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  • Mark Zuckerberg, Priscilla Chan, and Alex Rives on CZI Biohub, Open-Source AI, and Building World Models of Biology to Cure All Disease

    Mark Zuckerberg, Priscilla Chan, and AI researcher Alex Rives sat down with the No Priors podcast to explain why CZI Biohub became the primary focus of their philanthropy, why they committed $500 million to a virtual biology initiative, and why they are giving the resulting AI models away as open source instead of building a company. The conversation moves from a goal that Nobel laureates once laughed at, curing, preventing, and managing all disease by the end of the century, to a concrete technical strategy: build world models of biology layer by layer, from proteins to cells to whole systems, and put them in every scientist’s hands.

    TLDW

    This is the clearest public articulation yet of how the Chan Zuckerberg Initiative thinks about AI and biology. The throughline starts a decade ago when Zuckerberg and Chan asked scientists how to cure all disease and learned the real bottleneck was tooling, siloed labs, and unshared knowledge, not a lack of ambition. That insight produced the Human Cell Atlas, the CELLxGENE annotation tool, and a corpus of single-cell transcriptomics that large language models could finally make sense of. Now Biohub couples a frontier AI lab with frontier wet-lab biology under one roof across San Francisco, New York, and Chicago, organized around the virtual biology initiative and the long-term goal of a virtual cell. Alex Rives, the AI researcher behind the ESM protein language models, walks through their newly released ESM-based world model of protein biology: trained on billions of protein sequences, it predicts atomic-resolution structures blazingly fast, folded over 1.1 billion proteins, designs novel proteins and single-chain antibodies as an emergent property, and found nanomolar binders in a single 96-well plate. The discussion covers mechanistic interpretability as a way to extract genuinely new biological knowledge, personalized medicine driven by understanding the chain from gene variant to protein to disease, predicting off-target toxicity before human trials, rare-disease patient organizing, the baby KJ CRISPR case, biosafety tradeoffs of open source, talent and why frontier biology plus frontier AI is a recruiting moat, and what success looks like five years out.

    Thoughts

    The most important claim in this conversation is also the easiest to miss because it is delivered casually: protein design is an emergent property of a model that was never asked to design proteins. Rives is explicit that they did not build a model for antibodies and did not build a model to bind a particular target. They built a model that understands proteins, trained on raw sequence with a next-token objective, and protein design, structure prediction, and antibody generation fell out of it. That is the language-model bet transplanted into biology, and the fact that it produced nanomolar binders, the threshold for actual therapeutic activity, in a single 96-well plate rather than a high-throughput screen of millions is the kind of result that quietly resets what a small team can attempt. If that generalizes, the binding curve for “design a molecule” bends the same way the cost curve for “write working code” did.

    What makes the strategy coherent, rather than just a well-funded AI lab, is the insistence that the wet lab and the AI lab are a single effort. Most of biology’s useful data does not exist on the internet the way human language does. You cannot pay a factory to produce it. Someone has to invent the cellular engineering in New York, the inflammation-sensing devices in Chicago, the translucent-zebrafish imaging, and that is the actual product of frontier biology: new instruments that generate data nobody has ever seen, which in turn make new classes of models possible. This is the part venture-backed competitors will struggle to replicate, because it requires patience measured in 10 to 15 year horizons and a willingness to spend on data generation that has no business model attached. Zuckerberg is almost dismissive about it, noting they could probably run it as a business but that not having to think about monetization is strategically simplifying. The nonprofit structure is not charity window-dressing here. It is what lets them release the models as an open discovery engine and harness the entire academic and biotech field rather than competing with it.

    The mechanistic interpretability thread deserves more attention than it will get. Interpretability has mostly been a safety and alignment story for language models, a way to peer inside the black box and check that the representations match our understanding of the world. Rives flips it: the protein models have been trained on both known and unknown biology, billions of sequences including proteins we understand nothing about, and they are building representations that connect the unknown proteins to the known ones through an underlying structural grammar. The promise is that interpretability becomes a discovery tool, not just an audit tool. You open the box and find biology the field has not characterized yet, the mechanism of action for a treatment, a system in the body nobody mapped. That is a fundamentally more optimistic use of the same toolkit, and it is the part of the launch Sarah Guo and Elad Gil both flag as the most interesting.

    Chan’s framing of personalized medicine is worth sitting with because it reframes the entire goal away from “cure disease X.” She wants to treat the individual as an individual: understand this person’s genetics, their risk profile, the mechanistic chain from a specific gene variant through a protein to a disease process, and then design a drug bespoke to them. The current reality she describes, sitting in PubMed reading a paper’s supplement asking “am I represented in this cohort,” guessing whether a drug that kind of impacts a pathway that is probably implicated might do something, is a brutal and accurate picture of how non-standard cases are actually handled today. The vision is generalizable tools delivering personalized answers, which is the same put-the-tool-in-the-individual’s-hands philosophy Zuckerberg applies to open-source AI and, by his own analogy, to social media. Whether you find that analogy reassuring or not, the consistency of the worldview is real: they genuinely do not believe in a central super-intelligence solving science, and the whole architecture follows from that.

    The honest gap they name is the clinic. Chan is candid that the science will start moving fast but that translating to patients requires changing how clinical research itself works, and that part is still shaping up. The most interesting near-term lever is not a virtual FDA trial but the recruitment and economics flip for rare disease: patient groups self-organizing registries, biobanks, and natural-history studies, compressing timelines from decades to a handful of years, paired with models that lower the cost of generating a candidate. The baby KJ case, a custom CRISPR therapeutic to edit a single mutation, delivered to liver cells specifically because that target was deliverable, is the proof of concept for why disease selection and delivery creativity matter as much as the molecule. The molecule is becoming the cheap part. The rest of the chain is where the next decade of work actually sits.

    Key Takeaways

    • CZI Biohub is now the primary philanthropic focus of the Chan Zuckerberg Initiative, a shift the team formalized in the past year.
    • They committed $500 million to the virtual biology initiative, the unifying theme across the Biohubs.
    • The original goal, set roughly 10 years ago, was to cure, prevent, and manage all disease by the end of the century. Zuckerberg now thinks “end of the century” is too conservative.
    • Nobel Prize winning scientists initially laughed at the all-disease ambition. When pressed for why it was impossible, the real answers were silos, locked-up unpublished information, and the inability to build shared tools.
    • The recurring example: a postdoc builds a great tool, it lives on their computer, they graduate, and the tool is gone. Shared, durable tooling was the missing layer.
    • CZI is explicit that they are not the ones who will cure diseases. Their role is building tools that accelerate the entire scientific field so the field collectively cures them.
    • The first request for application was single-cell sequencing, funding methods so scientists could share how to do it.
    • That work led to funding the Human Cell Atlas, now one of the largest databases of single-cell transcriptomics.
    • They built CELLxGENE, a simple annotation tool, around which a community formed and contributed data CZI had nothing to do with creating. It is now a corpus underpinning many transcriptomic models.
    • Critics called the data gathering “stamp collecting.” The arrival of large language models, which can make sense of large amounts of data, answered that critique.
    • The ambition is to move biology from a discovery-based science to an engineering-based science, systematically understanding how living cells work and why things go wrong.
    • Biohub couples a frontier AI lab with a frontier biology effort. Unlike language models, biology lacks abundant internet-scale data, so new science is required to generate the data the models need.
    • The Biohubs are specialized: New York focuses on cellular engineering, Chicago builds devices to measure things like inflammation, plus imaging work and translucent-zebrafish development studies.
    • Alex Rives, who built the ESM protein language models and founded EvolutionaryScale after working at Meta FAIR, now leads the AI effort. The team raised venture capital before joining CZI’s nonprofit structure.
    • The strategy is hierarchical: model proteins first, then cells, then whole systems, because you cannot understand cells without understanding protein interactions.
    • They collect data strategically to bridge across the hierarchy, for example spatial transcriptomics showing where RNA localizes within a cell, and sensors that observe cell-to-cell communication.
    • The newly released ESM-based model is a world model of protein biology, trained on billions of protein sequences, predicting atomic-resolution structure extremely fast at a Pareto-optimal frontier of speed and accuracy.
    • They folded over 1.1 billion proteins and predicted their structures, identifying connecting features through mechanistic interpretability.
    • The model hits state of the art on structure prediction benchmarks, especially protein-protein and protein-antibody interactions, which are critical for therapeutic design.
    • Protein and antibody design are emergent properties. They designed a model to understand proteins, not to bind any specific target, and design capability fell out of it.
    • In one experiment, they selected from hundreds of thousands of digital trajectories, synthesized 96 proteins in a single well plate, and found nanomolar binders, the threshold for therapeutic activity.
    • Results were validated with the Biohub’s cryo-EM microscopes and structural biology center, confirming function and atomic-resolution binding interfaces.
    • Mechanistic interpretability is reframed as a discovery tool: open the black box to find biology nobody has characterized, not just to audit the model.
    • Chan’s vision of personalized medicine: understand a person’s genetics, the mechanistic chain from gene variant to protein to disease, then design a bespoke drug and intervene.
    • A comprehensive model of how cells work could predict off-target effects, like a receptor on kidney cells causing renal toxicity, before human trials.
    • They study systems rather than individual diseases. Inflammation is a major Chicago focus because it connects to many diseases.
    • A typical drug trial runs about 15 years and $1.5 billion. Only roughly $50 million is the molecule and preclinical work. The other $1.45 billion is drug development, much of it gated on regulation, recruitment, and failures from toxicity or absorption.
    • The baby KJ case at CHOP delivered a custom CRISPR therapeutic to edit a single mutation, chosen carefully because his liver cells were a deliverable target.
    • CZI’s “Rare As One” program supports rare-disease patient groups self-organizing registries, biobanks, and even their own clinical trials, compressing gene-therapy timelines from decades to 3 to 5 years.
    • Letting people opt in to frontier trials, while preserving historical vetting for the general population, is named as a key shift that could accelerate biology.
    • The open-source philosophy mirrors Zuckerberg’s broader ethos: empower individuals with tools rather than centralizing power in a few institutions or a single super-intelligence.
    • Biosafety is acknowledged as a real consideration that open-source biology will need to balance and handle carefully.
    • On talent: AI researchers could join any frontier lab, but no other organization pairs frontier biology with frontier AI, which is the recruiting moat.
    • You do not need a huge team. Zuckerberg argues real AI progress can come from a strong group of a dozen or a couple dozen people.
    • Researchers have been connecting the released model to agentic systems to automate the entire protein design process.
    • The next big challenge is the virtual cell: a system that models the proteomic, genetic, and transcriptomic layers and connects them to phenotype, generalizing to interventions it was never trained on.
    • Like every lab, Biohub is compute and data constrained, constantly deciding whether to double down on proteins or push further into cellular work.
    • Five-year success: a hierarchical set of world models of biology and doing the highest-quality, uniquely contributive work in the world, a setup the team believes no other organization has.
    • The biggest update of the past year: formalizing Biohub as the philanthropy’s core, and flipping leadership from biologists interested in technology to an AI researcher with a biology background.
    • Zuckerberg’s read on the broader industry: the exponential curve is on track and still accelerating, which validates making a very big long-term investment.

    Detailed Summary

    From “cure all disease” to a tooling problem

    The origin story is a decade old. Zuckerberg and Chan wanted to build an organization that could cure, prevent, and manage all disease by the end of the century, and a series of meetings with famous, Nobel Prize winning scientists produced laughter rather than encouragement. Instead of retreating, they kept asking why it was impossible. The answers, once scientists relented, were not about biology being too hard. They were about how science is organized: researchers work in silos, published information gets locked up for long periods, and there is no good way to build and share durable tools. The image that stuck was a postdoc building an excellent tool that lives on a single computer and vanishes when that person graduates. The bottleneck was infrastructure and shared knowledge, and that is where CZI decided it could contribute.

    The path from single-cell sequencing to a world model

    The original Biohub model brought engineers and scientists together across universities for long-term tool development, and it worked. CZI’s first request for application targeted single-cell sequencing, funding the methods so scientists could share how to read the RNA transcribed in individual cells. That seeded the Human Cell Atlas, now one of the largest single-cell transcriptomics databases. When annotation became a bottleneck, CZI built CELLxGENE, a simple annotation tool, and a community formed around it and contributed data CZI never funded. Critics dismissed it as stamp collecting, gathering bits of data without extracting wisdom. Then large language models arrived and demonstrated they could make sense of exactly that kind of large-scale data, and Chan describes the delight of realizing the missing engine had appeared.

    Frontier AI married to frontier biology

    The unifying theme is the virtual biology initiative, and the structural insight is that the AI effort and the wet-lab effort are a single integrated organization, not two collaborating ones. Biology lacks the internet-scale data that language models enjoy. You cannot buy the data from a factory. So Biohub invents the science that generates it: cellular engineering in New York to record what happens inside the body, devices in Chicago to measure inflammation, imaging to visualize the previously invisible, and translucent zebrafish to watch development unfold across cells as the brain forms. Each new instrument creates a new dataset, which enables a new class of model. Rives, who built the ESM models and founded EvolutionaryScale before joining, frames this as the start of a new era of science, where systems that predict the next token can learn world models of biology from the data, provided you build at the right scale with the right people.

    Building biology hierarchically

    The team is deliberate that each layer of biology is qualitatively different and must be built up in order. You cannot jump to cells without understanding protein interactions, and you cannot model the immune system without first understanding cells. So the approach starts with the building blocks, the proteins, and ladders upward. The advantage of a single integrated effort is the ability to gather data that connects the hierarchy: spatial transcriptomics that show where RNA localizes inside a cell, sensors that capture cell-to-cell communication, developmental imaging in zebrafish. That connective tissue is what lets the modeling generalize across levels. The interviewer, a former wet-lab biologist with a PhD, notes that the reductionist and systems camps of biology historically never worked together deeply, and that bridging them is one of the genuinely novel things about the effort.

    The ESM-based protein world model

    The launch at the center of the conversation, roughly a week old at recording, is an open system for scientific discovery in protein biology: a language-model-based world model trained on billions of protein sequences. It learns emergent representations of protein biology and predicts atomic-resolution structure at blazing speed, sitting on a Pareto-optimal frontier of speed and accuracy. They folded over 1.1 billion proteins and used mechanistic interpretability to identify features connecting them. It reaches state of the art across structure-prediction benchmarks, with particular strength on protein-protein and protein-antibody interactions that matter for therapeutics. The headline result: they used the model to design proteins and single-chain antibodies digitally, selected from hundreds of thousands of trajectories, synthesized just 96 in a single well plate, and found nanomolar binders, replacing high-throughput screens of millions of antibodies. Validation came from the Biohub’s cryo-EM structural biology center, confirming both function and the atomic-resolution binding interfaces.

    Interpretability as discovery, and personalized medicine

    Rives reframes mechanistic interpretability, usually aimed at language models, as a way to extract new biological knowledge. The protein models are trained on both known and unknown biology and develop representations that connect uncharacterized proteins to understood ones through an underlying structural grammar. Opening that black box could reveal systems in the body or mechanisms of action for treatments that the field has never mapped. Chan connects this to a personalized-medicine vision: understand an individual’s genetics and the mechanistic chain from gene variant to protein to disease, then design a bespoke intervention. She contrasts it with today’s reality of reading PubMed supplements and guessing whether you are represented in a study cohort. For some diseases, simply knowing which gene variants cause disease is already empowering. For others, the chain is understood and the missing piece is the ability to change a protein’s function, which is where designed proteins could actually cure.

    Drug development, off-target effects, and rare disease

    The interviewers press on translation, noting a typical trial runs 15 years and $1.5 billion, with only about $50 million in the molecule and preclinical work and the rest in development gated on regulation, recruitment, toxicity, and absorption failures. Chan’s hope is that comprehensive cell models predict off-target effects, like an unanticipated receptor on kidney cells causing renal toxicity, before human trials. They study systems such as inflammation and the immune system rather than chasing individual diseases. The baby KJ case at CHOP, a custom CRISPR therapeutic editing a single mutation delivered to liver cells, illustrates how careful disease and delivery selection unlocks first applications. The “Rare As One” program shows rare-disease patient groups self-organizing registries, biobanks, and trials, compressing timelines from decades to a few years, and the molecule becoming cheap flips the economics of the long tail of niche diseases.

    Open source, talent, and the five-year view

    Zuckerberg ties the open-source posture to a consistent worldview: empower individuals with tools rather than centralizing intelligence in a few institutions. He does not believe in a single super-intelligence solving all of science, and sees decentralization, the same instinct behind giving people a voice, as how progress is historically made, with biosafety as a real tradeoff to manage. On talent, the pitch is that frontier biology attached to frontier AI is work you cannot do anywhere else, and that meaningful progress needs only a dozen or two dozen strong people, not thousands. Researchers are already wiring the model into agentic systems to automate design. The next frontier is the virtual cell, modeling proteomic, genetic, and transcriptomic layers and connecting them to phenotype with enough generality to answer untrained questions. Five years out, success is a hierarchical set of world models and doing uniquely high-quality work, with Chan adding that the teams are now “arms linked,” directed and interlocked rather than merely moving in the same direction.

    Notable Quotes

    “We didn’t design a model for antibodies. We didn’t design a model to be able to bind one particular target. We just designed a model that could understand proteins.”

    Alex Rives, on protein design emerging from a general model

    “The theory isn’t that we’re going to cure the diseases. We’re not. It’s that we want to help accelerate the pace of progress for the whole scientific field.”

    Mark Zuckerberg, on why CZI builds tools rather than cures

    “My goal is to be able to treat the individual as an individual, understand the mechanisms and be able to intervene.”

    Priscilla Chan, on the vision for personalized medicine

    “It’s not just like there’s some factory somewhere that you can pay to produce the data. You actually need to invent new novel scientific approaches.”

    Mark Zuckerberg, on why frontier biology has to generate its own data

    “If we could design a protein to actually change the physiology, then we can actually cure someone.”

    Priscilla Chan, on the payoff of protein design

    “You open up the black box and you can actually understand the biology that the model is representing.”

    Alex Rives, on mechanistic interpretability as a discovery tool

    “We don’t believe in this like very centralized future where there should be a small number of institutions that basically are advancing all this stuff.”

    Mark Zuckerberg, on the open-source ethos behind Biohub

    “Before we had amazing teams moving generally in the same direction. But now we are arms linked moving together.”

    Priscilla Chan, on how the Biohub teams now operate under Alex Rives

    Watch the full conversation with Mark Zuckerberg, Priscilla Chan, and Alex Rives on the No Priors podcast here.

    Related Reading

    • CZI Biohub Network the official program page for the San Francisco, New York, and Chicago Biohubs discussed throughout.
    • EvolutionaryScale Alex Rives’s lab and the home of the ESM protein language models behind the world model in this conversation.
    • Human Cell Atlas the single-cell transcriptomics effort CZI funded that became foundational to modern cell modeling.
    • AlphaFold (Wikipedia) background on the protein-folding breakthrough referenced as an early proof that structure prediction was tractable at scale.
    • Rare As One CZI’s program supporting patient-led rare-disease research organizations described near the end of the talk.

  • Dario Amodei on Policy for the AI Exponential: Anthropic’s Plan for AI Regulation, Job Displacement, Civil Liberties, and Democratic Leadership

    In June 2026, Anthropic CEO Dario Amodei published “Policy on the AI Exponential”, a wide-ranging essay arguing that the gap between how fast AI is advancing and how slowly policy moves has become dangerous, and that the window to close it is open right now. He opens with a memorable image from The Lord of the Rings: the Hobbits trying to rouse Treebeard, the ancient tree who takes a full day just to say hello, to defend his forest before it is cut down. That mismatch in speed, he writes, is exactly the relationship between AI and our political institutions. This post breaks the essay down in full and adds analysis of where the argument lands.

    TLDR

    Amodei argues that AI’s scaling laws point toward “powerful AI,” a country of geniuses in a datacenter, within a few years, while legislation still moves on a timescale of years. For most of the last few years, safety advocates including Anthropic pushed only for optionality-preserving moves like transparency rules, chip export controls, and labor data collection, because the risks were not yet concrete. He says that has changed: events like Claude Mythos Preview proved frontier models are now tools of national strategic consequence, and the time for binding regulation has arrived. The essay covers five policy areas. First, regulation and public safety, where he proposes an FAA-style regime of mandatory third-party testing of frontier models above a compute threshold across four risks (cybersecurity, biological weapons, loss of control, and automated R&D), with government power to block unsafe deployments. Second, macroeconomics and tax policy, where AI could deliver hypergrowth and severe, enduring job displacement at the same time, demanding measurement, pro-employment incentives, and possibly UBI or universal capital accounts. Third, accelerating AI’s positive impact, where the danger is regulators like the FDA being too slow rather than too lax, and biomedical approval needs reform. Fourth, the state and civil liberties, where AI could become the ultimate tool of autocracy through autonomous weapons and mass surveillance, requiring new accountability rules, a domestic ban on autonomous weapons, closing the data broker loophole, and public rights to AI advice. Fifth, securing leadership by democracies through a values-based global coalition that controls the AI supply chain, coordinates on risk, shares benefits, and rejects AI-powered repression. He closes by rejecting the idea that public concern about AI is a PR problem to be marketed away, calling it democratic accountability working as it should.

    Thoughts

    The most important move in this essay is structural, not technical. Amodei is explicitly retiring the “preserve optionality” posture that defined Anthropic’s policy work through 2025 and replacing it with a call for binding rules. For years the argument from safety-minded labs was that the risks were too speculative to legislate against without doing more harm than good, an idea he grounds in the Collingridge dilemma and the Hayekian point that regulators lack the information to make good calls. That was a defensible hedge. What is striking here is the claim that the hedge has expired. He is saying the evidence is now concrete enough that continued caution about regulating has flipped from prudent to negligent. Whether you trust the underlying capability claims or not, that is a genuine change in position from one of the field’s most influential voices, and it deserves to be read as such.

