments as necessary to cultivate a broader AI ecosystem. NVIDIA's commitments are "billions, in an industry worth trillions," he said—too small to meaningfully distort demand. Since this summer, NVIDIA has made headline-grabbing pledges, including a potential $100 billion investment in OpenAI. As bubble concerns grow, Huang remains laser-focused on execution. "Discussion about investing is very hot, but actual investors are very cautious," he insisted.
This year, Huang delivered a series of marathon keynote speeches worldwide, blending technical depth with showmanship. His signature leather jacket (now bedazzled) has become a powerful personal brand, rivaling Steve Jobs' turtleneck. A viral video showed him arm-in-arm with Samsung and Hyundai executives sharing beers. "Real-time intelligence manufacturing is brand new to the world," he said. "Every country will have it, every company will use it, every industry will apply it. This could be a multi-trillion-dollar manufacturing sector—and it’s just beginning."
NVIDIA's rise stems from bold bets others either didn’t foresee or dared not make. Huang attributes this to confidence in his judgment—bolstered by a tight-knit leadership team—that lets him identify world-changing technologies. "Seeing the future and believing in an idea ultimately comes down to first-principles reasoning," he said. Huang "intuitively tests" his convictions daily.
His first major bet: traditional chip designs would fail to meet growing processor demands. NVIDIA's gaming chip architecture, he believed, could become the alternative—starting with advanced scientific computing. Years later, he doubled down by developing software to democratize access to chip capabilities. Both were costly explorations into uncharted territory with little initial demand. Only later did machine learning emerge as the perfect application. The CUDA software layer made NVIDIA chips the preferred choice for AI developers—a strategic advantage that persists today.
Jay Puri, NVIDIA's sales chief and one of Huang's closest confidants, notes that while tech visionaries abound in semiconductors, Huang's rarity lies in his willingness to bet big and stay the course. "Having a dream is one thing; executing it is another," Puri said. Once committed, Huang proves nearly impossible to divert—even when prolonged investments draw activist scrutiny.
Early investor Mike Moritz traces Huang's resolve to NVIDIA's near-bankruptcy after its first chip failed. "The resilience, perseverance and brilliance Jensen showed in saving the company were early signs of the determination that followed," he said. Relentless focus remains key. "I work from the moment I wake up until I go to sleep," Huang said. "I have no hobbies. Family comes first—everything else is work."
This intensity and hands-on engineering focus have shaped NVIDIA's uniquely flat structure, with 50-60 executives reporting directly to Huang. He rejects traditional corporate hierarchies: "Information degrades as it moves, and people lose agency." Puri adds this setup prevents silos where "people hoard information for power."
Huang calls this model the foundation of NVIDIA's resilient "family" culture—though he's also known for publicly chastising executives. He defends this as intentional: private praise and public criticism, he argues, get management backwards. "When something’s wrong, say it out loud so everyone learns," he said, treating emotional displays as mere engineering calibrations. For recipients, however, the experience differs. "When he’s emotional, the intensity feels personal," Puri said. "But it’s not—he’s just intensely focused on solving the problem."
On AI's future, Huang rejects Silicon Valley orthodoxies. Where tech elites split between "doomers" fearing AI apocalypse and "accelerationists" pushing for superintelligence, Huang dismisses both. He scoffs at predictions of mass unemployment—AI automates tasks, not jobs, he argues. Similarly, he has no patience for futurist musings about intelligence surpassing humans. "The roadmap to ill-defined AGI is unclear," he said. "I don’t even think it matters." Instead, he frames AI's next phase as an engineering challenge—improving technologies like ChatGPT for broader adoption. "AI isn’t just chatbots," he said. "It spans industries globally. The chance AI won’t drive massive productivity gains is very low."
This pragmatic vision seems mundane next to Elon Musk’s sci-fi fantasies of space colonies and robot armies. Huang makes no apologies. "I try to stay away from science fiction," he said. "Speculating about AI’s future isn’t helpful—it leads to over- or under-investment. I strive to stay grounded."
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