In the corridors of modern capitalism, the loudest applause is reserved for those who sell the most – land, ideas, products, or even national assets. Yet the true measure of a nation’s prosperity is not in what it sells but in what it owns – the industries it controls, the technologies it builds, the natural resources it protects, and the intellectual capital it retains. Real wealth, whether personal or national, lies not in transaction but in ownership.
Let’s face it – India has been a vibrant marketplace for decades. We have mastered the art of selling. We sell our labour to the Gulf, our software to the West, our startups to global investors, and our minerals to foreign corporations. But what do we truly own? The answer is sobering: not nearly enough.
Between 2014 and 2024, India received over $640 billion in foreign direct investment (FDI) – an impressive figure that fuels headlines about India’s rise as a global economic power. But peel away the glamour and you’ll find that much of this capital has not built Indian ownership – it has transferred it. When multinational giants control everything from our e-commerce platforms to our data centers, we risk becoming tenants in our own digital economy.
Take the case of Flipkart, once hailed as India’s homegrown answer to Amazon. Founded with Indian grit and creativity, it was eventually sold to Walmart in a $16 billion deal in 2018. The founders became wealthy overnight, the media celebrated the ‘success story,’ and yet, India lost ownership of one of its most promising retail ecosystems. The profits now flow to Bentonville, Arkansas – not Bengaluru.
Similarly, Byju’s, Zomato, and Paytm, despite their Indian branding, are deeply entangled in foreign investment structures. Their controlling interests, at times, rest outside India’s borders. So while we boast of ‘Indian unicorns,’ the horns are often gilded with foreign gold.
Selling, when glorified, becomes an illusion of progress. It creates temporary wealth – a liquidity high that vanishes once the deal closes. The true power remains with the buyer, who acquires assets, data, or intellectual property that continue to appreciate long after the seller has spent the profits.
Consider the story of India’s natural resources. We are among the top five producers of bauxite, iron ore, and coal globally. Yet much of our mining output is exported in raw form, with little value addition. In 2023 alone, India exported $2.4 billion worth of iron ore – raw material that China refines into steel and sells back to us at a multiple. We sell our earth cheap and buy it back expensive. That is not wealth creation; that is economic servitude disguised as trade.
Ownership of processing, refining, and manufacturing capacity would transform that equation. China’s model offers a stark contrast. In the 1980s, China was the world’s assembly line for Western products. Today, it owns the entire supply chain – from raw materials to finished goods, from design patents to logistics networks. That ownership has translated into resilience, power, and global influence.
The story repeats itself in India’s agricultural heartland. A farmer who owns an acre of fertile land is, in essence, a micro-entrepreneur – the custodian of a productive asset. But rising debt, unpredictable markets, and corporate farming models are eroding that ownership. In states like Maharashtra and Punjab, over 85% of farmers own less than 2 hectares, and many are being pushed to lease or sell their land to survive.
As ownership fragments, so does dignity. A farmer who loses land becomes a labourer on his own soil – a citizen reduced from producer to participant. The same applies to our fisheries, forests, and even our urban homes, where rising property prices ensure that ownership remains a privilege, not a right.
India produces over 1.5 million engineers every year – the largest tech talent pool in the world. Yet, most of this intellectual power is leased out to global corporations through outsourcing contracts. We create the code, they own the product. We solve their problems, they own the patents.
The United States and Europe thrive not because their people work harder, but because they own the intellectual property that defines the digital age. Google, Apple, Microsoft, and Meta are trillion-dollar companies because they own – not because they sell. Every Indian coder who contributes to their systems adds value to foreign-owned wealth.
When we celebrate “Make in India,” we must also insist on “Own in India.” Without ownership, manufacturing is just assembly. Without intellectual property, innovation is just labour.
True wealth creation lies in owning assets that generate recurring value. Nations that own their technology, their data, their infrastructure, and their natural resources wield power far beyond GDP numbers.
Japan, for example, owns some of the world’s most valuable industrial patents and maintains strong domestic control over its manufacturing giants like Toyota and Sony. Despite limited natural resources, it remains an economic powerhouse because it owns what it builds.
In contrast, nations that overemphasize selling – like many in Latin America that relied on exporting oil, copper, or soybeans – have remained trapped in cycles of boom and bust. When global prices fall, their economies collapse. Ownership protects against volatility; selling magnifies it.
India stands at a critical juncture. With a $4 trillion economy and the world’s largest youth population, we have the potential to own the next era of growth. But that will require a mental shift from celebrating exits to celebrating endurance.
We must build Indian-controlled companies in strategic sectors – energy, defence, semiconductors, and AI – where national ownership ensures national sovereignty. We must encourage policies that reward Indian investors for holding long-term stakes rather than quick-flip profits. We must build sovereign wealth funds that invest Indian savings into Indian innovation.
Even culturally, we must rethink success. Selling a company should not be the ultimate badge of honour. Building one that sustains for generations – like Tata, Infosys, or Amul – is.
Finally, ownership without use is dormant capital. India owns vast tracts of government land, yet much of it lies unused. We have public sector assets, water bodies, and digital infrastructure that can be revitalized for the public good. The wealth we fail to use is the wealth we silently lose. Ownership, when responsibly used, serves that purpose.
The day India begins to value ownership over transaction, permanence over profit, and self-reliance over dependence, we will move from being a marketplace to being a maker of destiny.
Because real wealth isn’t what we sell to the world – it’s what we build, own, and use to make the world better.
That is the wealth worth having. That is the India worth building.