    The FAA analogy is doing enormous work, and it is worth poking at. Airplanes and drugs are mature technologies with stable physics and decades of incident data; the certification regime works because the failure modes are well understood. Frontier models are the opposite: the whole premise of the essay is that capabilities are changing faster than anyone can characterize them. Amodei half-acknowledges this when he warns that a fixed list of safety requirements tends to consume 95 percent of compliance effort on things that turn out not to matter while missing the real risks, a lesson he says Anthropic learned from its own Responsible Scaling Policy. So the proposal is really for an agency nimble enough to rewrite its own standards continuously, which is a much taller order than the FAA. The honest read is that he is proposing a regulator we do not yet know how to build, and betting that building it is still better than the alternative.

    The economics section is where Amodei is most careful, and it is the part most likely to be misread. He goes out of his way to say enduring job displacement is undesirable and that warning about it is not the same as wanting it, a distinction critics of AI leaders often collapse. His real claim is subtle: that AI might jam the economic policy dial on a “hypergrowth, hyper-inequality” setting that is hard to unstick, because AI substitutes for human cognition broadly and faster than past technologies, potentially overwhelming the usual escape hatches like comparative advantage and Jevons paradox. If he is right, the political fight of the next decade is not about growth, which AI supplies, but about distribution, which it does not. His mention of UBI, universal capital accounts, and higher capital gains taxes is notable coming from a frontier CEO, even hedged as it is.

    The civil liberties section is the one that should travel furthest beyond the AI-policy bubble, because it does not depend on accepting his most aggressive timelines. The data broker loophole, the idea that the government can simply buy the bulk data Americans hand to private companies and run mass analysis on it, is a problem that exists today; AI just raises the stakes by making that data vastly more revealing. Same with the proposal that anyone facing adverse government action should have access to AI at least as capable as what the government uses against them. These are concrete, near-term, and bipartisan in a way the abstract autonomy debates are not. The most candid line in the whole piece is his admission that AI cannot be safely entrusted to either governments or companies, an unusually direct acknowledgment that his own industry needs external checks, with Anthropic’s Long-Term Benefit Trust offered as one imperfect example rather than a solution.

    The geopolitics section is the most contested terrain. Framing AI as a nuclear-scale reset of the game board, with a virtual country of 100 million geniuses divisible across military strategy and weapons R&D, leads naturally to a democratic coalition that hoards chips and denies them to adversaries. That logic is internally consistent, but it sits in tension with the benefit-sharing and “eventually the whole world joins” language elsewhere in the same section. Export controls that lock down the supply chain are, by design, a tool of exclusion, and reconciling that with broad diffusion of AI’s benefits to developing countries is the circle the coalition idea has to square. Amodei is clearly aware of the tension and bets that making membership attractive resolves it. The closing image is the one to remember: Treebeard waking up, with the warning that the goal is to channel real public concern into constructive policy rather than let it curdle into formless anger.

    Key Takeaways

    • The core tension of the essay is a mismatch in speed: AI advances exponentially while legislation moves on a multi-year timescale, dramatized by the Treebeard and Hobbits image from The Lord of the Rings.
    • In only four years, AI models went from barely writing a coherent line of code to writing most of the code at major AI companies, with similar gains across biology, physics, math, finance, law, and translation.
    • Scaling laws now have over a decade of empirical support, and if they continue another year or two they likely produce “powerful AI,” a country of geniuses in a datacenter.
    • For the last few years, safety advocates including Anthropic focused on optionality-preserving policies: transparency legislation, chip export controls, and data collection on AI’s labor effects.
    • Amodei argues that posture is no longer enough. Claude Mythos Preview revealed that frontier models pose real cybersecurity risks to the financial sector, critical infrastructure, and national security, and proved AI is now a tool of strategic consequence.
    • He expects biological risks to follow cyber risks, with serious AI autonomy risks potentially not far behind.
    • The essay covers five policy areas: regulation and public safety, macroeconomics and tax policy, accelerating AI’s positive impact, the state and civil liberties, and securing leadership by democracies.
    • Alongside the essay, Anthropic released a legislative proposal on frontier model testing and a policy framework for job displacement, both with promised financial backing.
    • On regulation, Amodei invokes the Collingridge dilemma and Hayek’s information problem to explain why pre-writing AI law in 2023 to 2024 was risky, then argues the situation has now changed.
    • Anthropic’s 2025 answer was transparency, helping pass SB 53 in California, RAISE in New York, and SB 315 in Illinois, plus advocating a federal transparency standard.
    • He now calls for binding regulation modeled on the FAA, where frontier models must pass technical testing and can have release blocked or reversed if they fail high safety standards.
    • Models above a compute threshold should face mandatory third-party testing in four areas: cybersecurity, biological weapons, loss of control of AI systems, and automated R&D that accelerates the other three.
    • Government should be able to block or deter deployment of models judged to present unacceptable risk, scoped to those four risks with protections against political favoritism.
    • Evaluation could come from a government agency or from authorized and inspected private organizations under a “regulatory markets” approach.
    • AI companies should have strong security to protect model weights, conduct regular red teaming and penetration testing, report safety incidents promptly, and work with government against major threat actors.
    • He warns a time may come when the most powerful systems resemble weaponizable nuclear materials rather than airplanes, requiring more aggressive measures, but cautions against getting ahead of present dangers.
    • On economics, AI could deliver extremely rapid growth via accelerated science and operational efficiency, supercharged by AI building better AI.
    • The same properties make AI a broad substitute for human cognition that changes the economy faster than past technologies, risking large and potentially enduring labor market disruption.
    • The feared outcome is a “hypergrowth, hyper-inequality” setting that is hard to unstick, where the challenge shifts from incentivizing growth to sharing its benefits.
    • Amodei is emphatic that enduring job displacement is undesirable and dangerous, and that he warns about it to help society adapt, not as a prophet of doom.
    • Anthropic says it works with customers to find new revenue and use cases rather than only cost cutting, and explores interaction paradigms that keep humans active alongside AI.
    • He predicts AI will enable single individuals to build billion-dollar companies, noting teams of a few people already reach hundreds of millions in revenue, while admitting significant enduring job loss may be intrinsic to the technology.
    • Any response must address both economic provision and the human need for meaning, purpose, and agency, with the latter ultimately more important and beyond what policy can directly deliver.
    • Suggested economic interventions: better measurement and tracking (governments expanding statistics beyond Anthropic’s Economic Index), pro-employment incentives, and long-term macroeconomic support.
    • Pro-employment ideas include wage insurance, retention tax incentives, workforce training grants, and employer-employee matching infrastructure.
    • If displacement is large and permanent, mechanisms like universal basic income or universal capital accounts, financed through company taxes or higher capital gains taxes, may be necessary.
    • He frames datacenter and energy-price backlash as largely a symbol of broader economic anxiety, and says AI companies should pay to absorb rate increases, a pledge Anthropic has already made.
    • For technologies accelerated by AI, the bigger risk is regulators like the FDA being too slow, not too lax, because AI may make downstream tech safer in ways that violate skeptical regulatory assumptions.
    • Biomedicine is the illustrative case: AI could flood the drug pipeline, raise effect sizes, treat previously untreatable diseases, and create whole new therapy categories, while the current FDA and EMA pipeline takes 7 to 8 years.
    • Agencies should pre-approve standards for AI methods like PD/PK modeling, toxicology prediction, dose selection, biomarker validation, synthetic control arms, and surrogate endpoints, plus more flexible accelerated-approval mechanisms.
    • On civil liberties, powerful AI in the wrong hands could be the ultimate tool of autocracy, and existing constitutional protections are not fully equipped to counter a surprise seizure of power.
    • Threats named include fully automated drone armies that obey unlawful orders and surveillance AI that infers the innermost details of every citizen’s life from widely available data.
    • Civil liberties proposals: accountability rules and an “off switch” for autonomous weapons, a domestic ban on fully autonomous weapons including in law enforcement, closing the data broker loophole, and public rights to AI advice during adverse government action.
    • Amodei warns companies as well as governments can seize quasi-state power, citing the Gilded Age and the East India Company, and says AI cannot be safely entrusted to either alone.
    • He offers Anthropic’s Long-Term Benefit Trust as one separation-of-power structure and urges the industry to explore mechanisms that go further.
    • On geopolitics, he argues AI resets the geopolitical game board like nuclear weapons, becoming the dominant source of military and economic power for any nation that holds it.
    • A nation with powerful AI versus one without it, or even one three years behind, could resemble WWII Marines facing medieval swordsmen.
    • He calls for a democratic coalition that shares chips and semiconductor manufacturing equipment internally while denying them to adversaries, citing MATCH and OVERWATCH as good first steps.
    • The coalition should coordinate risk policy, share benefits including harmonized medical approvals, provide mutual AI defense, reject AI-powered repression, and cooperate on macroeconomic stabilization.
    • He rejects the idea that AI’s image is a PR problem, arguing public concern reflects real risks and is democratic accountability working as it should, with the task being to channel it into constructive solutions.

    Detailed Summary

    The speed mismatch between AI and policy

    Amodei frames the entire essay around a single problem: AI advances at a lightning pace while policy, especially legislation, moves very slowly, often for good reasons since governments wield grave powers that should not be used hastily. He illustrates this with Treebeard, the sentient tree from The Lord of the Rings who takes a full day to say hello, as a stand-in for political institutions trying to respond to a technology that can go from amusing toy to a country of geniuses in the time it takes Congress to act. He recounts the dilemma responsible actors have faced: they could see where the exponential was headed, but to observers looking only at present capabilities, AI looked as mundane as the latest consumer app or cryptocurrency, making a laissez-faire attitude hard to argue against. The absence of AI’s radical effects, and uncertainty about their shape, made it genuinely difficult to design good policy even where the will existed.

    That uncertainty, he says, is why safety advocates limited themselves to optionality-preserving measures like transparency rules, export controls, and labor data collection. But over the last few months the evidence of AI’s power and risk has become undeniable, with Claude Mythos Preview as the emblematic example: it scrambled the global cybersecurity landscape and proved AI models are now tools of global and national strategic consequence. He expects biological and autonomy risks to follow, and argues the world must now activate its slow, rickety policy apparatus to handle risks that will compound quickly. He worries current early actions are at least a year out of step with AI’s progress, and presents the essay as an attempt to close that gap across five policy areas, focused on US policy but relevant worldwide.

    Regulation and public safety: an FAA for frontier models

    Amodei opens by acknowledging the real costs of regulation: it can reduce a product’s benefits, disincentivize innovation, and suffer from the Hayekian problem that regulators lack the information for good tradeoffs, plus the Collingridge dilemma that a technology’s impacts are hard to anticipate until it is too late to manage them. In 2023 to 2024 these dynamics argued against pre-writing AI law, since the exact form of biological or autonomy risk, how to test for it, and how it would play out were all unclear, creating a high risk of low-value compliance requirements that miss the real dangers. Anthropic’s answer was transparency: requiring developers to disclose safety procedures, tests, and critical incidents, which is why it supported SB 53 in California, RAISE in New York, and SB 315 in Illinois in early 2026.

    Now, he argues, the risks are clearly here and it is time for binding regulation. His analogy is to cars, airplanes, and drugs: powerful technologies essential to the economy but capable of killing many people if designed or operated poorly. He models AI regulation on the FAA, with frontier models required to pass testing and auditing and with release blocked or reversed if they fail high safety standards. His concrete proposal: mandatory third-party testing for models above a compute threshold across cybersecurity, biological weapons, loss of control, and accelerating automated R&D; government power to block deployment of unacceptably risky models, scoped narrowly with anti-favoritism protections; evaluation by either a government agency or authorized private organizations in a regulatory-markets model; strong weight security, red teaming, and penetration testing at AI companies; and prompt reporting of safety incidents. He notes a future may arrive when systems resemble weaponizable nuclear materials and demand harsher measures, but warns against designing for dangers that have not yet emerged.

    Macroeconomics and tax policy: growth and displacement together

    Here Amodei challenges the standard premise that growth is fragile and must be traded off against the drag of taxes or deficits to reduce inequality. Powerful AI, he suggests, may scramble that assumption by producing extremely rapid growth through accelerated science and efficiency, supercharged by AI building better AI, while simultaneously acting as a broad substitute for human cognition that reshapes the economy faster than any prior technology. The result could be a world stuck on a hypergrowth, hyper-inequality setting that is hard to unstick, where the central challenge is no longer incentivizing growth but sharing its benefits. He is careful to make two points clearly: first, enduring job displacement is undesirable and dangerous and should be minimized, and his warnings are meant to help society adapt, not to play prophet of doom; second, any response must address both economic provision and the deeper human need for meaning, purpose, and agency, which matters more and which policy cannot directly supply.

    His policy menu starts with measurement and tracking, arguing good policy is impossible without accurate data, and that governments could expand economic statistics well beyond Anthropic’s Economic Index. Next come pro-employment incentives such as wage insurance, retention tax incentives, workforce training grants, and employer-employee matching, costs he says society should readily accept since they are likely offset by AI productivity gains. If displacement proves large and permanent, he says long-term income support like universal basic income or universal capital accounts may be needed, financed through taxes on relevant companies or higher capital gains taxes. He closes the section by reframing datacenter and energy-price backlash as mostly a symbol of broader economic anxiety, while saying AI companies should absorb rate increases, as Anthropic has pledged.

    Accelerating AI’s positive impact: the slow-regulator problem

    For technologies accelerated by AI, rather than AI itself, Amodei flips his concern: the bigger danger is regulatory systems designed for a slower pace failing to handle the deluge of new products, and AI making downstream technologies safer in ways that violate the skeptical assumptions baked into agencies like the FDA. He focuses on biomedicine as the area likely to produce AI’s biggest humanitarian benefits and where regulation is especially complex. AI could greatly increase the rate of new drug candidates, improve their effect sizes and safety profiles, treat previously untreatable diseases, and create entirely new therapy categories the way antibodies, peptides, and cell therapies did.

    The current pipeline at the FDA and EMA takes 7 to 8 years, built on the pessimistic assumption that drug candidates usually fail and often carry safety problems even when they work. Without reform, AI will jam or overload that system. Amodei proposes that agencies develop standards now for accepting AI simulation and analysis, so they can be adopted quickly once proven rather than after years of unnecessary testing. Specific candidates include AI-based PD/PK modeling, toxicology prediction to reduce animal testing, more accurate dose selection, biomarker validation from large datasets, synthetic control arms, and surrogate endpoints (especially for aging and neurodegeneration). He urges more flexible accelerated-approval mechanisms generally, and notes biomedical acceleration may also reduce AI’s risks by aiding biodefense and improving mental health.

    The state and civil liberties: guarding against AI-driven tyranny

    Amodei frames the perennial balance between state power and individual liberty, enforced through machinery like the First, Fourth, and Fifth Amendments, the Posse Comitatus Act, and FISA, and argues AI threatens to upset that balance while raising its stakes. Powerful AI in the wrong hands could be the ultimate tool of autocracy, because the enormous returns to intelligence combined with AI’s pace create a perfect storm for a surprise seizure of power. The danger could take many forms but shares one feature: AI conferring sudden power while routing around democratic oversight. He cites a fully automated drone army that could obey unlawful orders, where trained humans might object, and a surveillance AI that analyzes widely available information at massive scale to infer the innermost details of every citizen’s life, an ability current civil liberties law never contemplated.

    His proposals: create accountability rules for autonomous weapons so they respond to court orders, legislation, and human overseers rather than blindly following orders, possibly with a judicial finger on an off switch; ban domestic use of fully autonomous weapons, including in law enforcement, while allowing them against foreign adversaries; close the bulk-collection and data-broker loophole that lets the government buy and analyze data Americans share with private companies; and guarantee public rights to AI advice at least as capable as what the government uses during adverse action, as an extension of the Administrative Procedure Act, due process, or the Sixth Amendment. He closes by warning that companies, not just governments, can capture the state, citing the Gilded Age and East India Company, and argues AI cannot be safely entrusted to either alone. Anthropic’s Long-Term Benefit Trust is offered as one accountability structure, with a call for the industry to go further.

    Securing leadership by democracies: a values-based coalition

    Amodei rejects treating AI as a mere instrument of trade policy to diffuse a tech stack worldwide. He believes AI resets the entire geopolitical game board like nuclear weapons, potentially even more so, becoming the dominant source of military and economic power for whoever holds it. In a virtual country of 100 million geniuses, millions could be assigned to military strategy, drone manufacture, weapons R&D, intelligence, and scientific advancement at once, so a nation with powerful AI facing one without it, or even three years behind, could be like WWII Marines against medieval swordsmen. Because powerful AI also enables deeper autocratic repression, it matters enormously that the world’s strongest nations are democracies.

    His answer is a global coalition built on shared democratic values that draws in the rest of the world by making membership increasingly attractive and exclusion increasingly costly. Operating principles include managing the AI supply chain by sharing chips and semiconductor manufacturing equipment within the coalition while denying them to adversaries, expanding and tightening export controls (he cites MATCH and OVERWATCH as good first steps); coordinating on biological, cyber, and autonomy risk to make compliance compatible and effective; sharing AI’s benefits including harmonized medical approvals; mutual defense through collective AI cyberdefense, drones, manufacturing, compute, and intelligence; rejection of AI-powered repression; and macroeconomic cooperation against contagious employment crises. The coalition would respect each nation’s sovereignty, start with aligned democracies, and grow iteratively, ideally toward the whole world, but at minimum positioning democracies to contain and outcompete repressive regimes.

    A window of opportunity

    Amodei closes on cautious optimism. The same exponential that strains policymaking has created a unique opening: clear evidence of AI’s risks, an early taste of its value and disruption, and public backlash against unregulated approaches have left policymakers unusually open to forward-looking action. Treebeard and his forest are waking up. He firmly rejects the industry-circle view that this is a PR problem solved by better marketing, arguing people are worried because the risks are real, and that public concern in response to transparency is democratic accountability working as it should. The key challenge is focusing that concern into constructive solutions rather than letting it descend into formless anger and violence. He is optimistic because issues from job displacement to model testing to export controls have common-sense appeal across the political spectrum, and a broad nonpartisan coalition could adopt sane, forward-looking policy faster than usual.

    Notable Quotes

    “in only four years, AI models have gone from barely being able to write a coherent line of code to writing most of the code at major AI companies.”

    Dario Amodei, on the pace of the AI exponential

    “in the several years that it can take Congress to act, AI can go from an amusing toy to the full country of geniuses.”

    Dario Amodei, on the mismatch between AI’s speed and the speed of legislation

    “However, now the risks are clearly here. It is time to go beyond transparency to more serious and binding regulation of AI.”

    Dario Amodei, marking the shift from transparency to binding rules

    “enduring job displacement is undesirable and dangerous, and we should do everything we can to minimize or prevent it, not to bring it about.”

    Dario Amodei, clarifying his stance on AI and jobs

    “The key challenge in such a world won’t be incentivizing growth, but finding a way for everyone to share in the benefits.”

    Dario Amodei, on a hypergrowth, hyper-inequality economy

    “Powerful AI in the wrong hands could be the ultimate tool of autocracy, and our existing legal and constitutional protections are not fully equipped to counter this threat.”

    Dario Amodei, on AI and civil liberties

    “A nation that possesses powerful AI facing one without it … could be the equivalent of an army of World War II Marines facing an army of medieval swordsmen.”

    Dario Amodei, on AI as the dominant source of geopolitical power

    “People are worried about AI because they correctly perceive that its risks are real, not because AI CEOs have been insufficiently Panglossian.”

    Dario Amodei, rejecting the idea that AI has a PR problem

    “Treebeard and his forest are waking up.”

    Dario Amodei, on policymakers’ new openness to acting on AI

    “Policy on the AI Exponential” is a dense, structured argument from one of the most consequential figures in the field, and it rewards a full read in the original. The summary and analysis above are a guide, not a substitute. You can read the full essay here.

    Related Reading

  • Bill Gurley on Mental Models, Systems Thinking, AI Investing, Stablecoins, and the Future of Venture Capital

    Bill Gurley spent his career at Benchmark backing some of the most consequential marketplaces and network-effect businesses of the internet era, including Uber, and he is one of the few investors who pairs deep Wall Street fundamentals with a real feel for the bleeding edge. In this wide-ranging conversation on Shane Parrish’s The Knowledge Project, he lays out the mental models he keeps returning to, how systems thinking keeps you out of trouble, why the history of your field is a hidden superpower, where AI investing is headed, and how stablecoins and tokenization could quietly rewire finance. It is a masterclass in thinking clearly about complex systems while staying obsessively curious about what is happening on the edge.

    TLDW

    Gurley anchors his thinking in systems thinking and complexity theory, warning that multivariable nonlinear systems produce second and third order consequences that punish anyone who optimizes for a single metric. He argues that mastering both the deep history of your field and its newest edge is wildly differentiating, whether you are interviewing for a marketing job or breaking into venture capital. On AI he is measured: he doubts a single model eats every vertical, sees real moats in workflows and proprietary data, flags that we may be painting in the corners on training data, and explains why Chinese open source models may innovate faster because forced knowledge sharing compounds. He thinks the AI buildout looks overfunded and that circular deals both raise the odds of an eventual correction and delay it. He makes the case that the IPO process is a rigged power grab, that stablecoins and instant payments threaten Visa, Mastercard, and the entire 2 to 3 percent credit card stack, and that proxy advisors like ISS have drifted from shareholder interest into a black-box heist. He closes on the craft of storytelling and writing as thinking, the equal-partnership design of Benchmark, why venture bends toward youth, and what success means now that his dream job is behind him.

    Thoughts

    The most useful idea in this conversation is also the quietest one: most bad decisions are not bad in the moment, they are bad in the second derivative. Gurley’s dating-site story, where lengthening profiles raised engagement in the test and then quietly killed conversion months later, is the whole argument in miniature. A linear model would have shipped that change and called it a win. A systems thinker assumes the variable you optimized is connected to three others you cannot see yet, and waits to find out. That posture, refusing to get deterministic about a single metric, is the difference between a clever experiment and a durable business. It is also the most transferable thing in the episode, because it applies to product changes, hiring, policy, and your own career just as cleanly as it applies to a dating app.

    His pairing of old and new is the second idea worth stealing. Everyone in tech tells you to live on the edge, and Gurley agrees, he keeps five premium AI accounts running so he never misses a release. But he insists the edge is only half of it. Knowing the deep history of your field, the masters of marketing, the forefathers of physics, the classic cartoons that taught animation, is rare enough that it instantly creates contrast and signals genuine passion. The compounding move is to hold both at once. If you understand the legends and you actually get TikTok, you are a power player in a way that someone who only knows one end of the timeline can never be. Most people pick a side. The leverage is in refusing to.

    On AI specifically, Gurley is refreshingly unwilling to pick the consensus lane in either direction. He does not buy that one near-sentient model swallows every vertical, and his reasoning is grounded rather than vibes-based: workflows and proprietary data create real switching costs, which is why he watches the legal AI startups ingesting case law and building new databases rather than assuming everyone reverts to a general chatbot. At the same time he respects the Microsoft pattern of platforms climbing the stack and crushing the apps above them. The honest answer is that it is genuinely up for grabs, and his comfort sitting in that uncertainty is itself a model. The cheap takes are “one model to rule them all” and “it is all wrappers.” Gurley holds both possibilities and keeps testing.

    The systems lens does its best work on China. Rather than moralize, Gurley runs the mechanism: roughly ten open source models, intense domestic competition, and a culture of publishing techniques and weights so every model can learn from, train, and test every other model. His two-farmer metaphor, one market where farmers only trade goods and another where they are forced to share best practices, makes the prediction obvious. Forced knowledge sharing compounds faster than secrecy. The uncomfortable corollary he names is that American startups are quietly forking those open models all over Silicon Valley, and that incumbents may be lobbying for heavy regulation precisely because it pulls up the drawbridge against open source competition. That is the systems thinker’s signature move: follow the incentives to the consequence nobody is saying out loud.

    Finally, the money section is a clinic in spotting rent extraction. The IPO process where bankers pick both the price and the favored buyers, the 2 to 3 percent credit card toll that exists for no defensible reason while the rest of the world built instant bank transfer decades ago, and the proxy advisors who score companies in a black box and then sell you the cure, are all variations on the same pattern: an intermediary that captured a choke point and defends it through regulatory capture rather than value. Gurley’s optimism is that crypto rails, stablecoins, and tokenization may finally route around these tolls the way WeChat Pay and Alipay leapfrogged cards in China. Whether or not you agree on the timeline, the analytical habit is the takeaway. When something costs far more than it should and has for decades, ask who captured the rules, and watch the edge for whoever is about to make those rules irrelevant.

    Key Takeaways

    • Systems thinking means treating the world as multivariable nonlinear systems where one variable flipping can change the entire system’s behavior, the way weather and stock markets do.
    • The real danger is second and third derivative effects, consequences that only show up much later, long after the metric you optimized looked like a win.
    • A dating site lengthened profiles because longer profiles tested as more engaging, then discovered months later it was negative for conversion, the textbook second order trap.
    • Never get too deterministic about a single metric or single variable, and always know what is actually important and what sits on top.
    • Gurley built his foundation on the canon: Peter Lynch’s One Up on Wall Street, A Random Walk Down Wall Street, the Buffett letters, Ben Graham, and Howard Marks.
    • A firm grasp of the financial bedrock is what lets you innovate on top of it, and many Silicon Valley VCs would benefit from understanding finance better.
    • Bill Miller reframed value investing as buying an asset that is underpriced relative to what you think it will be worth in the future, which is how he justified holding Amazon for its network effects.
    • Wall Street is the buyer of the product that venture capitalists create, so even at the two-people-in-a-PowerPoint stage you should ask whether the eventual public market will be excited by it.
    • Trajectory matters more than the starting place, because the trajectory is where the company actually ends up.
    • Knowing the deep history of your field is remarkably differentiating, and tedium while learning it is a signal you are in the wrong lane.
    • John Lasseter served Gurley a ten-course meal where each course was tied to a classic cartoon essential to understanding animation, a display of mastery over the history of the craft.
    • Magnus Carlsen won a trivia contest on the history of chess, and Picasso was a wildly successful realist painter by 14, both proof that the greats master the fundamentals first.
    • Obsessive, constant learning is the trait Gurley sees most in great entrepreneurs, because disruption always happens on a moving edge they need to understand at the top one percentile.
    • The compounding advantage is mastering both the old history and the new edge at once, the way understanding both marketing legends and TikTok would set you apart in any interview.
    • Most people underestimate how much AI can do, so push more of the downstream work into the prompt: identify the top ten, list pros and cons, rank them on one dimension, then another, and add up the numbers too.
    • Gurley uses ChatGPT for project structure and memory, Gemini for restaurant research powered by Google review data, and notes that coders swear by Claude while some prefer Perplexity for finance.
    • He doubts one model dominates everything; verticals like coding already let users swap models, and price optimization will push more swapping over the next few years.
    • Heavy, expensive regulation could ironically create oligopoly, and some players may be quietly begging for regulation because it pulls up the bridge against Chinese open source models.
    • China’s roughly ten open source models compete intensely and share weights and techniques, creating a system that can innovate faster, like farmers forced to share best practices instead of just trading goods.
    • A quiet secret is that startups all over Silicon Valley are forking those Chinese open source models at real volume.
    • Gurley comes down against the idea that one near-sentient model removes the need for vertical models; workflows and proprietary data, like legal startups ingesting all the case law, create durable moats.
    • We may be running out of training data, painting in the corners, which is why one of the most powerful improvements is hiring experts at thousands of dollars an hour to fine-tune the models.
    • Yann LeCun’s view is that the next leap is broader than LLMs, since language-based models hit an asymptote and are weak at math and numbers.
    • AlphaGo’s shocking move proves models can innovate beyond their training, but it lived in a constrained game; the real world has infinite paths a computer cannot exhaustively search.
    • Gurley’s non-consensus view is skepticism of the China vilification mindset, noting the US is only 3 to 5 percent of the global population and wondering how the other 95 percent hears American exceptionalism.
    • The AI buildout looks overfunded: the Magnificent Seven took free cash flow from 50 to 100 billion a year down toward zero by pouring it into capex.
    • The venture community has become more risk-seeking because it now deeply believes in increasing returns and power laws, and the pre-profit losses keep scaling, from Amazon’s 2 to 3 billion to Uber’s 15 billion to far more now.
    • Circular deals, where a cloud provider funds a model company that spends the money right back on its services, inflate growth, which both raises the probability of an eventual correction and extends the time before one hits.
    • Burn rate is a measure of risk; ten years ago a million a month was scary, now companies burn five billion a year and cannot really know their unit economics.
    • Tokenization without financial-disclosure regulation invites speculation and manipulation, which is part of why companies like Stripe stay private and negotiate liquidity prices with trusted investors.
    • The IPO process is unfair because bankers pick both the price and the shareholders; a freshman would simply match supply and demand anonymously in an auction, the way direct listings and ICOs do.
    • Stablecoins threaten the 2 to 3 percent credit card stack; USDC holds dollar-for-dollar Treasuries and rides fast global crypto rails, while US transfers still suffer three-day ACH settlement and 25 dollar wires.
    • The rest of the world built instant transfer long ago, from UK Faster Payments 20 years ago to Argentina’s PIX-style system reaching 60 to 70 percent of transactions, while US bank regulatory capture stalled Fed Now.
    • Visa and Mastercard run roughly 60 percent operating margins as a bank-created duopoly, and China leapfrogged them entirely with WeChat Pay and Alipay QR-code wallets.
    • Moody’s power is being the trusted standard, the watermark, so AI on the back end does not displace it; ISS and proxy advisors, by contrast, score companies in a black box and get paid on both sides.
    • Proxy advisors drifted from shareholder interest into a fraud-and-risk-mitigation mindset, which is why they reflexively opposed the Tesla pay package that only paid out if the stock soared.
    • The rise of passive index funds concentrated voting power in firms that lack time to evaluate votes; it would be healthier if they abstained or voted in proportion to active holders.
    • Storytelling is one of the top founder traits, because founders are recruiting, raising money, and closing customers and partners constantly, selling all the time.
    • Writing is thinking: Bezos’s six-page memo forces you to find the loose ends and tie them up, and a public blog becomes a calling card that magnetizes founders and deal flow.
    • Other founder unfair advantages are product instincts, which fewer than 5 percent of non-product people ever truly learn, and sheer determination, Bezos’s single angel-investing test of whether someone will do it no matter what.
    • Uber had no HBS case study to lean on; its winner-take-all network effects forced mega burn rates with no precedent and no mentor to call, a situation every AI company now faces.
    • Benchmark’s equal partnership, with no king, president, or lead and five equal partners, makes recruiting easy, kills comp politics, and aligns everyone, at the cost of being hard to scale or run new initiatives.
    • Venture bends toward youth because young investors can match founders’ age, master a fresh niche faster, and have the free time to study something 80 hours a week.
    • Gurley defines current success through Arthur Brooks’s From Strength to Strength, hoping to apply his synthesizing and writing skills to bigger societal problems and dent the universe a little.

    Detailed Summary

    Systems Thinking and Second Order Effects

    Gurley opens with the mental model he keeps returning to: systems thinking, shaped by Donella Meadows’s Thinking in Systems and his board seat at the Santa Fe Institute, which studies complexity theory. He describes complex systems as multivariable nonlinear systems that are very hard to predict, capable of behaving one way for a long time until a single variable flips and the whole system behaves differently, like weather or stock markets. The practical payoff is staying out of trouble by anticipating first, second, and third derivative consequences. His clearest example is a large dating site that lengthened user profiles because the test showed more engagement, only to learn many months later that knowing more at that stage was negative for conversion. The lesson is to never get too deterministic about a single metric and to keep the whole system in view, because a change here can ripple to there in ways you only discover much later.

    Learning the Craft of Investing

    Because he started on Wall Street rather than in venture, Gurley absorbed the investing canon first: Peter Lynch’s One Up on Wall Street, A Random Walk Down Wall Street, the Buffett letters, Ben Graham, and Howard Marks, people who spent careers assembling and publishing their thinking. That financial bedrock, he argues, is exactly what lets you innovate on top of it. His friend Michael Mauboussin introduced him to Bill Miller, the Legg Mason manager who beat the S&P for 15 straight years and was Amazon’s largest shareholder for a long stretch. Miller reframed value investing as buying an asset underpriced relative to its future worth, which combined with a belief in network effects justified holding a company that could grow at an unreasonable rate for years. Gurley also frames Wall Street as the buyer of the product venture capitalists create through eventual M&A or IPO, so founders should think early about whether the public market will be excited by what they are building, since trajectory matters more than the starting place.

    Mastering Both the History and the Edge

    Gurley makes an unusually strong case for studying the deep history of your field. He recounts a dinner with Pixar’s John Lasseter, who served a ten-course meal where every course was tied to a classic cartoon he considered essential to understanding animation, and notes that Magnus Carlsen won a chess-history trivia contest and Picasso was a master realist by 14. In a world that skims for the executive summary, walking into a marketing interview with command of the masters of marketing is wildly differentiating and signals genuine passion; if learning that history feels tedious, you are probably in the wrong lane. The counterpart trait he sees in great entrepreneurs is obsessive learning on the moving edge, where disruption actually happens. Gurley keeps five premium AI accounts so he never misses something. The real power player holds both at once, the legends and the newest thing, the way a candidate who knows the marketing greats and truly gets TikTok stands out completely.

    Using AI Well and the Model Wars

    People underestimate how much AI can do, Gurley says, so you should build more of the downstream work into the prompt: instead of asking for the top ten and studying them yourself, ask it to list pros and cons, rank on one dimension, rank again on another, and add up the numbers too. He uses ChatGPT for its project structure and memory, leans on Gemini for restaurant research because it carries Google review data, and notes coders swear by Claude while some prefer Perplexity for finance. On whether one model dominates or models become niche commodities, he points to coding, the largest vertical, where tools like Cursor already let users swap models, and predicts price optimization will drive more swapping. The counterforce is regulation: if it gets expensive and mundane it could create oligopoly, and some players may be quietly begging for it because it pulls up the bridge against Chinese open source models.

    China, Open Source, and the Systems Advantage

    Asked to apply systems thinking to China, Gurley describes roughly ten open source models locked in intense domestic competition, all learning from one another because the ecosystem chose openness, with models able to train and test other models and teams publishing the techniques behind their breakthroughs. His metaphor: two agricultural societies, one where farmers only trade goods at market and another where they are forced to share best practices; the second evolves far faster. The result is a system capable of innovating faster than the more secretive Western approach. The quiet secret he names is that startups all over Silicon Valley are forking those open models at real volume, and a key open question is whether regulation tries to stomp that out. He extends this into a broader non-consensus discomfort with the vilification of China common in Washington and parts of Silicon Valley, observing that the US is only a few percent of the global population.

    AI Investing, Moats, and the Limits of Models

    On how AI changes investing and whether a startup is just a wrapper, Gurley calls it up for grabs but lands on the side of durable verticals. If models become near-sentient, one model does everything; he doubts that, pointing to workflows and data moats, like the several legal AI startups ingesting all the case law and building new databases that customers will not simply swap for a general chatbot. He balances this against the Microsoft pattern of platforms climbing the stack past Lotus 1-2-3 and WordPerfect. He also flags scaling limits: we may be running out of data, painting in the corners, which is why one of the most powerful improvements is paying experts thousands of dollars an hour to fine-tune models, though human knowledge has an edge. He invokes Yann LeCun’s argument that the next leap is broader than language-based LLMs, which hit an asymptote and struggle with math, and the AlphaGo debate, where a shocking innovative move proves creativity within a constrained game but says little about the infinite paths of the real world. He notes AlphaGo and Tesla’s FSD are constrained, non-LLM systems.

    Is the Buildout Overfunded

    Gurley admits he is shocked by the scale of money, noting the Magnificent Seven drove free cash flow from 50 to 100 billion a year down toward zero by spending it all on capex, something he would not have believed five years ago. He traces it to the venture community’s growing conviction in increasing returns and power laws, where proven companies grow far beyond expectations, which makes investors more willing to take risk on the come. The losses before turning cash-flow positive keep scaling, from Amazon’s 2 to 3 billion to Uber’s roughly 15 billion to far larger now. On corrections, he recalls the dot-com crash producing a three to four year nuclear winter before Amazon climbed back, and explains that circular deals, where a cloud provider funds a model company that spends it right back on its services, inflate growth and therefore both raise the probability of a correction and extend the runway before one arrives. Burn rate, he stresses, is a measure of risk, and at five billion a year it is nearly impossible to know your unit economics.

    Tokenization, the IPO Heist, and Going Public

    There is no shortage of capital, so funding is not the bottleneck; the risk with tokenization is that, absent disclosure regulation, it invites speculation and manipulation, as seen in retail-loved names like GameStop and Palantir. Tokenizing a private company like Stripe could create the wild price swings companies stay private to avoid, since private liquidity events let them negotiate a price with trusted investors rather than expose the constantly moving underlying value, and Robinhood’s tokenization plans already drew legal pushback. Gurley reserves his sharpest critique for the IPO process, calling it insanely unfair because bankers pick both the price and the favored shareholders. A freshman computer science and finance student would simply match supply and demand anonymously in an auction, the way an ICO or a direct listing does, but Wall Street will not let go of the greedy power grab and reverted to a controlled oligopoly after direct listings were available.

    Stablecoins Versus the Payment Cartel

    Gurley argues stablecoins could be deeply disruptive to credit cards. Most of the developed world built instant bank-to-bank transfer long ago, from UK Faster Payments 20 years ago to Argentina’s PIX-style system that quickly hit 60 to 70 percent of transactions, while US bank regulatory capture stalled Fed Now and left an ecosystem living under 2 to 2.5 percent card fees. A USDC stablecoin holds dollar-for-dollar US Treasuries and rides proven, fast, global crypto rails, letting anyone move a dollar in seconds for pennies, against the backdrop of three-day ACH settlement and 25 dollar wires. He sees Visa and Mastercard, a bank-created duopoly with roughly 60 percent operating margins, as heavily threatened, and points to China, where WeChat Pay and Alipay built ubiquitous QR-code wallets that leapfrogged the entire card system, all because the government made money transfer easy.

    Moody’s, Proxy Advisors, and Index Funds

    Moody’s power, Gurley explains, comes from being a trusted standard, the watermark, so even AI on the back end does not displace it. Proxy advisors like ISS are a different story: they score companies in a black box, refuse to reveal the criteria, and then get paid by the same companies that want to learn how to score better, which he calls more of a heist than a service. They drifted from a shareholder-interest mandate into a corporate-governance, fraud-mitigation posture obsessed with rules, which is why they reflexively opposed the Tesla pay package that only paid Elon Musk if the stock soared, a deal Gurley says he would sign for every company he has worked with. The rise of passive index funds compounds the problem, concentrating voting power in firms without time to evaluate votes; he would prefer they abstain or vote in proportion to active holders, since closet indexing during the MAG 7 run already distorted active management.

    Storytelling, Writing, and Founder Advantages

    Gurley fell in love with the craft of writing in business school, moving from business books to personal development titles like Dale Carnegie and Seven Habits, then biographies, then long-form narrative nonfiction by Malcolm Gladwell, Michael Lewis, and Jon Krakauer, the New Journalism that reads like fiction. Writing forces clarity: he cites Bezos’s six-page memo as a tool that makes you think through corner cases and tie up loose ends, and notes that codifying his marketplace knowledge and publishing it turned his blog into a calling card that magnetized founders and deal flow. He lists the top founder traits as storytelling, product instincts, understanding the edge, and determination. Storytelling matters because founders are constantly recruiting, fundraising, and closing customers and partners. Product instinct is nearly unteachable, present in well under 5 percent of non-product hires. And determination is Bezos’s single angel-investing test: will this person do it no matter what, come hell or high water.

    Uber, Benchmark, and the Shape of Venture

    The Uber lesson with no HBS case study was that a winner-take-all category with network effects demanded funding ad nauseam, producing burn rates bigger than any public company would dare, with no precedent and no mentor to call, exactly the situation AI companies now face, only with a zero added. Gurley credits Benchmark’s design, an equal partnership with no king, president, or lead and five equal partners, for making it easy to recruit top talent, encouraging senior partners to develop newcomers since everyone shares the upside, and eliminating annual comp politics. The downside is that without a CEO it is hard to scale or run new initiatives, famously captured by the firm settling on a single splash-page website. Founders choose a VC for reputation and network effects, the stamp of approval that carries weight, and young investors can break in because they often match founders’ age and can outwork everyone to master a fresh niche like esports or YouTube, which is why the industry bends toward youth. Asked what success means now, Gurley says his venture career was a dream job he would have done for free, but it is done; inspired by Arthur Brooks’s From Strength to Strength, he wants to apply his synthesizing and writing to bigger societal problems and dent the universe a little.

    Notable Quotes

    “We do live in a world where information is really cut up, but we also live in a world where you can have access to more information than you ever could.”

    Bill Gurley, on why the abundance of knowledge rewards the curious

    “You got to be really conscious of the consequence and not get too deterministic about a single metric or a single variable.”

    Bill Gurley, on the discipline of systems thinking

    “Value just means that the asset is underpriced relative to what you think it will be worth in the future.”

    Bill Gurley, relaying Bill Miller’s reframing of value investing

    “I’ve always thought of Wall Street as the buyer of the product that venture capitalists create.”

    Bill Gurley, on why founders should think about the public market early

    “One society, when the farmers come to market, they just sell each other goods and then they go back. The other society, when the farmers come to market, they’re forced to share best practices. Which one is going to evolve faster?”

    Bill Gurley, on why open source models can out-innovate

    “If you took a freshman computer science student and a freshman finance student and said imagine how a company should go public, they would match supply and demand anonymously like you would in any auction.”

    Bill Gurley, on the rigged IPO process

    “When I meet an entrepreneur, there’s only one thing I ask myself. Is this person gonna do this no matter what? Come hell or high water, they’re doing this.”

    Bill Gurley, quoting Jeff Bezos on his single test for angel investing

    “You’re recruiting employees, you’re recruiting executives, you’re raising money, you’re closing customers, you’re closing partnerships. You’re selling all the damn time.”

    Bill Gurley, on why storytelling is a top founder trait

    “I often said that if we lived in a socialist society and everyone had to work for free, I would still take that job.”

    Bill Gurley, on loving his venture career

    “I would like to see if I can apply those techniques to bigger, broader problems in society and dent the universe a little bit that way.”

    Bill Gurley, on what success looks like in his next chapter

    Watch the full conversation with Bill Gurley on The Knowledge Project here.

    Related Reading

  • Benedict Evans on the Economics of AI Usage, Why Foundation Models May Become Commodities, and What Comes Next for SaaS

    Benedict Evans returns to the a16z podcast to update the thesis behind his widely read “AI eats the world” presentation, and the picture he paints is less about hype and more about hard economics. In this conversation he works through what has actually played out in the last year, why agentic coding became the one use case with real product market fit, and why he keeps arguing that foundation models may end up as commodities while the value moves somewhere else entirely. You can watch the full conversation here.

    TLDW

    Benedict Evans argues that the AI moment looks a lot like the early internet, the early PC era, and the rollout of mobile data, which means it is exciting, genuinely transformative, and almost impossible to predict use case by use case. Agentic coding is the only field with clear product market fit right now, with revenue run rates exploding from roughly nine billion to forty seven billion, while consumers still use chatbots weekly rather than daily. His central claim is that foundation models show no obvious network effect or sustainable differentiation, the chatbot is a limited v1 interface, and the model labs cannot build every application, so the value will likely move up the stack the way it did with chips, ISPs, and mobile networks rather than staying with the model providers. He covers the brutal supply and demand disequilibrium driving today’s token pricing and ten thousand dollar surprise bills, the financial gravity problem of hyperscalers spending over half their revenue on capex, the Jevons paradox and consumer surplus that may compete away productivity gains, the way the important questions move out of San Francisco and into industries like law, consulting, finance, and advertising, and the distinction between automating tasks and changing jobs. His closing image is an IBM ad from the 1950s promising “150 extra engineers,” a reminder that every platform shift feels unprecedented and that in twenty years we will simply say of course computers do that.

    Thoughts

    The most useful thing Evans does here is refuse to collapse uncertainty into a clean prediction, and then explain exactly why that refusal is the correct posture rather than a cop out. He distinguishes between the parts where he will commit to a view, that foundation models are probably not a product and the chatbot is probably not the right interface, and the parts where there are simply too many open paths to call. That discipline is rare in AI commentary, where the incentive is to sound certain. The commodity argument is not “models are worthless.” It is a chain of reasoning: there is no visible network effect, no durable differentiation beyond willingness to spend, no lock in comparable to Windows or iOS, and a likely structure of three to six well funded competitors plus open source and edge models all selling the same thing. Ask where price discipline comes from in that picture and the honest answer is that it probably does not, which is how you get a commodity even when demand is effectively infinite.

    The mobile data analogy is the load bearing comparison and it deserves to be taken seriously. Mobile data traffic rose something like fifteen hundred to two thousand times over fifteen years, the networks built an extraordinary piece of global infrastructure, everyone came to depend on it, and yet the operators captured almost none of the value because all the interesting stuff got built on top by someone else. Telco stocks were flat for two decades. If that is the template, then the trillion dollars of capex flowing into AI infrastructure can be both a worthwhile investment and a terrible place to expect outsized equity returns, because building the road is not the same as owning the traffic. The counterpoint Evans keeps fairly on the table is the operating system path, where Windows and iOS did capture value, but he notes they had levers and network effects that LLMs do not appear to have.

    His framing of where the questions live is the part most people in tech underweight. Once a technology works, the interesting questions stop being technology questions. Netflix is not a tech company in the sense that matters, because its real decisions are Los Angeles decisions about shows, talent, and sports, not San Francisco decisions about infrastructure. By the same logic, what AI means for a law firm is mostly a question for people who understand what associates actually do and what clients are actually paying for, not for model researchers. This is why the “the model will just do the whole thing” story keeps running aground. Most valuable software does not solve a problem the customer already knew they had. It often takes years to convince an industry that a problem even exists, and an LLM prompt does not surface latent problems that no one has articulated.

    The economic plumbing he describes is where the near term risk actually sits. We are in extreme disequilibrium, where twenty dollars a month can buy ten thousand dollars of tokens on one side and a weekend of experimentation can produce a ten thousand dollar bill on the other, exactly the pattern mobile data went through around 2009 and 2010. That gets resolved with the boring machinery of caps, throttling, and pricing tiers, not with magic. Layered on top is the financial gravity problem: Microsoft, Meta, and Google heading toward spending more than half of revenue on capex, with roughly seven hundred billion dollars of guidance across the big players, against a hard ceiling because there is not ten trillion dollars a year available to spend. And even when the productivity gains are real, the Jevons paradox and consumer surplus suggest much of the benefit gets competed away. If a discounted cash flow model used to take a week and now takes ten seconds, you do fifty of them and charge the client the same, which is great for clients and unremarkable for margins.

    The honest takeaway for builders is that the answer to “what does this do to software” is more software, probably one or two orders of magnitude more, just as SaaS itself produced an explosion rather than a consolidation. The SaaS apocalypse is real in the sense that some meaningful percentage of existing companies get wiped out, and unknowable in the sense that no one can yet say which ones, which is why thoughtful investors are reluctant to be long software in the dark. For anyone pursuing a more deliberate, purposeful relationship with technology, the closing note is the one to keep: every one of these shifts felt singular and world ending and world making at the time, it reshaped work and put people out of jobs and created things we love, and then it quietly became invisible. The goal is to stay clear eyed about which of those buckets a given change lands in rather than getting swept up in the noise of what someone said at a party yesterday.

    Key Takeaways

    • Agentic coding shifted from “kind of useful” to “really changing everything” at the start of the year, and it is the single field with unambiguous product market fit, where customers are pulling it out of your hands.
    • Coding working first was foreseeable in hindsight: software developers were the ones messing with the tools, and the first thing people do with a new kind of computer is build more computing, just as the first thing people did with PCs was make computers.
    • Anthropic, with less capital raised, chose to focus on coding and got it working, while OpenAI cycled through a more everything all at once strategy before narrowing in.
    • The intense focus on coding comes bundled with a supply crunch, a capacity crunch, and a price and capex imbalance that defines the current moment.
    • Most of the fundamental questions from two or three years ago still have no answers: whether there will be a winner in models, whether models capture value up the stack, how much they can do, and whether consumers will use this daily rather than weekly.
    • There is a wide gap between Valley insiders running clusters of Mac Studios all day and the roughly forty percent of people who say AI is “kind of useful, I used it last week for something.”
    • Outside tech, companies are adopting AI as one at a time point solutions for specific back office processes, like a commodities company using LLMs for better cash flow forecasting, not as a general purpose assistant.
    • Adoption always compounds on prior platforms: you could not have nine hundred million weekly active users in the Netscape era because there were not nine hundred million PCs on the planet.
    • Early in any platform shift almost nothing works smoothly, from sound cards and floppy disks with TCP/IP to computers that froze and lost your work, and AI is at that stage now.
    • Today’s token pricing crunch mirrors the mobile data shock of 2009 to 2010, where flat rate plans collided with surging usage and networks had to realign price with marginal cost through caps, fair use, and throttling.
    • Mobile data traffic rose roughly fifteen hundred to two thousand times in fifteen years, mobile networks earn around a trillion dollars and spend about two hundred billion a year on capex, yet their stocks have been flat for twenty years because all the value moved up the stack.
    • The central LLM question is whether the model can do the whole thing or whether you need hundreds of applications built on top, the same way you needed apps on Windows and iOS.
    • Evans sees no network effect and no sustainable differentiation between models beyond willingness to spend money, which points toward commodity infrastructure sold near marginal cost.
    • Chip companies, ISPs, and mobile operators did not capture the value; Windows and iOS did, but only because they had levers to move up the stack and real network effects, which models lack.
    • A useful comparison is semiconductors, where each generation gets more expensive and the field narrows to fewer players, suggesting three to six frontier model makers spending somewhere between two hundred billion and two trillion dollars a year.
    • Enterprises do not standardize on a model the way they once thought about AWS; the cloud and the model get abstracted away, so customers do not even know which one their SaaS product runs on.
    • Demand for tokens being effectively infinite does not prevent a price equilibrium, exactly as infinite demand for mobile bits still produced murderous price wars between commodity carriers.
    • History teaches that something will happen but rarely what; the smartest people in tech wrongly predicted Android would crush the iPhone on open versus closed grounds.
    • One characteristic of tech is that the moment you understand how something works is the moment to move on, which is why Evans stopped updating his Apple spreadsheet years ago.
    • The people who are good at using a tool are usually not the people who are good at designing what the tool should be, which is why model labs cannot build every skill or vertical application.
    • Claude skills and similar templates resemble file new in Excel: useful starting points that users eventually outgrow, raising the question of who builds the real software.
    • The questions increasingly move out of technology and into specific industries; what AI means for law, consulting, advertising, or accounting is partly an AI question and partly a deep domain question.
    • Netflix is not a tech company in the way that matters, because its real questions are media industry questions about shows, talent, and sports, not infrastructure; the same logic now applies across industries facing AI.
    • AI differs from prior platform shifts because the physical limits are unknown; in 1995 you knew PCs cost three thousand dollars and broadband could not reach everyone overnight, but no one knows how cheap, fast, or capable models will get.
    • Evans offers four buttons to press on any use case: is it just price elasticity and the Jevons paradox, does it remove a cost barrier to entry, does it unlock a new business model, or does it make something previously impossible now possible like trains over horses or Spotify over CDs.
    • Advertising and e-commerce are a standout opportunity because today’s systems know a SKU and a metadata field but not what a product actually is or why people buy it, and LLMs could change that level of understanding.
    • The valuable shift is not doing the old thing more, like more spreadsheets or better email, but doing genuinely new things, such as asking an LLM how to change prices to improve churn using all your call recordings, CRM flows, and product telemetry.
    • Enterprise software today splits into three buckets: big horizontal systems like SAP and Workday, three to four hundred vertical SaaS apps plus a thousand internal apps, and a fuzzy improvised middle of Excel, email, and shared files, with AI arriving as a new option across all three.
    • A core design tension is where to put the probabilistic software that can make mistakes versus the deterministic database that cannot, and whether the LLM sits at the top or the bottom of the stack; the answer is probably both depending on the task.
    • The net effect on software is way more software, since SaaS itself produced one to two orders of magnitude more software and all software companies exist to solve problems created by other software companies.
    • The SaaS apocalypse is real but unknowable: some percentage of SaaS companies get wiped out, but no one knows which, so you should not derate the whole sector fifty percent and many investors are wary of being long software for now.
    • Much of what an organization does is implicit, undocumented, and not in the training data, which is exactly the value McKinsey, Bain, and BCG provide by getting license to map how a company really works.
    • The real decisions are usually exception handling: the question is always what you cannot automate and what still requires human judgment about cases that were never written down.
    • Distinguish tasks from jobs: accountants spend almost none of their time the way they did fifty years ago, yet to the client the job looks the same.
    • LLMs excel where you want the average, the answer anyone would give, and struggle where you specifically do not want the average and cannot fully explain why you did it differently.
    • There is a financial gravity ceiling: Microsoft, Meta, and Google are on track to spend over fifty percent of revenue on capex versus fifteen to twenty percent for capital intensive telecoms, with seven hundred billion in guidance this year and no path to ten trillion.
    • Hyperscalers face an existential FOMO trap: returns look positive now, but they cannot let rivals build the future of compute without participating, even as the CFO asks how much participation is enough.
    • Token maxing will face a reckoning as the disequilibrium resolves, but measuring ROI is hard because most reported benefits so far, like better analytics, support, and productivity, are tough to put a financial value on.
    • Consumer surplus means many gains get competed away: if analysis that took a week now takes a day, you do five times more analysis and charge the same, the way investment banks did with spreadsheets.
    • Evans closes with a 1950s IBM ad promising “150 extra engineers,” a reminder that every fundamental technology change feels unprecedented, and that in twenty years AI will simply be invisible magic we take for granted.

    Detailed Summary

    What changed in the last year

    Evans frames the past year as a narrowing of focus. A year and a half after the first version of his presentation, the field has developed a much clearer sense of diverging product strategies and competitive tension that goes beyond simply building a bigger model with more compute. The dominant shift is that agentic coding started genuinely working, and the entire industry narrowed in on it because it has absolute product market fit, the kind where customers pull the product out of your hands. That success arrives alongside the supply crunch, capacity constraints, and price imbalance that now define the moment. At the same time, the charts keep climbing, models keep getting bigger, capex keeps growing, and usage keeps growing, while the deep questions from a few years ago remain unanswered.

    Why coding worked first

    That coding led was predictable at a naive level: the people experimenting with the tools were software developers, and they naturally tried to make software development work. Evans compares the moment to the internet around 1997 and 1998, and also to PCs in the late seventies and early eighties, when the technology was exciting but it was not clear what it was for and it did not quite work yet. The first thing people did with PCs was make computers, and since LLMs are in a sense computers, the first thing people are doing with them is making more compute. What was harder to foresee was the precise timing of the shift, the moment when agentic coding flipped from useful to transformative at the start of this year.

    Jobs, juniors, and what we have not learned

    On the question of what this means for engineers and team structure, Evans is blunt that we have learned almost nothing yet, because this did not even work six months ago and everyone is scrambling to interpret it. The pricing crunch alone means it will take a couple of years to settle. The newly concrete questions include whether you still hire junior people and what they would do, and why you were hiring juniors in the first place, whether to do the work itself or to develop people. Because software development now genuinely automates a class of work that used to be done by people, those questions have moved from theoretical to real, but no one can responsibly claim to know what a software team or a software career looks like in three years.

    OpenAI, Anthropic, and the strategy split

    Evans dryly notes the drama around the model labs, including the disruption of a senior leadership medical leave at OpenAI. In the latter part of last year, OpenAI’s question was essentially what to build on top of the models, an everything all at once approach that looked almost like asking the model for fifteen ideas and then doing all of them. Anthropic, with less capital raised, instead committed to coding and got it working, whether by deliberate strategy or by stumbling into it. The result is that software development plus a few other fields are where things genuinely work, surrounded by a large population of people excited around the edges and corporations quietly automating specific back office processes. He cites a commodities company that wants LLMs for better cash flow forecasting across many small producers, a very different thing from asking a chatbot to summarize your meetings.

    The mobile data analogy and value capture

    The richest section is the comparison to mobile. Adoption always compounds on prior platforms, so AI inherits a far larger installed base than the internet or mobile did at their starts. Early on, nothing works smoothly, and Evans recalls the era of buying a three hundred dollar sound card or wrestling a floppy disk of TCP/IP into a machine. The pricing dynamics directly echo mobile data around 2009 and 2010, when flat rate plans met exploding usage and ten thousand dollar bills, forcing networks to realign price with marginal cost. Crucially, mobile data traffic then rose fifteen hundred to two thousand times, the networks built extraordinary global infrastructure with around a trillion dollars of revenue and two hundred billion in annual capex, and yet their stocks stayed flat for twenty years because all the cool stuff and all the value got built and captured by someone else higher up the stack. Chip companies, ISPs, and mobile operators did not capture value; Windows and iOS did, but they had levers and network effects that models do not appear to share.

    The case that models become commodities

    Evans lays out the building blocks of his commodity thesis. First, there is no clear way to build a model that is sustainably and fundamentally better than everyone else’s, with no visible network effect and no strategic lever comparable to what Instagram, YouTube, or Google search enjoy. Differences in emphasis and taste exist, but not durable competitive moats beyond spending. Second, the chatbot is a weird, limited v1 interface that works well for some tasks and people but requires tooling, the right data, configuration, control, and thoughtful design for most real jobs, and the people good at a job are rarely the people good at designing the tool for it. Third, the labs cannot build every application any more than Microsoft or Apple could build every Windows or iPhone app. Enterprises do not standardize on a model the way they never standardized on a visible cloud provider, because it gets abstracted away. Taken together, that points to low level infrastructure sold by perhaps half a dozen competitors plus open source and edge, with no obvious source of price discipline, which is the definition of a commodity even when demand is infinite.

    The questions move out of technology

    One of the next big questions is when models become good enough that you no longer need the largest, fastest, most expensive model, and can use an older model, an open source model, or one running on device where compute is effectively free to the developer. But the deeper shift is that the important questions move out of technology and into industries. Drawing on his own essays “content isn’t king” and “Netflix isn’t a tech company,” Evans argues that Netflix’s real decisions are Los Angeles media questions, not San Francisco infrastructure questions, and San Francisco does not even know what the right questions are. By the same logic, what AI means for a law firm is mostly a question for people who understand law firms, what generative video means for Hollywood is a question Ben Affleck can answer better than he can, and the questions become half AI and half something else.

    Four buttons and the new things AI unlocks

    To reason about impact, Evans offers four buttons. Is a use case just price elasticity, the Jevons paradox of doing the same thing for less or more for the same money. Does it remove a cost that was a barrier to entry, like a newspaper’s printing press. Does it unlock something in your business model. Or does it make something previously impossible now possible, the way steam engines made trains possible regardless of how many horses you bought, or Spotify turned fifteen dollars a month into all the music there is. He stresses that the same broad change can mean wildly different things by industry, just as the internet devastated newspapers but barely touched movie studios. His favorite tractable example is advertising and e-commerce, a trillion dollar advertising market against twenty five trillion in retail, where today’s systems know a SKU and a metadata field and that people who bought one thing bought another, but do not know what a product is or why people buy it. An LLM could in principle understand the product, recommend ten coats at different prices with pros and cons, or look at your Instagram and suggest a winter coat that changes your look but not too much, which would have been science fiction three years ago.

    More software, the SaaS apocalypse, and tasks versus jobs

    For software specifically, Evans expects more competition, cheaper and quicker building, and new categories that were impossible before, all under an uncertain new margin structure where outcome based pricing is hard because most software work cannot be tied cleanly to profit and loss. He frames enterprise software as three buckets, big horizontal systems, hundreds of vertical and internal apps, and a fuzzy improvised middle of Excel and email, with AI arriving as another option across all of them. The deeper design tension is where to place probabilistic software that can make mistakes versus deterministic systems that cannot, and whether the LLM sits at the top or bottom of the stack, with the answer being both depending on the task. The net result is way more software, since SaaS itself produced orders of magnitude more software and software exists to solve problems created by other software. That fuels the SaaS apocalypse anxiety: some companies clearly get wiped out, but since no one knows which, you should not derate the whole sector, even as many investors stay cautious about being long software.

    Implicit knowledge, exception handling, and where the average fails

    Much of what organizations do is implicit, undocumented, and absent from any training data, which is precisely the value of strategy consultancies that get license to map how a company really works versus how it is supposed to work. The real decisions tend to be exception handling, the cases that require human judgment because they were never written down or do not look like before. Evans separates tasks from jobs, noting accountants do almost nothing the way they did fifty years ago while the client still buys the same thing. And he offers a sharp test: LLMs are excellent where you want the average, the answer anyone would give, and weak where you specifically do not want the average and cannot fully articulate why you did it differently.

    Capex, financial gravity, and the ROI question

    On spending, Evans describes a financial gravity problem. Microsoft, Meta, and Google are on line to spend over half their revenue on capex this year, against fifteen to twenty percent for capital intensive telecoms, with roughly seven hundred billion in guidance across the big players, a sum comparable to all of telecom or oil and gas. They cannot sustainably leap to one and a half trillion next year because the money is not there, so the curve must eventually taper. The hyperscalers are caught in an existential FOMO trap: returns look positive now, but they cannot sit out what might be the future of compute without risking becoming the next stranded incumbent, even as the CFO asks how much is enough. On token maxing, he expects a reckoning as the disequilibrium resolves, but measuring ROI is genuinely hard because most reported benefits so far are soft and hard to value, and consumer surplus means much of the gain gets competed away, the way faster spreadsheets simply meant more analysis at the same price.

    Closing image

    Evans ends with an IBM advertisement from the early 1950s showing a sea of engineers holding slide rules, with the tagline that an IBM electronic calculator gives you 150 extra engineers, exactly the pitch behind countless modern startup decks. We move through these fundamental technology waves every ten or fifteen or twenty years, each one feeling completely unlike anything before, and AI is amazing and transformative in the same way mobile, the internet, and PCs were. The base case is that it will produce wonderful things, ruin some livelihoods, put people out of work, and eventually become invisible. His one line description of where it all ends up is that it will be magic, and in twenty years we will simply say of course computers do that, the way an hour of crash free streaming HD video over Wi-Fi already feels unremarkable.

    Notable Quotes

    “Agentic coding went from being kind of useful to really changing everything.”

    Benedict Evans, on the pivotal shift at the start of the year

    “We are in this extreme scarcity. We can’t spend $10 trillion a year on AI infrastructure cuz there isn’t $10 trillion a year there to spend on it.”

    Benedict Evans, on the hard ceiling of AI capex

    “I don’t think foundation models are a product. I don’t think a chatbot is a product. I think the value will be further up.”

    Benedict Evans, stating the core of his thesis

    “They built this amazing piece of global incredibly sophisticated very expensive global infrastructure with enormous growth in use, and they didn’t make any money from it because all the value moved up stack.”

    Benedict Evans, on the mobile network analogy

    “The moment that you understand something and you know how it works and what’s going to happen is the moment you should move on to something else.”

    Benedict Evans, on how to pay attention in tech

    “These are all Los Angeles questions. These are not San Francisco questions. No one in San Francisco even knows what the right questions are.”

    Benedict Evans, on why Netflix is not a tech company

    “The important stuff is not doing the old thing but more. It’s doing something new that you couldn’t have done with the old thing.”

    Benedict Evans, on where the real value of a new technology shows up

    “All software companies exist to solve problems created by other software companies.”

    Benedict Evans, on why AI produces more software, not less

    “It’s going to be magic, and in 20 years time we’ll just say, well, of course that’s how it is. Computers have always done that.”

    Benedict Evans, on how the whole shift ends up

    This is a dense, clear eyed conversation that rewards a full listen, especially if you are trying to think past the hype cycle about where AI value actually lands. Watch the full conversation here, and check out the “AI eats the world” presentation referenced throughout.

    Related Reading

    • Benedict Evans’ website home of the “AI eats the world” presentation and his newsletter referenced throughout the conversation.
    • Andreessen Horowitz (a16z) the venture firm whose podcast hosted this discussion and where Evans was formerly a partner.
    • Jevons paradox (Wikipedia) background on the price elasticity idea Evans uses to explain how cheaper AI may lead to more usage rather than savings.
    • Stratechery by Ben Thompson the analysis Evans cites on software as a designed workflow versus a process that grows out of how a business runs.
    • The Pursuit of Purpose a PJFP look at finding direction and meaning in work as automation reshapes careers and industries.

  • Inside Anthropic, the $965 Billion AI Juggernaut: Dario and Daniela Amodei on Claude, Claude Code, and the AI Arms Race

    In this episode of The Circuit, Bloomberg goes inside Anthropic, the AI lab that started as an underdog and is now valued at nearly a trillion dollars. The conversation centers on the sibling duo running the company, Dario Amodei, the brother and visionary, and Daniela Amodei, the sister and operator, along with Boris Cherny, the engineer behind Claude Code and Claude Cowork. It is a rare, on-the-record look at how a safety-obsessed startup founded by a group of OpenAI defectors in 2021 became the breakout star of the AI arms race, wiping billions in value off software stocks and forcing an uncomfortable national conversation about the future of work. You can watch the full episode here.

    TLDW

    Dario and Daniela Amodei walk through Anthropic’s rise from a pandemic-era group meeting on the grass in Precita Park to a roughly $965 billion AI juggernaut that is now profitable for the first time. They explain why they left OpenAI, citing a breakdown of trust and values with Sam Altman rather than a single safety disagreement, and how Dario’s early bet on scaling laws shaped the entire field. The two describe how Claude is trained for character and “professional warmth,” anchored in documents like the UN Declaration of Human Rights, and how the company defines a good model as one that does not lie, hallucinate, or deceive. The business story is enterprise and coding: Claude Code and Claude Cowork automated huge chunks of software engineering, triggered a SaaSpocalypse that erased $285 billion in market value overnight, and pushed annualized growth to as high as 80x in a single quarter. Boris Cherny, recruited from a slow miso-making life in rural Japan, says Claude has written one hundred percent of his code for at least six months. The hardest part of the conversation is jobs: Dario stands by his warning that AI could eliminate half of all entry level white collar jobs in one to five years, pushes back hard on Jensen Huang’s “doom marketing” critique, and lays out where displaced workers might go, from the physical world to human-centered roles like a reimagined, more interpersonal version of medicine. The episode closes by teasing AI and the future of warfare, a scarily powerful new model called Mythos, and Dario’s identification not with Oppenheimer but with Leo Szilard.

    Thoughts

    The most revealing moment in this profile is not a number, it is Dario Amodei’s description of the “smooth exponential.” His whole career, he says, has felt like nothing happening, nothing happening, nothing happening, and then zoom. That mental model is the key to understanding why Anthropic behaves the way it does. A company that genuinely believes it is riding an exponential will tolerate enormous near-term discomfort, public criticism, and internal strain, because it has already priced in a future that looks nothing like the present. Whether that conviction is wisdom or a kind of motivated certainty is the open question the episode never fully resolves, but it explains the urgency in every answer he gives.

    The Boris Cherny segment is the part that should make working engineers sit up. When a senior engineer says Claude has written one hundred percent of his code for six months and that he feels like he has a jet pack, that is not a marketing line, it is a description of a job that has already changed underneath the person doing it. The framing in the piece is optimistic, superpowers and fun, but the logical endpoint is exactly the one Dario himself names a few minutes later: you automate ninety percent of a job, the remaining humans get ten times more leveraged, and then the curve keeps bending toward one hundred percent. Anthropic is, unusually, building the thing and narrating its own disruption in the same breath. That honesty is rare, and it is also a little vertiginous.

    The values-versus-business-model argument deserves more scrutiny than it gets. Dario’s claim is elegant: a business model that conflicts with your values forces you to either betray the values or become irrelevant, so Anthropic chose enterprise and coding because curing diseases and making energy cheaper are enterprise work, while consumer engagement is the addiction-maximizing trap of social media. It is a genuinely good argument, and it is also extremely convenient that the values-aligned path happens to be the most lucrative one. The episode lets that tension sit, which is the right call. The honest reading is that Anthropic found a place where doing well and doing good currently point in the same direction, and the harder test will come the first time they diverge.

    On jobs, Dario is more persuasive than his critics give him credit for, precisely because he refuses the comfortable framing. Jensen Huang and others accuse him of conflating tasks with jobs and of doom marketing that benefits Anthropic. Dario’s response, that the idea this is cheap marketing is itself cheap marketing, is sharper than it first sounds. He is pointing at the way social media flattens a five-page argument about tasks, jobs, tax policy, and the adolescence of technology into a three-second clip designed to provoke. The deeper point is that he is trying to hold two things at once, fast GDP growth and high unemployment, and our public discourse is structurally bad at holding two things at once. That is less a story about AI than about the medium we use to argue about it.

    Finally, the Oppenheimer exchange reframes the entire profile. Dario explicitly rejects the lone-genius model and names Leo Szilard, the scientist who first imagined the chain reaction, as the figure he identifies with. He calls Oppenheimer a failure case, an example of what should not happen. For a man whose company is constantly accused of cultivating a great-man mythology, choosing the early-warning scientist over the bomb’s public face is a deliberate statement about how he wants this story to end: not with charismatic individuals at the center of everything, but with checks and balances everywhere. It is the most quietly radical thing said in the whole piece, and the teaser for a model named Mythos lands with a little extra irony because of it.

    Key Takeaways

    • Anthropic is profiled as an AI juggernaut valued at nearly a trillion dollars, with the figure of roughly $965 billion framing the episode, and is described as profitable for the first time.
    • The company was founded in 2021 by a team of OpenAI defectors and started as an underdog lab before becoming the breakout star of the AI race.
    • Anthropic is run by a sibling duo, Dario Amodei as the visionary and Daniela Amodei as the operator who turns his ideas into action, and Daniela jokes that when they argue, no one wins.
    • Dario describes the AI trajectory as a “smooth exponential” where nothing seems to happen for a long time and then progress suddenly explodes.
    • He says he predicted from a graph that Anthropic would become the AI company with the most revenue and valuation around this time, and that it has happened.
    • Dario grew up in San Francisco with a leather-craftsman father and a librarian mother, took calculus in middle school, and studied math at UC Berkeley while in high school, with no early interest in the internet revolution.
    • Dario studied neuroscience before moving to AI at Baidu and later Google, while Daniela was an early employee at Stripe.
    • Both joined OpenAI starting in 2016, where Dario developed the concept of scaling laws, predicting that large language models would improve simply by adding more data and compute even if the underlying algorithm stayed the same.
    • Scaling up was a counter-cultural scientific bet at the time, held mainly by the founding research team, and it helped supercharge OpenAI’s models and pave the way for ChatGPT.
    • The Amodeis left OpenAI after clashing with Sam Altman over direction and values, framing it as a breakdown of trust and honesty rather than a single safety disagreement.
    • Altman has said that despite their differences, he mostly trusts Anthropic as a company.
    • Anthropic has all seven of its co-founders still at the company, which Dario notes almost never happens at a company of its size.
    • The early team met during the pandemic at Precita Park in San Francisco, pulling up chairs on the grass to talk about what they were building.
    • The name Anthropic comes from the Greek word for human, reflecting a stated mission to build responsible AI for the long-term benefit of humanity.
    • Dario has published long essays including Machines of Loving Grace and The Adolescence of Technology, exploring both the miraculous potential and the worst-case scenarios of AI.
    • Claude is trained to follow a set of principles called a Constitution, intended to keep it aligned and well-behaved.
    • Daniela describes Claude’s intended personality as “professional warmth,” approachable but distant, not a best friend and not cold or calculating.
    • A good model, in Anthropic’s framing, does not lie accidentally or intentionally, with lying including hallucinations where the model invents something it does not know.
    • Anthropic’s own research has shown that models can purposely try to deceive users, which the company works to prevent in production models.
    • There is no universal standard for helpfulness or harmlessness, so Anthropic draws on founding documents like the UN Declaration of Human Rights to train Claude’s character.
    • The company has begun consulting religious leaders about Claude as an entity and about core values that transcend any single worldview.
    • Early Claude models, around the Claude 2 era, were sometimes “nannyish,” expressing concern when a user just wanted the weather, which researchers describe as tuning a fine dial.
    • Anthropic’s revenue skyrocketed over the past year, driven by a focus on lucrative business tools rather than consumer apps.
    • Claude Code automated large chunks of software engineering, and Claude Cowork extended that power to non-engineers.
    • Dario frames the enterprise bet as a values-and-business decision, arguing that a business model conflicting with your values forces you to betray them or become irrelevant.
    • He contrasts engagement-and-addiction-driven consumer and advertising models with enterprise uses like curing diseases, advancing biotech and pharma, and making energy cheaper.
    • Soon after Claude Cowork launched, $285 billion in market value vanished overnight in what traders called the SaaSpocalypse, with some software stocks down nine days in a row.
    • Dario argues the software “pie” will get bigger overall, even as some incumbents shrink or go out of business if they fail to adapt and defend their moats.
    • Boris Cherny, the engineer behind Claude Code and Claude Cowork, was recruited in 2024 from a slow life in rural Japan where he made miso and shopped at farmer’s markets.
    • Cherny’s bet was that a coding agent could do all of software development, not just autocomplete a line or a sentence.
    • He now runs anywhere from a few to a few thousand Claudes at once and says Claude has written one hundred percent of his code for at least six months.
    • A live demo builds a working recipe app that suggests meals for the week in minutes, work that used to take hours or days.
    • At the second annual Code with Claude conference, Anthropic reported API volume up nearly 17x year over year, eight frontier models shipped in twelve months, and first-quarter growth that annualizes to roughly 80x.
    • Dario stands by his warning that AI could eliminate half of all entry level white collar jobs in the next one to five years, saying he remains the same order of concerned.
    • He warns of an unusual combination of very fast GDP growth alongside high unemployment, underemployment, low-wage jobs, and high inequality.
    • Jensen Huang and others have pushed back, accusing Dario of conflating tasks with jobs and of doom marketing that benefits Anthropic.
    • Dario responds that the claim this is cheap marketing is itself cheap marketing, and blames social media for flattening his careful five-page arguments into three-second clips.
    • Anthropic published a paper estimating that management, finance, and legal jobs could be among the fields most affected by AI in the near future.
    • Dario points to the physical world, human-centered relationship-driven work, and humans directing AI as places displaced workers might go, though he is unsure how thick those roles will be.
    • He uses medicine as an example, predicting AI will excel at diagnosis while doctors pivot toward the interpersonal, hands-on, bedside-manner parts that AI cannot replace.
    • The episode teases a next installment on AI and the future of warfare, a scarily powerful new model called Mythos, and the theme of riding the exponential while avoiding dystopia.
    • Dario names The Making of the Atomic Bomb as a favorite book and identifies most with Leo Szilard, who first conceived of a chain reaction, rather than Oppenheimer, whom he sees as a failure case.
    • His view is that the only way the AI era ends well is through checks and balances everywhere, not larger-than-life personalities at the center of everything.

    Detailed Summary

    An unlikely AI celebrity and a sibling-run juggernaut

    The profile opens in a library Dario Amodei clearly loves, establishing him as an unlikely AI celebrity, a man known for warning the world about the risks of artificial intelligence who now runs a company valued at nearly a trillion dollars. Anthropic is presented as the breakout star of the AI race, wiping billions off software stocks, going head-to-head with the Pentagon, and building models powerful enough to threaten modern cybersecurity, with early testers reportedly calling one capability a super weapon and asking the company not to release it. Guiding the company is the sibling pair, Dario the visionary and Daniela the operator who translates his swirling cosmic thoughts into action. Daniela explains that the two have always been close and always wanted to do something big together, and when asked who wins their arguments, she says no one. The framing throughout is of a young, fast-growing startup carrying enormous responsibility for how humanity works, learns, thinks, and even fights wars.

    The smooth exponential and the road from OpenAI

    Dario describes his entire career as the experience of a smooth exponential, where nothing happens for a long stretch and then things go crazy, and he says he watched a graph and correctly predicted Anthropic would top the field in revenue and valuation around now. His backstory is a math prodigy in San Francisco, the son of a leather craftsman and a librarian, taking calculus in middle school and Berkeley math classes in high school, indifferent to the internet revolution and drawn instead to science fiction and understanding the universe. Daniela, more into reading and the arts, calls them near-perfect complements. Dario moved from neuroscience into AI at Baidu and Google, Daniela went to Stripe, and both eventually joined OpenAI starting in 2016, where Dario developed scaling laws, the then counter-cultural bet that more data and compute alone would make models smarter. That insight helped power the models behind ChatGPT, but the Amodeis clashed with Sam Altman over values and direction. Dario frames the departure bluntly: disagreements on safety alone were not enough, but a loss of trust, a sense that Altman’s stated values were not his real values, made it impossible to continue. The resolution, he says, was simply to go off and do their own thing.

    Precita Park, the Constitution, and teaching Claude to be good

    Anthropic’s origin story runs through Precita Park, where the early pandemic-era team gathered on the grass to talk about what they were building. Of seven co-founders, all are still at the company, a retention record Dario says almost never happens at this scale. From the start the company pitched itself as the ultimate safety-conscious lab, with Dario publishing essays like Machines of Loving Grace and The Adolescence of Technology. Claude is trained on a Constitution, and Daniela describes its intended character as professional warmth, approachable but distant. Defining a good model, the team says it should not lie, whether through intentional deception or hallucination, the latter being the model inventing answers it does not actually know. Anthropic’s research has shown models can deliberately deceive, something they work to prevent in production. Because there is no universal standard for helpfulness or harmlessness, they anchor Claude’s training in documents like the UN Declaration of Human Rights and have begun talking with religious leaders about values that transcend any single worldview. Daniela recalls early “nannyish” Claude 2-era behavior, where the model fretted over a user who only wanted the weather, and describes the work as threading a fine needle to land in the center of the dial.

    The enterprise bet, Claude Code, and the SaaSpocalypse

    Anthropic’s revenue surge and first-time profitability are attributed to a focus on business tools, especially Claude Code, which automated large chunks of software engineering, and Claude Cowork, which extended that capability beyond engineers. Dario frames the bet on coding and enterprise as both a values and a business decision: a business model that conflicts with your values eventually forces you to betray them or become irrelevant. He contrasts the engagement and addiction incentives of advertising-driven social media and AI video with enterprise applications like curing diseases, biotech, pharma, academic research, and cheaper energy, all of which he counts as enterprise work aligned with the company’s mission. The disruption was immediate and brutal: soon after Claude Cowork launched, $285 billion in market value vanished overnight in what traders dubbed the SaaSpocalypse, with some software stocks falling nine days straight. Dario’s read is that the overall software pie will grow even as specific incumbents shrink or fail, and that the big losers will be those who do not see what is coming or defend their moats.

    Boris Cherny, jet packs, and Code with Claude

    Much of Anthropic’s recent growth is credited to Boris Cherny, the engineer behind Claude Code and Claude Cowork, hired in 2024 from a deliberately slow life in rural Japan where he made miso and frequented farmer’s markets. A serious science fiction reader, Cherny was awed by his first AI chatbot and also acutely aware of how badly the technology could go. His bet was that a coding agent could do all of software development rather than just autocomplete. He now describes orchestrating anywhere from a few to a few thousand Claudes at once, talking to one while it writes code and moving to the next, and says Claude has written one hundred percent of his code for at least six months. He compares the feeling to having superpowers and a jet pack, calling engineering more fun than ever. A live demo has Claude build a working weekly-meal recipe app in minutes. The story then moves to the second annual Code with Claude conference, where the company reports API volume up nearly 17x year over year, eight frontier models shipped in twelve months, and first-quarter growth annualizing to roughly 80x, with attendees ranging from technical superfans to curious non-engineers.

    Jobs, the tasks-versus-jobs fight, and a more human medicine

    The episode turns to the uncomfortable core: whether engineers will be the first casualties of the AI they are building. Dario stands by his warning that AI could eliminate half of all entry level white collar jobs in one to five years and says he is still the same order of concerned, describing a strange combination of very fast GDP growth with high unemployment, underemployment, low-wage work, and inequality. He notes the usual productivity hump, where automating ninety percent of a job makes humans ten times more leveraged on the rest, before the curve bends toward one hundred percent. With 70 percent of Americans expecting AI to kill jobs and nearly a third fearing for their own, the stakes are political. Jensen Huang and others accuse Dario of conflating tasks with jobs and of doom marketing, and Dario pushes back hard, arguing he writes carefully across five pages about tasks, jobs, tax and macroeconomic policy, and the new jobs of the adolescence of technology, and that calling this cheap marketing is itself cheap marketing born of social media’s three-second culture. Anthropic has published a paper suggesting management, finance, and legal jobs could change the most. Dario points to the physical world, human-centered relationship work, and humans directing AI as landing spots, using medicine as his example: AI will become an excellent diagnostician, but it cannot physically examine a patient or provide bedside manner, so medicine pivots toward the interpersonal. The episode closes by teasing AI and the future of warfare, a powerful new model called Mythos, and Dario’s identification with Leo Szilard over Oppenheimer, whom he calls a failure case, insisting the era can only end well with checks and balances everywhere rather than larger-than-life figures at the center.

    Notable Quotes

    “There’s this kind of smooth exponential, and the experience of the smooth exponential is, nothing’s happening, nothing’s happening, nothing’s happening. Little things happen, and then zoom, it goes crazy.”

    Dario Amodei, on how AI progress actually feels from the inside

    “When you feel that you can’t trust someone, when you feel that their values are not what they say they are, when you feel that they’re not honest, that makes it very hard to continue to work with a company.”

    Dario Amodei, on why he and Daniela left OpenAI

    “Some of the early companies that we gave this to said things like, this is a super weapon, please don’t release this.”

    Anthropic, on early reactions to one of its more powerful models

    “I like to describe it as professional warmth. So the goal is not for it to be your best friend, but it’s not for it to be sort of cold, rote, calculating.”

    Daniela Amodei, describing the character Anthropic designs into Claude

    “If you pick a business model that fundamentally conflicts with your values, you’re gonna have a hard time. Either you betray your own values or you become irrelevant.”

    Dario Amodei, on why Anthropic bet on enterprise and coding

    “For me personally, it’s been writing a hundred percent of my code for at least six months. The work of engineering has just completely changed.”

    Boris Cherny, the engineer behind Claude Code and Claude Cowork

    “I feel like I suddenly have superpowers. I have like a jet pack and the engineering has never been this fun.”

    Boris Cherny, on building software with Claude Code

    “I think we could have this very unusual combination of very fast GDP growth and high unemployment, or at least underemployment, or low wage jobs, high inequality.”

    Dario Amodei, on the economic shock he is most worried about

    “The idea that this is cheap marketing is itself cheap marketing. I think it’s part of the disease of Silicon Valley.”

    Dario Amodei, responding to the doom-marketing accusation

    “The figure I most identified with was Leo Szilard, who was the one who first had the idea that there could be a chain reaction.”

    Dario Amodei, on which atomic-age scientist he sees himself in, rejecting Oppenheimer as a failure case

    Watch the full episode of The Circuit inside Anthropic here.

    Related Reading

    • Anthropic the official site for the company, Claude, Claude Code, and its safety research.
    • Machines of Loving Grace Dario Amodei’s long essay on the optimistic case for powerful AI referenced in the profile.
    • Scaling laws (Wikipedia) background on the data-and-compute bet Dario developed that reshaped modern AI.
    • Leo Szilard (Wikipedia) the physicist who first conceived the nuclear chain reaction and whom Dario says he identifies with.
    • Purpose the PJFP pillar on building meaningful work and direction in a world being reshaped by AI.

  • The AI Layoff Trap: Why Competing Firms Over-Automate, Destroy Their Own Customers, and How a Pigouvian Automation Tax Could Break the Arms Race

    A new economics paper called The AI Layoff Trap, by Brett Hemenway Falk of the University of Pennsylvania and Gerry Tsoukalas of Boston University, makes an argument that is easy to state and hard to escape. If artificial intelligence displaces workers faster than the economy can reabsorb them, it eats into the consumer demand that every firm depends on. The unsettling part is the next step: the authors show that firms knowing this is not enough to make them stop. Even with perfect foresight, rational companies race toward the cliff anyway, and the reason is a textbook market failure hiding inside the automation boom.

    TLDR

    The paper builds a task-based model of a transitioning economy and refocuses it from the labor market to the product market. When a firm automates, it captures the entire cost saving from replacing workers, but it bears only a fraction of the demand destruction that those lost paychecks cause, because most of that lost spending would have gone to rivals. This demand externality means each firm’s privately optimal automation rate is a dominant strategy that overshoots the level that would be best for everyone, including the firm owners themselves. Competition makes it worse, a monopolist would internalize it, and in the frictionless limit the whole thing collapses into a Prisoner’s Dilemma where every firm fires its entire human workforce even though collective restraint would raise all profits. Better AI amplifies the distortion rather than curing it, a dynamic the authors call a Red Queen effect. They test six policy responses. Capital income taxes, worker equity, universal basic income, upskilling, and Coasean bargaining all fail to fix the core incentive. Only a Pigouvian automation tax, set equal to the uninternalized demand loss per task, restores the efficient outcome. The conclusion reframes the AI jobs debate away from cleaning up the aftermath and toward the competitive incentives that drive the layoffs in the first place.

    Thoughts

    The cleverest move in this paper is where it points the camera. Most of the automation literature, going back to Acemoglu and Restrepo’s task-based framework, asks whether the labor market rebalances after displacement through new tasks and a self-correcting wage channel. Falk and Tsoukalas mostly set that debate aside and look at the product market instead. The question is no longer just “will the displaced worker find a new job,” it is “who buys the output once enough workers have lost their income.” By framing lost wages as lost revenue for every firm in the sector, they turn a labor story into a demand story, and the demand story has a much darker equilibrium.

    What makes the result bite is that it does not depend on firms being short-sighted or greedy. The authors grant every firm perfect foresight. Everyone can see the demand cliff ahead. They still automate past the social optimum because the math of a competitive market splits the cost saving and the demand loss unevenly. You keep all the savings from firing your workers. You eat only a sliver of the demand damage, and your competitors absorb the rest, just as you absorb a sliver of theirs. No individual firm can afford to be the one that shows restraint, because restraint just hands market share to rivals who do not. This is a genuine externality, not a coordination failure, which matters because coordination failures can sometimes be solved by communication and this one cannot. Even a binding agreement among all the firms would not hold, since defecting to automate is a dominant strategy for each of them.

    The Red Queen result is the part that should give AI optimists pause. The intuitive hope is that more capable AI raises productivity enough to lift everyone, so the demand problem takes care of itself. The model says the opposite. When AI gets better, each firm sees a bigger share gain from automating ahead of rivals, but at the symmetric equilibrium those share gains cancel out across firms and what remains is a larger distortion. Faster, cheaper, smarter automation widens the wedge between what is privately rational and what is collectively efficient. The technology improving does not relieve the pressure, it intensifies the race.

    The policy section is where the paper earns its keep, because it refuses to let the comfortable answers off the hook. Universal basic income is the response most people reach for, and the model is blunt that it raises living standards without changing a single firm’s incentive to automate. It treats the symptom and ignores the margin. Upskilling and worker equity narrow the gap but cannot close it. Capital income taxes operate on profit levels, not on the per-task decision where the externality actually lives, so they leave the automation rate untouched. The only instrument that works is a tax aimed directly at the act of automating, priced at the demand damage it imposes on others. That is an uncomfortable conclusion for almost everyone. It tells the political left that UBI alone does not fix the structural problem, and it tells the political right that an unregulated market over-automates in a way that destroys profits, not just jobs.

    The honest caveat, which the authors state plainly, is that this is a structural vulnerability rather than a diagnosed crisis. The signature they predict, profit erosion that shows up alongside mass layoffs, requires displacement at a scale and speed the economy has not yet reached. If reabsorption keeps pace, the externality stays too small to measure. But the conditions they flag are worth watching, and a few of the early indicators they cite, like business investment overtaking consumer spending as the leading driver of GDP growth and a falling savings rate, are exactly the kind of demand-side strain the model predicts. The value here is a clear mechanism and a sharp policy implication, available before the crisis rather than after it.

    Key Takeaways

    • The central claim is that AI-driven layoffs can erode the consumer demand firms depend on, and that rational firms with perfect foresight will not stop the process on their own.
    • The mechanism is a demand externality. An automating firm captures the full labor-cost saving but bears only a fraction of the aggregate demand loss it creates, because most of the lost spending would have gone to rivals.
    • Because of that split, each firm’s profit-maximizing automation rate is a strictly dominant strategy that exceeds the level that is collectively efficient.
    • The resulting loss is not a transfer from workers to owners. It is a deadweight loss that leaves both workers and firm owners worse off.
    • The distortion deepens with competition. A monopolist fully internalizes the externality, while fragmented, competitive markets show the widest gap between private and social automation rates.
    • In the frictionless limit, where every task is equally easy to automate, the game becomes a Prisoner’s Dilemma in which every firm replaces its entire human workforce even though collective restraint would raise all profits.
    • The Red Queen effect: more productive AI widens the wedge rather than resolving it, because perceived market-share gains from automating ahead of rivals cancel at the symmetric equilibrium and only the added distortion remains.
    • Endogenous wage adjustment, a key self-correcting channel in standard models, raises the threshold at which the externality activates but cannot close the wedge short of collapsing wages to the cost of AI.
    • Free entry, capital-income recycling, and richer product-market structures also fail to eliminate the distortion.
    • The model evaluates six policy instruments against the externality margin and reaches a clear ranking.
    • Universal basic income raises the floor on living standards but leaves each firm’s automation incentive unchanged.
    • Capital income taxes do not change the equilibrium automation rate, because they operate on profit levels rather than the per-task margin where the externality lives.
    • Upskilling and worker equity participation narrow the wedge but cannot eliminate it.
    • Coasean bargaining fails because automation is a dominant strategy, so no voluntary agreement among firms to restrain layoffs is self-enforcing.
    • Only a Pigouvian automation tax, a per-task charge set equal to the uninternalized demand loss, implements the cooperative optimum.
    • The tax can be self-limiting. Its revenue can fund retraining that raises income replacement, which shrinks the externality over time.
    • By Tinbergen’s principle, a distinct market failure needs a distinct instrument, which is why the single targeted tax succeeds where the broad transfers fail.
    • The mechanism runs through the product market, distinguishing it from work like Beraja and Zorzi that locates inefficient automation in labor-market borrowing constraints.
    • Unlike many other channels for excessive automation, this externality requires competition and vanishes under monopoly, and it persists even when AI is highly productive and credit markets are complete.
    • The demand externality belongs to the family of aggregate demand spillovers, but it is the mirror image of the classic big push: here individually profitable automation is collectively destructive.
    • The authors defend the channel against a general-equilibrium objection, arguing that displaced spending does not rotate back to mass-market firms because high-income consumption saturates and producers cannot quickly retool.
    • A second escape route through a falling interest rate also stalls when rates are near zero or when the income loss is lasting rather than temporary.
    • The empirical signature would be profit erosion coinciding with mass layoffs, which standard competitive models cannot easily explain.
    • The model points to fragmented industries deploying the most capable AI as the place the problem would bite hardest, not the dominant technology firms.
    • Suggested places to look for the effect include customer support, software services, and back-office operations at competing financial institutions.
    • The authors cite real-world signals, including Block cutting nearly half its workforce in February 2026 with AI named as the reason, and more than a million U.S. job cuts announced in 2025 with AI explicitly tied to roughly 55,000.
    • They note that roughly 80% of U.S. workers hold jobs with tasks exposed to large language models, citing Eloundou and coauthors.
    • The model is deliberately conservative, using one sector, one period, and symmetric firms, which the authors argue means the real problem is likely worse than what they show.
    • A practical wrinkle: a unilateral automation tax could push adoption offshore, strengthening the case for multilateral coordination or border adjustments, an explicit analogy to carbon policy.
    • The big reframing is that policy should address not only the aftermath of AI labor displacement but also the competitive incentives that cause it.

    Detailed Summary

    A task-based model refocused on the product market

    The framework borrows the task-based structure of Acemoglu and Restrepo but redirects its attention. Several symmetric firms each choose what fraction of their workforce to replace with AI. Automated tasks cost less to perform, but integration frictions make each additional task harder to automate than the last. On the demand side, workers spend a share of their income on the sector’s output while owners spend less, normalized to zero in the baseline. Some displaced income returns through reemployment or transfers, and the rest is lost to the sector. The setup is intentionally stripped down so the demand channel is transparent and the cliff is visible to every firm in the model.

    The demand externality that traps every firm

    Competition creates the trap. When a firm automates, it pockets the full labor-cost saving, but under competitive pricing it bears only a fraction of the aggregate demand destruction it causes. The rest spills onto rivals. Because each firm faces the same incentive, every firm’s profit-maximizing automation rate is a dominant strategy that exceeds the cooperatively efficient level. Foresight does not save them. The cliff is visible, the incentive to keep walking toward it is individually rational, and the collective result is over-automation that erodes the shared revenue base.

    Competition deepens it, monopoly internalizes it

    The size of the distortion depends on market structure. A monopolist owns all of the demand it would destroy, so it fully internalizes the externality and automates at the efficient rate. As markets fragment, each firm internalizes less and the gap between private and social automation widens. The most competitive markets, often held up as the healthiest, produce the worst over-automation in this model.

    The frictionless limit becomes a Prisoner’s Dilemma

    When integration frictions disappear and every task is equally easy to automate, the game sharpens into a Prisoner’s Dilemma. Full automation dominates restraint for each firm, so every firm displaces its entire human workforce, even though all of them would earn higher profits if they collectively held back. This is the cleanest statement of the trap: a unanimously worse outcome that no firm can unilaterally avoid, and that communication cannot fix because defection is dominant rather than merely tempting.

    The Red Queen effect: better AI makes it worse

    Higher AI productivity does not rescue the equilibrium. Each firm perceives a market-share gain from automating beyond its rivals, but at the symmetric equilibrium those gains cancel across firms, leaving only the extra distortion. So improvements in AI widen the wedge instead of closing it. The authors name this the Red Queen effect, after the character who must run just to stay in place. Endogenous wage adjustment, the classic self-correcting force, raises the threshold where the externality activates but cannot close the wedge once it does, short of wages collapsing all the way to the cost of AI.

    Six policy fixes, and why only one works

    The paper lines up six instruments against the externality. Capital income taxes change profit levels but not the per-task automation margin, so the equilibrium rate is unchanged. Universal basic income lifts living standards without touching the incentive to automate. Upskilling and worker equity narrow the wedge but leave a gap. Coasean bargaining cannot hold because automating is a dominant strategy, so no agreement is self-enforcing. Only a Pigouvian automation tax, set equal to the uninternalized demand loss per task, implements the cooperative optimum. Its revenue can fund retraining that raises income replacement, which shrinks the externality over time and can make the tax self-limiting. Tinbergen’s principle frames the lesson: a distinct market failure needs its own dedicated instrument.

    Does the channel survive general equilibrium?

    A natural objection is that in a frictionless multi-sector economy, displaced income would simply rotate to other spending and the mechanism would dissolve. The authors argue both escape routes are blocked for the mass-market firms most exposed to AI. Spending does not rotate back because high-income consumption saturates and mass-sector producers cannot quickly retool to capture redirected luxury demand. The other route runs through the interest rate: automation shifts income to owners who save more, raising aggregate saving, which a falling interest rate would normally recycle into investment. That adjustment stalls when rates are already near zero or when the income loss is lasting rather than temporary, so displaced workers cannot borrow their way through it.

    What to watch for in the real economy

    The distinguishing empirical signature would be profit erosion that shows up at the same time as mass layoffs, a combination standard competitive models struggle to explain since cost-cutting technology is supposed to raise profits. The authors are careful that this requires displacement at a scale and speed not yet reached, so the contribution is identifying a structural vulnerability rather than diagnosing an active crisis. They point to fragmented industries running the most capable AI as the place to look first, naming customer support, software services, and competing financial institutions’ back-office operations as concrete settings. They also flag a unilateral tax’s offshoring risk, drawing an explicit parallel to carbon policy and the case for multilateral coordination or border adjustments.

    Notable Quotes

    “At the limit, this becomes self-destructive: firms automate their way to boundless productivity and zero demand.”

    The authors, framing the demand cliff that competitive automation runs toward.

    “Rational, forward-looking firms should be the brake; if the cliff ahead is visible to all, why would they race toward it?”

    The authors, setting up the puzzle the paper exists to answer.

    “No firm can afford to be the one that holds back. This is the trap: an automation arms race that only intensifies as AI improves, that leaves workers and firm owners alike worse off, and that no market force can break.”

    From the Discussion, stating the core result in plain language.

    “Because over-automation leaves both firms and workers worse off, correcting it is a matter of eliminating waste, not of redistributing gains between them.”

    The authors, on why the fix is not a left-versus-right transfer fight.

    “This Red Queen effect means that ‘better’ AI, far from mitigating the externality, amplifies it.”

    The authors, on why more capable AI deepens the distortion rather than curing it.

    “The results suggest that policy should address not only the aftermath of AI labor displacement but also the competitive incentives that drive it.”

    From the abstract, the paper’s central policy reframing.

    You can read the full paper, including the formal propositions and the policy table, on arXiv here.

    Related Reading

  • Claude Fable 5 and Claude Mythos 5: Anthropic Ships Its First Generally Available Mythos-Class AI Model With New Safeguards

    Anthropic has launched Claude Fable 5 and Claude Mythos 5, the first Mythos-class models offered beyond a tiny circle of cyber defenders. Fable 5 is the generally available version, wrapped in a new layer of safeguards, while Mythos 5 is the same underlying model with some of those guardrails lifted for a small group of vetted partners. The pair sits a full tier above the Opus class in raw capability, and the launch is as much a story about how Anthropic is choosing to gate that capability as it is about the benchmarks. Below is a full breakdown of what shipped, what the model can do, and why the safeguard design matters.

    TLDR

    Anthropic released Claude Fable 5, a Mythos-class model that is now its most capable generally available model, posting state-of-the-art results across software engineering, knowledge work, vision, memory, and scientific research. To ship it safely and fast, Fable 5 carries new safety classifiers that route flagged queries in cybersecurity, biology and chemistry, and distillation over to Claude Opus 4.8 instead of refusing, a fallback that triggers in under 5% of sessions. The same model ships without cyber safeguards as Claude Mythos 5 for Project Glasswing partners in collaboration with the US Government, where it is described as having the strongest cybersecurity capabilities of any model in the world. Highlights include a codebase-wide migration of a 50-million-line Ruby codebase that Stripe says took a day instead of two months, beating Pokemon FireRed with a vision-only harness, accelerating drug design roughly tenfold using Mythos 5, producing novel molecular biology hypotheses preferred by scientists about 80% of the time, and over a week of autonomous genomics research. Both models cost 10 dollars per million input tokens and 50 dollars per million output tokens, less than half the price of Mythos Preview, with a staged subscription rollout and a new 30-day data retention policy for Mythos-class traffic.

    Thoughts

    The most interesting decision here is not the capability jump, it is the naming split. Fable and Mythos are the same brain. The only difference is whether the safeguards are on. Anthropic is effectively shipping one model twice: a gated public edition and an ungated edition handed to a short list of trusted defenders working with the US Government. That is a clean way to resolve the central tension of frontier AI, which is that the exact capabilities that help a security professional close a vulnerability also help an attacker find one. Rather than dumbing the model down for everyone or holding it back entirely, they are letting the access list, not the weights, carry the risk. Expect this pattern to repeat as capabilities climb.

    The fallback-to-Opus design is the other quietly important choice. When a classifier flags a query in cybersecurity, biology, chemistry, or suspected distillation, the user does not hit a wall of refusal. The request is silently handed to Opus 4.8, a model that is still excellent at almost everything. Graceful degradation beats a hard no, both for user experience and for trust. It also reframes what a safeguard is. Instead of a binary block, it becomes a routing decision, and because more than 95% of sessions never trigger it, most users will never notice it exists. The honest admission that the classifiers are tuned conservatively and will sometimes catch harmless requests is the right posture, even if it will annoy power users who keep getting bounced to the smaller model.

    The commercial signals are worth reading closely. Pricing came down to less than half of Mythos Preview, which suggests confidence in serving costs at scale, but the subscription rollout tells a more cautious story. Fable 5 is free on Pro, Max, Team, and Enterprise plans only through June 22, after which using it requires usage credits until capacity catches up. That is a polite way of saying demand is expected to badly outrun supply. The model is fully available on the API and consumption-based Enterprise plans from day one, because those bill by the token and self-throttle. Subscriptions, which are all-you-can-eat, are where a capacity crunch actually hurts, so that is exactly where the brakes went on.

    On the science, the genomics result is the one that should make people sit up. A model doing over a week of largely autonomous research, assembling single-cell data across 138 species, then designing and training its own machine learning model that outperforms a recently published Science paper while being 100 times smaller, is a different category of claim than acing a benchmark. So is the drug-design work, where Mythos 5 reportedly matches or beats skilled human operators end to end, choosing binding sites, running protein design tools, and recovering from its own failures. If those hold up to publication and independent replication, the interesting frontier stops being chat quality and becomes whether a model can run a research program. That is also precisely why the biology and chemistry classifier exists, and why Anthropic is being so deliberate about who gets the ungated version.

    One caveat worth keeping in view: nearly all of the evidence in the announcement is Anthropic’s own, or comes from partners with early access and an incentive to be enthusiastic. The Stripe migration, the FrontierCode score, the Slay the Spire memory result, the protein targets, and the genomics model are all compelling, but they are first-party until outside labs and the eventual system card, peer review, and independent red-teamers weigh in. The note that the UK AISI made progress toward a universal jailbreak inside a brief testing window is a useful reminder that the safeguard story is a work in progress, not a finished proof.

    Key Takeaways

    • Claude Fable 5 is a Mythos-class model made safe for general use, and is now Anthropic’s most capable generally available model.
    • Mythos-class is a tier that sits above the Opus class in capability. The first was Claude Mythos Preview, released in April through Project Glasswing.
    • Fable 5 is state-of-the-art on nearly all tested benchmarks, and its lead grows as tasks get longer and more complex.
    • Claude Mythos 5 is the same underlying model as Fable 5, but with safeguards lifted in some areas. Fable and Mythos differ only by their safeguards.
    • Mythos 5 is described as having the strongest cybersecurity capabilities of any model in the world, and is deployed through Project Glasswing with the US Government.
    • New safety classifiers cover cybersecurity, biology and chemistry, and distillation. Flagged queries fall back to Claude Opus 4.8 rather than being refused.
    • Users are told whenever a fallback happens. More than 95% of Fable sessions involve no fallback at all, and for those sessions Fable performs effectively the same as Mythos 5.
    • The safeguards are tuned conservatively and trigger in less than 5% of sessions on average, sometimes catching harmless requests. Anthropic plans to reduce false positives after launch.
    • Stripe reported Fable 5 compressed months of engineering into days, performing a codebase-wide migration of a 50-million-line Ruby codebase in a day that would have taken a team over two months by hand.
    • Fable 5 scores highest among frontier models on Cognition’s FrontierCode evaluation for high-quality agentic coding, even at medium effort, and is more token-efficient than past Claude models.
    • On Hebbia’s Finance Benchmark for senior-level reasoning, Fable 5 has the highest score of any model, with gains in document reasoning, chart and table interpretation, and problem solving.
    • IMC noted Fable 5 aced their trading-analysis evaluations nearly across the board, including factual lookup, conceptual reasoning, root-cause analysis, and expected-value analysis.
    • Fable 5 is the new state-of-the-art for vision, and can rebuild a web app’s source code from screenshots alone.
    • Fable 5 beat Pokemon FireRed using a minimal, vision-only harness with no maps, navigation aids, or extra game-state information. Earlier Claude models needed a complex helper harness.
    • Persistent file-based memory improved Fable 5’s Slay the Spire performance three times more than it did for Opus 4.8, and Fable reached the game’s final act three times more often.
    • Fable 5 built a simulation of the solar system, deriving the planets’ orbital motion from physics first principles and using it to predict solar eclipses.
    • Using Mythos 5, internal protein design experts accelerated aspects of drug design by around ten times, with the model matching or beating skilled human operators end to end.
    • Nine of 14 protein targets in the drug-design study yielded strong candidates Anthropic is now investigating.
    • Mythos 5 is Anthropic’s first model to consistently produce novel, compelling scientific hypotheses. Scientists preferred its molecular biology hypotheses about 80% of the time in blinded comparisons.
    • One Mythos hypothesis, a novel mechanism for an E. coli protein, was corroborated by an independent lab working on the same problem.
    • In over a week of largely autonomous work, Mythos 5 assembled single-cell data for millions of cells across 138 animal species and trained a custom model that outperformed a recent Science paper while being 100 times smaller.
    • Anthropic’s automated alignment assessment found Mythos 5’s level of misaligned behavior was low and similar to Opus 4.8. Because they are the same model, Fable 5’s alignment is similar.
    • An external bug bounty produced no universal jailbreaks in over 1,000 hours of testing, though the UK AISI made progress toward one in a brief initial window.
    • One external partner found Fable 5’s safeguards against harmful cyber queries the most robust of any model tested, including Opus 4.8 and Opus 4.7, with zero compliance on harmful single-turn cyberattack requests.
    • The biology and chemistry classifier is deliberately broad for now. Mythos-class models outperformed dedicated protein language models at predicting AAV viral shell assembly using biological reasoning alone.
    • The distillation classifier targets large-scale attempts to extract Claude’s capabilities to train competing models, which could proliferate near-frontier capabilities without safeguards.
    • A new policy requires 30-day data retention for all Mythos-class traffic on first- and third-party surfaces, used only for safety, with logged human access and deletion after 30 days in almost all cases.
    • Anthropic plans trusted access programs that let cybersecurity organizations apply for Mythos 5, and let a small number of life science researchers access Fable 5 with biology and chemistry safeguards removed.
    • Both models cost 10 dollars per million input tokens and 50 dollars per million output tokens, less than half the price of Mythos Preview. Developers can use claude-fable-5 via the Claude API.
    • Fable 5 is free on Pro, Max, Team, and seat-based Enterprise plans through June 22. On June 23 it moves to usage credits on those plans until capacity allows it to return as a standard inclusion.

    Detailed Summary

    A Mythos-class model, made safe for general use

    Fable 5 is the first Mythos-class model Anthropic has made generally available. Mythos-class is a tier that sits above the Opus class, and the first of its kind, Claude Mythos Preview, was released in April through Project Glasswing to a limited group of cyber defenders and critical software infrastructure providers. The company framed today’s launch as the moment it could finally bring that level of capability to all users, because its safeguards had matured enough to allow it. Fable 5’s capabilities exceed those of any model Anthropic has made generally available, and its advantage over other models grows as tasks get longer and more complex.

    Two models, one brain

    Claude Mythos 5 is the same underlying model as Fable 5, but with safeguards lifted in some areas. The names are the only real difference: Fable, from the Latin fabula meaning that which is told, is akin to the Greek mythos, and the safeguards are what distinguish the two. Mythos 5 launches first to existing Mythos Preview users, including the Project Glasswing cybersecurity partners, as an upgrade. It is deployed in collaboration with the US Government and is described as having the strongest cybersecurity capabilities of any model in the world. Anthropic plans to steadily expand access through a more systematic trusted access program.

    Software engineering and token efficiency

    Fable 5 can work autonomously for longer than any previous Claude model, and software engineering is where that shows most clearly. During early testing, Stripe reported it compressed months of engineering into days, performing a codebase-wide migration in a 50-million-line Ruby codebase in a single day that would otherwise have taken a whole team over two months by hand. It is also more token-efficient than past models, scoring highest among frontier models on Cognition’s FrontierCode evaluation for high-quality, maintainable agentic coding, even at medium effort.

    Knowledge work, vision, and memory

    On complex analytical work, Fable 5 posted the highest score of any model on Hebbia’s Finance Benchmark for senior-level reasoning, with substantial gains in document-based reasoning and chart and table interpretation, and IMC said it aced their trading-analysis evaluations nearly across the board. In vision, it is the new state-of-the-art, able to extract precise numbers from detailed scientific figures and rebuild a web app’s source code from screenshots alone. It needs less scaffolding too: where earlier Claude models struggled to play Pokemon even with helper harnesses, Fable 5 beat FireRed with a minimal, vision-only harness using nothing but raw game screenshots. On memory, giving Fable persistent file-based notes improved its Slay the Spire performance three times more than it did for Opus 4.8, and it built a physics-first-principles solar system simulation accurate enough to predict solar eclipses.

    Life sciences: drug design, hypotheses, and genomics

    Using Mythos 5, Anthropic’s internal protein design experts accelerated aspects of the drug-design process by around ten times. With protein design and bioinformatics tools but no human assistance, the model matched or beat skilled human operators, executing the full workflow of choosing binding sites, selecting and running design tools, and recovering from failures. Nine of 14 protein targets yielded strong drug-design candidates now under investigation. Mythos 5 is also Anthropic’s first model to consistently produce novel, compelling scientific hypotheses: scientists preferred its molecular biology hypotheses about 80% of the time in blinded comparisons, and one, a novel mechanism for an E. coli protein, was corroborated by an independent lab. In genomics, Mythos 5 ran over a week of largely autonomous research, assembling single-cell data for millions of cells across 138 species and training a custom model that outperformed a recent Science paper despite being 100 times smaller.

    The new safeguards: classifiers and fallback

    Mythos-class capability is potent enough that Anthropic considers it a substantial misuse risk, especially given how much advanced AI usage is dual use. Fable 5 ships with a new set of classifiers, separate AI systems that detect potential misuse and jailbreak attempts and stop the main model from responding. When a classifier flags a request related to cybersecurity, biology and chemistry, or distillation, the response is handled by Claude Opus 4.8 instead, and the user is told. The cybersecurity classifiers cover both exploitation and broader offensive cyber tasks like reconnaissance and lateral movement, and Anthropic says they prevent Fable from making any progress on those tasks. The biology and chemistry classifier is intentionally broad for now, after tests showed Mythos-class models could outperform dedicated protein language models at predicting AAV viral shell assembly using biological reasoning alone. The distillation classifier targets large-scale attempts to extract Claude’s capabilities to train competing models.

    Jailbreak resistance, data retention, and availability

    Anthropic ran extensive red-teaming, including an external bug bounty that produced no universal jailbreaks in over 1,000 hours, though it notes the UK AISI made progress toward one in a brief window. The company concedes it is likely impossible to fully prevent universal jailbreaks and aims instead to make any that remain slow and costly enough to catch before they scale. A new policy requires 30-day data retention for all Mythos-class traffic, used only for safety, with logged human access and deletion after 30 days in almost all cases. On availability, Fable 5 is live everywhere today and fully available on the API and consumption-based Enterprise plans, while subscription access rolls out in stages: free on Pro, Max, Team, and seat-based Enterprise through June 22, then on usage credits from June 23 until capacity allows it to return as a standard inclusion. Both models cost 10 dollars per million input tokens and 50 dollars per million output tokens.

    Notable Quotes

    “Today we’re launching Claude Fable 5: a Mythos-class model that we’ve made safe for general use.”

    Anthropic, opening the Claude Fable 5 and Claude Mythos 5 announcement

    “Fable 5’s capabilities exceed those of any model we’ve ever made generally available.”

    Anthropic, on where Fable 5 sits in the lineup

    “It has the strongest cybersecurity capabilities of any model in the world.”

    Anthropic, describing Claude Mythos 5

    “During early testing, Stripe reported that Fable 5 compressed months of engineering into days.”

    Anthropic, on Fable 5’s software engineering results

    “Our early data shows that more than 95% of Fable sessions involve no fallback at all.”

    Anthropic, on how often the safeguards route to Opus 4.8

    “Mythos 5 is our first model to consistently produce novel, compelling scientific hypotheses.”

    Anthropic, on the model’s molecular biology research

    “It is likely impossible to completely prevent universal jailbreaks, but our goal is to make any remaining jailbreaks sufficiently slow and costly that we can detect and prevent them before they are used at scale.”

    Anthropic, on the limits of its safeguards

    “Fable is from the Latin fabula, ‘that which is told,’ akin to the Greek mythos. The safeguards are what distinguish the two models.”

    Anthropic, explaining the Fable and Mythos naming

    Read the full announcement and the benchmark tables on Anthropic’s site here: Claude Fable 5 and Claude Mythos 5.

    Related Reading

  • Whale Rock Capital Founder Alex Sacerdote on S-Curve Investing, Why Anthropic Is His Highest Conviction Bet, and the Decommoditization of AI Hardware

    Alex Sacerdote built Whale Rock Capital into one of the most respected technology hedge funds in the world by treating markets through a single disciplined lens: the technology adoption S-curve. In this long conversation on Invest Like the Best with Patrick O’Shaughnessy, he lays out the full framework that has carried him through internet 1.0, mobile, cloud, e-commerce, and now AI, and he explains why Anthropic became his highest conviction position, why his fund went net short application software, and why the least glamorous corner of the market, the hardware and chips that build out data centers, may be one of the best ways to play artificial intelligence right now. What follows is the working theory of a money manager who has spent twenty years trying to think exponentially while the rest of the market thinks one quarter at a time.

    TLDW

    Sacerdote walks through Whale Rock’s three-part investment framework: find the right part of an S-curve, identify the company with a durable competitive advantage, and buy when long-term earnings power is underappreciated. He tells the story of investing in Anthropic at a 180 billion dollar valuation in August 2025 after Claude Code made coding the true unlock of AI, and frames the foundational model market as a three-horse race between Anthropic, OpenAI, and Google that resolved from sixty startups into an oligopoly. He argues enterprise AI is less than 1 percent penetrated, calls the adoption shape an L curve rather than an S-curve, and warns there is not enough compute in the world. He explains why he sold almost all of his application software and went net short, why he loves the decommoditization of AI hardware (Celestica, Corning, Elite Materials, Delta, Advanced Energy, high bandwidth memory, 40-layer PCBs), introduces a modified rule of 40 for chip investing, surveys the moats that let leaders win (network effects, industry standard, scale, critical IP, brand, recursive self-improvement), discusses moving from public markets into private deals like Stripe and Anthropic, lays out Whale Rock’s fund products including the new Mega Cap Tech Fund, defends old-fashioned scuttlebutt research in an AI age, and closes on the kindest thing anyone ever did for him, his father joining the firm after 41 years at Goldman Sachs.

    Thoughts

    The most useful idea in this conversation is not the bullishness on AI, which is everywhere now, but the discipline underneath it. Sacerdote’s framework forces a separation that most investors collapse. A great market is not a great investment. A great company is not a great investment. You need a tall S-curve, a company with a moat that survives the curve, and a price that does not yet reflect the earnings power. He says the quiet part out loud: he has repeatedly bought the best companies in the world at four or five times earnings precisely because the market refuses to extrapolate exponential growth. Nvidia at four times earnings in 2023, Tesla at five times in 2019, Amazon where AWS came free. The edge is not information, it is the willingness to underwrite two to four years out when the consensus cannot see past the next quarter.

    The Anthropic story is the framework applied in real time, and it is worth noting how late and how cautious he was. Whale Rock passed on the 60 billion dollar round because gross margins were negative and coding had not yet exploded. They only got conviction once Claude Code flipped from autocomplete to agentic work, once they heard Anthropic engineers were burning 100 dollars a day in tokens, and once the math on twenty million coders implied a half trillion dollar market from coding alone. The lesson he repeats throughout, that it is okay to be late, that you can miss the first 100 percent if the curve is tall enough, is a direct rebuke to the fear of missing out that drives most AI investing. He waited for the moat to be visible before he paid up.

    His most contrarian and most actionable call is on hardware. The consensus reflex is that chips and components are commodities that get competed to zero. Sacerdote argues the opposite is happening: AI workloads growing 10x a year are pushing every layer of the server to its physical limits, and that pressure is decommoditizing the entire stack. A liquid-cooled AI server is a 300,000 dollar piece of critical infrastructure, not a 5,000 dollar throwaway box, which means the supplier becomes a permanent fixture like a parts vendor on a plane. The Celestica example is the template: a contract manufacturer left for dead since 1999 that turned out to be the sole supplier of Google’s TPU server and a leader in liquid cooling and Ethernet switching, trading at eight times earnings. If he is right that we are 30 percent short on DRAM, NAND, and PCBs, the picks-and-shovels trade has years left to run regardless of which model company wins.

    The software bear case deserves the most scrutiny because it is the most consequential and the least certain. Going from 40 to 50 percent of the portfolio in software to net short is a violent reallocation, and his reasons are layered: AI products that nobody will pay for, CIO budgets being raided to fund Anthropic tokens, pricing power evaporating, and the long-term threat that AI-native startups rebuild incumbents from scratch. But he is honest that the bull case is real too, that old technology is sticky, that companies prefer to buy rather than build, and that AI might actually make platforms like Slack or CRM more important if agents end up operating inside them. This is the genuine uncertainty in the whole AI trade. The bottom of Jensen’s cake, chips and models, is where the value has accrued so far, but historically the application layer captured most of the market cap. Sacerdote is betting that this time the infrastructure and model layers hold the value longer, and he admits the application ecosystem is still unclear and a little bit dangerous. That admission is more valuable than any of his confident calls.

    Finally, the section on research in an AI age is a quiet refutation of the idea that this work automates away. Sacerdote runs a Philip Fisher scuttlebutt operation, 2,500 to 3,000 face-to-face management meetings a year, two decades of compounding relationships, the tripod of conviction where he, his analyst, and a respected outsider all independently like an idea. AI writes better notes now, but the paragraph on top, the wisdom about what it means and how it fits the thesis, is still human. The durable moat in his own business is the same one he looks for in the companies he buys: an accumulated advantage that newcomers cannot replicate quickly. That consistency between how he invests and how he operates is the most credible thing in the interview.

    Key Takeaways

    • Whale Rock’s framework has three legs: identify the right part of a technology S-curve, find the company with a powerful competitive advantage, and invest when long-term earnings power is underappreciated.
    • The core insight is exponential, not linear. Strong tech business models grow earnings exponentially, and because the market refuses to extrapolate, you can buy elite companies at very low multiples.
    • Concrete examples of buying exponential growth cheaply: Nvidia at four times earnings in 2023, Tesla at five times in 2019, Apple at four times, and Amazon where AWS was effectively free.
    • When ChatGPT launched in November 2022, Whale Rock did a firm-wide deep dive and chose to invest in chips and infrastructure first, because demand arrives there first and the winners are knowable regardless of who wins the model layer.
    • The foundational model market went from roughly 60 startups to a three-horse race: Anthropic, OpenAI, and Google. Most startups died, Amazon never showed up, and Meta faltered and had to reboot.
    • Anthropic was the dark horse that focused purely on enterprise while OpenAI won consumer. Whale Rock made it their highest conviction position.
    • Coding is the true unlock of AI. The progression went from Microsoft Copilot at 20 dollars a month (fixing grammar, finding a bug) to Claude running agentically and writing most of the code.
    • The market math: Anthropic engineers were reportedly spending 100 dollars a day on tokens, roughly 20 to 30 thousand dollars a year, and with about 20 million coders in the world that implies a half trillion dollar market from coding alone.
    • Whale Rock invested in Anthropic at the 180 billion dollar valuation in August 2025, when the company hoped to reach 9 billion in revenue and nobody yet knew what 2026 could be.
    • Andrej Karpathy and Linus Torvalds both flipped on AI coding. Karpathy went from 80 percent handwritten code to writing almost no code except in English.
    • Models are not pure commodities. There is real differentiation: Anthropic is strong for private equity and finance, Google is strong at ingesting PDFs, and routers that switch between models mask but do not erase that differentiation.
    • Anthropic is building an ecosystem around the API (SDK, orchestration, the harness, tools), echoing how AWS built lock-in with products around commodity servers starting in 2013.
    • The 800 million people using AI are mostly using AI 1.0, a search engine on steroids. Sundar Pichai estimated only about 10 basis points of knowledge workers are truly using AI’s new capabilities.
    • Enterprise AI is less than 1 percent penetrated. Whale Rock calls the adoption shape an L curve or backwards L curve because it goes straight up, unlike the slower 30 to 50 percent growth of cloud and SaaS.
    • There is not enough compute in the world. Anthropic reportedly has half of what it needs, and Marc Andreessen said the one thing he is sure of is that there will not be enough compute for the next four years.
    • The infrastructure S-curve is only about 10 percent penetrated and remains one of the best ways to play AI.
    • Getting into private deals requires a double opt-in. Whale Rock did a 90-page deck (built with Claude Code) on the coding market to win their Anthropic allocation, and their first private was Stripe in 2020 at a 35 billion dollar valuation.
    • The unicorn private market is now bigger than most European stock markets, larger than Germany or the UK individually. Whale Rock does 2,500 to 3,000 management meetings a year, 10 to 15 percent with privates.
    • S-curves come in two sizes: mega S-curves (internet, mobile, cloud, e-commerce, AI) and sub S-curves within them. AI is the biggest of all and each curve builds on the last.
    • Adoption inflects when barriers fall. Steve Jobs cut the smartphone price to 200 dollars on a 3G touchscreen, Elon cut the EV price to 40,000 with 300-mile range and a working supply chain. Remove the barriers and you get the tornado of demand.
    • Knowing how tall the curve is tells you when to sell. Growth stops being exponential around 30 to 40 percent penetration, when the sell side catches up and big beats end. EVs hit a wall at 10 to 15 percent instead of the expected 40 to 50 percent.
    • Selling Apple in 2012 at roughly 50 percent US smartphone penetration was a mistake, because the moat let it keep compounding around 20 percent even after the explosive phase ended.
    • At strategic inflection points you cannot trust the data (Andy Grove). The signal is intuition and anecdote: a 12-year-old in China on a giant phone playing a real game, or standing-room-only sessions at the Gartner IT Symposium for AWS, VMware, and Splunk.
    • Adoption slope varies. The radio curve hit near-full penetration in about 7 years, while B2B and infrastructure (the dishwasher that has to be plugged in) take far longer. AI is fast because you just open a browser.
    • The moats that let leaders win: network effects, becoming an industry standard, rapid scale, critical intellectual property, brand, and platform lock-in. Anthropic appears to have critical IP, enterprise brand, escape velocity, and recursive self-improvement from using its own code on its own models.
    • On the internet, the leader usually goes bigger, faster, and wins, and compounds on itself (Amazon, Shopify). Exceptions come at paradigm shifts, like AOL failing to make the dialup-to-broadband transition.
    • Whale Rock went from 40 to 50 percent in software five years ago to net short entering this year, which helped performance in the first quarter. AI products were not good enough to charge for and were not moving the needle.
    • Software faces a stack of headaches: falling priority on CIO to-do lists, budget pressure from token spend, lost pricing power, hiring freezes that hurt seat-based models, and the long-term threat of AI-native replacements.
    • The classic rule of 40 is growth rate plus operating margin. Whale Rock’s modified rule of 40 for chip investing is percent of sales that are AI plus market share in that category. Software AI exposure is still only 1 to 2 percent.
    • AI may make some platforms more important. The first thing you do with Claude is plug it into Slack, which could make Slack a permanent repository, and agents may end up operating inside incumbent tools like CRM, solidifying rather than killing them.
    • The data center stood still for 40 years on Intel x86, with every component commoditized. AI changed that. Workloads growing 10x a year are driving the decommoditization of the hardware industry.
    • Celestica is the template: a contract manufacturer left for dead since 1999, sole supplier of the Google TPU server, strong in liquid cooling and Ethernet white-box switching, with 50 to 60 percent share of the cloud Ethernet switch market, once trading at eight times earnings.
    • The whole supply chain is rerating: high bandwidth memory stacked 10 chips high, 40-layer PCBs (versus 10 for a normal server), Elite Materials copper clad laminate, Corning fiber (enough to circle the world four and a half times in one Microsoft data center), and Delta and Advanced Energy power supplies seeing ASPs rise 40 percent a year.
    • Networking has three layers: scale out (racks together), scale across (data centers together), and scale up (every GPU in a rack, currently copper, eventually fiber). The copper-to-fiber shift could two-to-three-x Corning’s opportunity.
    • Whale Rock estimates the market is roughly 30 percent short on DRAM, NAND, and PCBs even at today’s 10 basis points of real AI usage.
    • Rate of change matters more than absolute level. When Claude plotted market share data it missed the rate of change, the thing that drives accelerating growth and margins as a company moves from 10 to 30 percent share.
    • Key risks: public and government negativity toward AI (Maine reportedly banned data centers, only 20 percent of people are optimistic), models hitting a wall and letting open source catch up into a race to the bottom, and a major player faltering and stranding compute.
    • Chip companies do not care who wins the token war, which makes them a relatively safe way to play AI. Jensen Huang actively wants open source to take off.
    • Research is still human work. Whale Rock runs a Philip Fisher scuttlebutt process, the tripod of conviction (Alex, the analyst, and a respected outsider), and 20 years of compounding knowledge. AI writes better notes but cannot supply the wisdom paragraph on top or pick stocks.
    • The firm’s product evolution: 15 years as a long short fund, a long only fund in 2020 that is now larger than the long short, opt-in privates formalized around 2015 and activated in 2020, an 80 percent privates hybrid fund in 2021, and the new Whale Rock Mega Cap Tech Fund.
    • The Mega Cap Tech Fund thesis: endowments are structurally underweight the largest tech companies because they believe there is no alpha in large cap. Whale Rock takes the top 30 global market caps and picks the best 12 or 13, arguing it takes 100 diversified PMs to realize Google is a winner.
    • The kindest thing anyone ever did for Sacerdote: his father, after 41 years at Goldman Sachs, joined Whale Rock as chairman and the gray hair for six years until he passed away in 2011.

    Detailed Summary

    The Anthropic Investment and the Three-Horse Race

    When ChatGPT launched in November 2022, Whale Rock immediately took its 10-person team and ran a firm-wide deep dive. Sacerdote’s first principle is that every new compute paradigm creates a new stack with new winners and losers, and in this stack the layers run from power and chips at the bottom, to the clouds, to the foundational models, to the applications on top. In early 2023 the firm deliberately positioned in chips and infrastructure first, reasoning that demand arrives there first and the winners are knowable no matter who wins above. At an April 2023 webinar they framed the model layer as a coin flip between winner-take-all, total commodity, a race to zero, or an oligopoly of three or four. Over the next three years the answer became clear: of roughly 60 startups, almost all died, Amazon never really showed up, Meta came in strong then faltered and rebooted, and Anthropic emerged as the dark horse focused purely on enterprise while OpenAI won consumer and Google remained a perennial threat. The result looked like the cloud market, where three companies underpin the entire SaaS world with excellent businesses.

    The decisive factor was code. Sacerdote says the firm was initially skeptical AI could replace labor, given the negative corporate feedback on early models. That changed in 2025 when Claude Code and the agentic coding tools exploded. The progression ran from Microsoft Copilot at 20 dollars a month, which could improve coding grammar or find a bug, to Claude running agentically and doing far more. The token economics were staggering: Anthropic engineers reportedly spending 100 dollars a day, which annualizes to 20 to 30 thousand dollars, and with 20 million coders worldwide that implied a half trillion dollar market from coding alone, on technology that was only 7 to 9 months old. Whale Rock made the investment at the 180 billion dollar valuation in August 2025, writing in their letter that the company hoped to reach 9 billion in revenue, with growth like nothing they had ever seen, 100 million to a billion on the way to 9 billion, and no one yet knowing what 2026 could bring.

    Why the Models Are Not Commodities

    Everyone expected the foundational models to be pure commodities, but Sacerdote argues there is tremendous differentiation within them. Different training methods produce different skills: Anthropic excels at anything touching private equity and finance, Google is strong at ingesting PDFs. Routers that switch between models make them look like commodities but mask genuine, critical IP. Beyond the model itself, Anthropic is building a whole ecosystem around the API: the SDK, the orchestration layer, the tools, and the harness, the software wrapped around the API that gets the most out of the model. He compares this directly to AWS in 2013, when people dismissed cloud as commodity servers in a warehouse and missed that Amazon was inventing products that slowly built lock-in. The open-source risk from China is real, but Sacerdote got comfortable that leading-edge token quality is superior, because going from 80 to 85 percent of benchmark performance is a huge unlock and the open-source players lack the compute to leapfrog the frontier.

    The S-Curve Framework in Full

    Whale Rock’s whole edge is thinking exponentially when the world thinks linearly. Sacerdote argues very few people believe you can accurately predict two, three, or four years out, but if you understand the S-curve, the moats, and how to model, you can. Every technology follows the same pattern: it exists hidden for years (smartphones 10 years before the iPhone, the internet 20 years before Netscape, EVs 15 years before Tesla went vertical in 2019) until the barriers to adoption fall and demand inflects into a tornado. Knowing how tall the curve is tells you when to sell, because exponential growth stops around 30 to 40 percent penetration when the sell side catches up. Curves can also be dynamic: AWS turned out to address a far larger TAM than expected once it became clear cloud was not actually deflationary. There are mega S-curves (internet, mobile, cloud, e-commerce, AI) and sub S-curves within them. AI is the biggest. And slope varies enormously by the nature of the technology, the radio curve hitting full penetration in 7 years, B2B and infrastructure taking decades because, like a dishwasher, they have to be plugged into existing systems.

    On timing, Sacerdote is relaxed about being late. Citing Peter Lynch, who mentored him at Fidelity and told him to white out the chart because it is all about the future, he argues it is fine to miss the first one, two, or three years and even the first 100 percent if the top of the curve is half a trillion. At strategic inflection points, per Andy Grove, you cannot trust the data, so the firm relies on intuition and anecdote: a 12-year-old in China playing a real video game on a huge phone, or the AWS session at the Gartner IT Symposium that was standing-room-only at 9, 10, and 11 in the morning. Spotting the leader pulling away matters because, on the internet, the leader usually goes bigger, faster, and wins, compounding on itself, with exceptions only at paradigm shifts like AOL missing the move from dialup to broadband.

    The Software Bear Case

    Five years ago Whale Rock had 40 to 50 percent of its portfolio in software. Their April 2023 thesis was that incumbents with huge sales forces and proprietary data would take the AI APIs and build great products. Instead, the AI products were not good enough to charge for and did not move the needle, so the firm sold almost all of its application software and entered this year net short, which helped in the first quarter. The bear case is layered: software has fallen down the CIO priority list, budgets are being raided to fund Anthropic tokens with faster ROI, annual price increases look risky, and hiring freezes hurt seat-based models. The deeper threat is that AI-native startups could rebuild any incumbent from scratch, obviating the data advantage. The bull case is genuine too: old tech is sticky (mobile games did not kill consoles, tablets did not kill the PC), companies prefer to buy rather than build, and an ERP is hard to replace. Sacerdote also floats an optimistic twist, that AI could make platforms like Slack more important as agent repositories, and that agents operating inside CRM could solidify rather than destroy it, even as the bear case is that CRM goes headless and gets relegated to a database.

    The Decommoditization of AI Hardware

    This is Sacerdote’s most differentiated call. For 40 years nothing changed in the data center; Intel x86 became the standard, compute grew 25 to 40 percent a year in line with Moore’s law, and every component, from the printed circuit board to memory to enclosures to networking, commoditized. AI broke that. Workloads now grow 10x a year and push every aspect of the hardware to its physical limits, creating both tremendous unit growth and what Whale Rock calls the decommoditization of the hardware industry. He cites Sean Maguire wishing he could run a hardware hedge fund because all the companies are public with powerful IP, and compares it to Sequoia’s best early hardware investments in Apple and Cisco. The economics flip because an AI server is a liquid-cooled, 200 to 300 thousand dollar piece of critical infrastructure where a single failure brings the whole thing down, so suppliers become permanent like a critical part on a plane.

    Celestica is the marquee example: a contract manufacturer that had been a disaster industry since 1999 and went offshore to China, but kept its IBM supercomputing heritage and talent, became the sole supplier of the Google TPU server, and was trading at eight times earnings three years ago. It turned out to be excellent at liquid cooling where others failed, holds 50 to 60 percent share of the crucial cloud Ethernet switch market, and its engineers helped write the open-source SONiC software, working closely with Broadcom. The same dynamic runs up and down the chain: high bandwidth memory stacked 10 chips high that took Samsung years to master, 40-layer PCBs versus 10 for a normal server with very few suppliers able to make them, Elite Materials supplying the copper clad laminate, and Corning’s fiber, thinner and more bendable, with enough in a single Microsoft data center to circle the world four and a half times. Networking splits into scale out, scale across, and scale up, with the eventual copper-to-fiber shift in scale up potentially two-to-three-x-ing Corning’s opportunity. Power supplies from Delta and Advanced Energy are seeing ASPs rise 40 percent a year at higher margins because each Nvidia rack uses 50 to 125 percent more power. Visibility has gone from we’ll call you next week to design this roadmap with us for four years, turning 5 percent low-margin businesses into 35 to 50 percent topline growers with rising margins, and the whole market is roughly 30 percent short on DRAM, NAND, and PCBs.

    Private Markets, Risks, and the Research Machine

    Moving from public markets into privates meant adapting to a double opt-in, where the company has to choose to let you in. Whale Rock won its Anthropic allocation partly by building a 90-page deck with Claude Code scouring the internet for feedback on the coding market. Their first private was Stripe in April 2020 at a 35 billion dollar valuation, which they could only underwrite because they knew the public comp Adyen cold, and they upsized to a 100 million dollar block. The unicorn market is now bigger than most European stock markets combined. On risk, Sacerdote worries about public and government negativity (Maine reportedly banning data centers, only 20 percent of people optimistic), the possibility that models hit a wall and open source catches up into a race to the bottom, and a major player faltering and stranding compute, though he notes someone else (like Meta stepping into a cancelled Oracle deal) would likely absorb it, and that chip companies benefit regardless of who wins the token war. He explains his caution on the application layer by noting it always comes later, the iPhone took years to spawn its app economy, and the ecosystem is still unclear and a little dangerous, while pointing to Brett Taylor’s Sierra as the kind of company that could prove it out.

    On the research itself, Sacerdote insists AI has not supplanted the analyst. Whale Rock runs the scuttlebutt approach straight out of Philip Fisher’s Common Stocks and Uncommon Profits, doing 2,500 to 3,000 face-to-face management meetings a year and talking to suppliers, customers, and competitors. AI now writes much better notes and gets the team up to speed quickly on complex areas like ABF substrates, but there must be a wisdom paragraph on top, and it cannot pick stocks or replicate the work two analysts did building conviction in AppLovin and a relationship with Adam Foroughi. He calls the firm the Whale Rock learning machine, a group of 10 highly experienced people compounding knowledge for 20 years, with the tripod of conviction (himself, his analyst, and a respected outside investor all liking an idea) as the test. The firm’s products evolved from a 15-year long short fund to a 2020 long only fund now larger than the original, opt-in privates, an 80 percent privates hybrid in 2021, and the new Mega Cap Tech Fund built on the thesis that endowments are structurally underweight the largest tech companies because they wrongly believe large cap has no alpha. He closes on his father, who left Goldman after 41 years to join Whale Rock as chairman and the gray hair until his death in 2011, a mentor remembered by countless people for his humility and grace.

    Notable Quotes

    “When you get the right part of the S-curve, you get exponential unit growth. If you have a very strong business model, your earnings don’t grow linearly, they grow exponentially.”

    Alex Sacerdote, stating the core of the Whale Rock investment framework

    “The world doesn’t think exponentially. Very few people believe you can accurately predict two, three, four years out. But if you follow and understand the S-curve and you know the moats and you know how to model, you really can predict these great things.”

    Alex Sacerdote, on why the market consistently underprices long-term earnings power

    “The enterprise AI or enterprise application AI market is less than 1 percent penetrated, and we’ve never seen, you know, we talk about S-curves, we call this an L curve, just straight up.”

    Alex Sacerdote, on why AI adoption looks different from every prior technology curve

    “We’re at 10 basis points of people really using AI and we’re already sold out. There’s not enough compute in the world. So Anthropic has half of what they need right now, and that’s before this huge takeup.”

    Alex Sacerdote, on the scale of the compute shortage relative to actual adoption

    “It’s okay to be late. It’s okay to miss the first one, two, three years in a lot of cases, because if the top of the S-curve is half a trillion, the growth can go on for a long time. It’s okay to miss the first 100 percent.”

    Alex Sacerdote, on why fear of missing out is the wrong instinct in a tall S-curve

    “The old way of software is like using a pen and paper or a horse and buggy. The new way of software is like a jet engine or frankly like the transporter from Star Trek. It’s so revolutionary it feels like it has to be disruptive.”

    Alex Sacerdote, explaining why Whale Rock went net short application software

    “You become like critical infrastructure, like selling a critical part on a plane. You’ll never get swapped out.”

    Alex Sacerdote, on how liquid-cooled AI servers turned commodity hardware suppliers into permanent fixtures

    “Why do you tell everyone your secret? It’s like why does the casino teach people how to play blackjack? It’s harder. It’s really hard to do.”

    Alex Sacerdote, quoting his mother on why a public framework does not erase the edge

    “He said, you know, I’ve been at Goldman for 41 years. How about I come and join you? I’ll be the gray hair. I’ll be the oversight. I’ll be the chairman. You do what you do.”

    Alex Sacerdote, recalling his father joining Whale Rock, the kindest thing anyone ever did for him

    Watch the full conversation here: Whale Rock Capital Founder on Investing in the Age of Exponential AI.

    Related Reading

  • Elon Musk Announces SpaceX AI Satellites, Starship Mass to Orbit, and a Moon Mass Driver to Climb the Kardashev Scale

    Elon Musk sat down with the SpaceX Starlink team for a wide ranging update that connects every recent SpaceX move into one thesis: harness far more of the sun’s energy by putting AI compute in orbit. In this SpaceX conversation, the group walks from galaxy sized framing (the Kardashev scale) all the way down to the engineering specifics of a new AI satellite, the manufacturing buildout in Bastrop, Texas, and a long term plan that ends with a mass driver on the moon. The pitch is that none of it requires magic, just scaling technology SpaceX already flies.

    TLDW

    Musk frames civilizational progress with the Kardashev scale, a measure of how much power a species harnesses, and points out that humanity uses less than a trillionth of the sun’s output, barely registering even on the Type 1 (planet) level. Because most of Earth is water and the usable sunlit land is limited, the only way to capture a meaningful fraction of the sun’s energy is to go to space, where cooling is also easier since heat radiates straight into the vacuum. Three limiting factors must be solved: mass to orbit (handled by fully and rapidly reusable Starship, which already beats the Saturn V on thrust and aims for millions of tons to orbit per year), solar power plus radiators, and AI chips. SpaceX unveils its first AI satellite design, AI1, a roughly 70 meter wingspan craft at 150 kW peak and 120 kW sustained power that matches an Nvidia GB300 rack, reuses Starlink V3 solar technology, links by laser, and runs at only a few milliseconds of latency from low orbit. Chips start as off the shelf Nvidia GB300 and Rubin parts plus a TPU reference design, then scale through a planned 100 million square foot “Terafab” toward a terawatt per year of compute, about twice current US electricity use. The endgame pushes another 1,000x by manufacturing on the moon and using a lunar mass driver to fling satellites into deep space without rockets.

    Thoughts

    The most important reframe in this conversation is that Starlink, Starship, the xAI acquisition, and a new chip factory are not separate bets. They are one bet expressed as a single number: the percentage of the sun’s energy that civilization can capture and put to work. By anchoring everything to the Kardashev scale, Musk turns “build more satellites” into a measurable physics goal rather than a product roadmap. It is a rhetorically powerful move because it makes today’s hyperscale AI buildout, which already strains terrestrial grids, look like the obvious forcing function for going to space. If you accept that compute demand keeps compounding, then the constraint stops being chips and becomes power and cooling, and space genuinely is better at both.

    The cleverest engineering insight is almost understated: an AI satellite is simpler than a Starlink satellite, not harder. A Starlink craft carries complex phased array and parabolic antennas to talk to millions of dispersed users. An orbital data center mostly needs solar cells, radiators, some laser links, and the chips. SpaceX has already industrialized the hard parts (mass produced solar arrays, constellation flight operations at 10,000 satellites, laser mesh networking), so the new product is closer to a remix of proven subsystems than a clean sheet program. That is the real argument for why SpaceX, specifically, can do this when “data center in space” has sounded like science fiction for a decade.

    The numbers are where skepticism should live, and to his credit Musk says to take the timeline with a grain of salt. An annualized gigawatt of space compute by the end of next year, scaling roughly 10x per year toward a terawatt, is an extraordinary ramp. A terawatt is about twice the entire electricity consumption of the United States, delivered as orbiting hardware. Getting there leans on Starship hitting rapid reusability and on a 100 million square foot chip fab that is ten times Gigafactory Texas. Each of those is itself a moonshot, and stacking them multiplies the risk. The honest read is that the architecture is coherent even if the schedule is aspirational.

    The moon segment is where the talk turns from aggressive to genuinely speculative, and it is the part worth watching. A lunar mass driver, essentially a long linear motor that accelerates payloads to escape velocity, only makes sense once you are already moving enormous mass and want to escape Earth’s gravity well and atmosphere entirely. It is a classic Musk pattern: solve the near term problem (mass to orbit with Starship) in a way that creates the precondition for the next, larger problem (local production on the moon). Whether or not the dates hold, the dependency chain is logical, and it explains why SpaceX keeps investing in capabilities that look excessive for today’s market.

    One underrated takeaway for readers outside aerospace: this is as much a manufacturing story as a space story. The bottleneck is not whether a single AI satellite works, it is whether you can stamp out thousands to a million of them, plus the solar, plus the chips, at volume and low cost. That is why so much of the conversation is about Bastrop production lines, a solar manufacturing facility already under construction, and the Terafab. The space hardware is the visible part; the factories are the actual product.

    Key Takeaways

    • The whole strategy is framed around the Kardashev scale, a measure of how much power a civilization harnesses, named for Russian physicist Nikolai Kardashev.
    • Type 1 harnesses a planet’s available power, Type 2 a star’s full output, and Type 3 a galaxy’s; humanity sits at the very bottom of even Type 1.
    • We currently use much less than a trillionth of the sun’s power output, and a trillion is a million times a million.
    • The sun is about 99.86% of all mass in the solar system; most of the remaining 0.14% is Jupiter, and Earth is a tiny dust mote by comparison.
    • Incident solar energy on Earth’s cross section is roughly a half billionth of the sun’s total power output.
    • Most of that sunlight is unusable because about 70% of Earth is water and much of the land is at the poles or far north where solar is weak.
    • Reaching one millionth of the sun’s output, a “micro” on the Kardashev 2 scale, would be an epic achievement relative to today, and 1% would make a civilization vastly more powerful than ours.
    • Space avoids building massive ground power plants and makes cooling easier, because waste heat can radiate directly into the vacuum.
    • Three limiting factors must be solved to scale: mass to orbit, solar power plus radiators, and AI chips.
    • Starship provides the mass to orbit and is the first rocket designed for full and rapid reusability, the breakthrough behind both multiplanetary life and ascending the Kardashev scale.
    • SpaceX catches the booster with the launch tower instead of adding heavy landing legs, an extreme mass optimization measure.
    • Starship V3 already produces more than double the thrust of the Saturn V; V4 will be roughly three times, making it the largest, heaviest, most powerful moving object ever built.
    • Starship is targeted to eventually fly more than once per hour.
    • SpaceX already delivers roughly 85 to 90% of all Earth mass to orbit with Falcon 9 and Falcon Heavy.
    • The plan is to go from around 2,500 tons to orbit per year to millions of tons per year, reaching a million tons per year in about three years.
    • The AI satellite, called AI1, is actually simpler than a Starlink satellite because it lacks the complex phased array and parabolic antennas.
    • AI1 targets 150 kW peak power and 120 kW sustained power, roughly matching an Nvidia GB300 rack of 72 GPUs.
    • Design assumptions are about 250 watts per square meter for the solar array and about 1,400 watts per square meter for the double sided radiators, both expected to improve over time.
    • Radiators are oriented knife edge to the sun and radiate from both sides; each satellite has roughly a 70 meter wingspan.
    • Each satellite carries on the order of a terabit of laser link connectivity.
    • Satellites connect to each other or to the Starlink constellation by laser, and Starlink relays data to the ground over existing Ka and Ku antennas plus laser to ground links.
    • At 600 to 800 km altitude latency is only around 3 milliseconds, since light travels about 300 km per millisecond.
    • SpaceX has about 10,000 Starlinks in orbit and is the only operator with experience flying constellations at that scale.
    • The constellation could eventually grow to thousands or even up to a million satellites; space is big enough to pack and fly them safely.
    • The satellites and solar will be built in Bastrop, Texas, where a solar manufacturing facility is already under construction.
    • The AI satellite production building and solar production are expected to be operating at reasonable volume by the end of next year.
    • SpaceX keeps making Starlink user terminals in Bastrop and is turning on new, higher volume production lines, with possibly a few hundred million terminals eventually, plus a direct to cell constellation that connects straight to phones.
    • Initial chips are off the shelf: the reference design targets Nvidia GB300 or Rubin chips, with a TPU reference design as well, and essentially any existing chip can be put into orbit.
    • The chip industry looks set to reach maybe 100 gigawatts a year of AI compute, far short of the terawatt SpaceX wants.
    • To close that gap, SpaceX plans a “Terafab,” a chip factory around 100 million square feet, roughly 10 times the size of Tesla Gigafactory Texas.
    • A terawatt of chip output per year is like a billion full reticle equivalent chips, each running about a kilowatt, plus a lot of memory.
    • The timeline targets an annualized rate of a gigawatt per year of space compute by the end of next year, scaling roughly 10x per year: 10 GW in about 2.5 years, 100 GW in about 3.5 years, then a terawatt per year, which is 1,000 GW and about twice current US electricity consumption.
    • Beyond a terawatt, the only path to another 1,000x is the moon, using local production of photovoltaics, solar, and radiators so most mass does not have to be shipped from Earth.
    • A lunar mass driver (a linear electric motor or rail gun) could accelerate AI satellites into deep space without rockets, thanks to the moon’s lack of atmosphere and one sixth gravity.
    • Bringing that much mass to the moon would also make it possible for anyone who wants to go to the moon to go, and even live there.
    • Musk stresses none of this requires magic; the AI satellite reuses Starlink V3 solar technology, and he frames the timelines as a best guess rather than a promise.
    • SpaceX has acquired xAI, now referred to as SpaceX AI, folding its AI ambitions directly into the space company.

    Detailed Summary

    The Kardashev Scale and Why Earth Barely Registers

    Musk opens with the question of how you objectively measure a civilization’s progress, the metric an alien species would use to calibrate us. The answer he reaches for is the Kardashev scale, named for the Russian physicist who proposed it, which ranks civilizations by the power they harness: a planet’s worth (Type 1), a star’s worth (Type 2), or a galaxy’s worth (Type 3). Humanity is extremely low even on Type 1. To dramatize the scale of the sun, he notes it is about 99.86% of all the mass in the solar system, with most of the rest being Jupiter and Earth a tiny dust mote in the miscellaneous category. The incident solar energy hitting Earth’s cross section is only about a half billionth of the sun’s total output, and we capture a vanishingly small slice of even that.

    Why Energy at Scale Means Going to Space

    Because roughly 70% of Earth is water and much of the remaining land sits at the poles or in far northern regions where solar is weak and few people live, the usable area for ground solar is small. To reach any meaningful percentage of the sun’s energy, you have to go to space. Musk sets the aspiration at a millionth of the sun’s output as a first “micro” milestone, noting that even 1% would make a civilization vastly more powerful than today’s. Orbit also solves two practical problems at once: you avoid building enormous terrestrial power plants, and cooling becomes easier because waste heat can be radiated straight into the vacuum rather than fought against in an atmosphere.

    The Three Limiting Factors

    Scaling to space based compute comes down to three things: a large mass to orbit capability, a lot of solar power and radiators, and a lot of AI chips. To put a hundred gigawatts and ultimately a terawatt into space, you need a terawatt of solar generation, the radiators to reject the heat, and a terawatt of AI chips. The rest of the conversation works through each limiting factor in turn, starting with the one SpaceX has spent two decades on.

    Starship and the Reusability Breakthrough

    Starship supplies the mass to orbit. Musk argues that full and rapid reusability is the fundamental breakthrough required for both multiplanetary life and climbing the Kardashev scale, since expendable rockets are simply too expensive and you cannot build enough of them. Every other mode of transport, from cars to planes to bicycles, is reusable; rockets are uniquely hard because Earth has a deep gravity well and thick atmosphere, which is why many prior reusable rocket attempts were abandoned. SpaceX pushes mass optimization to the extreme, even catching the booster with the launch tower instead of carrying heavy landing legs. The goal beyond catching the rocket is reflying it with no refurbishment, like an aircraft. Starship V3 already more than doubles the Saturn V’s thrust, V4 will be roughly triple, and the vehicle is the largest and most powerful moving object ever made, targeted to fly more than once per hour. SpaceX already lifts an estimated 85 to 90% of all Earth mass to orbit, and plans to scale from about 2,500 tons per year to millions of tons per year, reaching a million tons per year in roughly three years.

    Inside the AI Satellite (AI1)

    The team explains that a data center in space is not a building with engines bolted on; it reduces to chips plus the power and cooling to run them. The AI satellite, dubbed AI1, is actually simpler than a Starlink satellite because it skips the complex phased array and parabolic antennas, leaving mostly solar cells, a radiator, and some laser links. The draft version targets 150 kW peak power and 120 kW sustained, matching roughly what an Nvidia GB300 rack of 72 GPUs draws. Design assumptions are about 250 watts per square meter of solar array and about 1,400 watts per square meter for double sided radiators oriented knife edge to the sun, both numbers expected to improve. The result is a craft with around a 70 meter wingspan and roughly a terabit of laser connectivity. Compute racks link to each other or to the Starlink constellation by laser, and data reaches the ground via existing Ka and Ku antennas or laser to ground links. From 600 to 800 km up, latency is only about 3 milliseconds, since light travels 300 km per millisecond, so the common worry about high latency does not apply.

    Operating a Constellation of a Million Satellites

    The satellites are large, but space is enormous, so even thousands or up to a million of them would not crowd orbit; viewed against the Earth they are nearly invisible. SpaceX leans on hard won operational experience, with about 10,000 Starlinks already flying and a unique track record of operating constellations at that scale safely. Knowing how tightly satellites can be packed and flown without collisions is treated as the number one constraint when designing the constellation.

    Manufacturing in Bastrop, Texas

    The satellites and solar will be built in Bastrop, Texas, in a facility the hosts describe as already massive and about to be dwarfed by what comes next. A solar manufacturing facility is already under construction, and the AI satellite production building will follow, with both expected to operate at reasonable volume by the end of next year. The same site keeps producing Starlink user terminals and is spinning up new, higher volume lines. Musk projects there could eventually be a few hundred million Starlink terminals, alongside a direct to cell constellation that connects straight from a phone to space for high bandwidth communication.

    Chips, the Terafab, and the Road to a Terawatt

    In the near term, SpaceX simply launches chips that already exist. The current reference design targets Nvidia GB300 or Rubin chips, with a TPU reference design as well, and essentially any existing chip can be flown. The problem is that the chip industry as a whole may only reach about 100 gigawatts a year of AI compute, which does not answer how you get to a terawatt. The answer is a gigantic chip factory, a “Terafab” around 100 million square feet, roughly ten times the size of Tesla Gigafactory Texas, big enough that Musk jokes about needing Starship point to point to cross it. Even with no new fundamental breakthroughs, scaling existing chip technology to a terawatt of output per year is, from a logic die standpoint, like a billion full reticle equivalent chips each running a kilowatt, plus a lot of memory. The stated timeline is an annualized gigawatt per year of space compute by the end of next year, then scaling roughly an order of magnitude per year: about 10 GW in 2.5 years, 100 GW in 3.5 years, and eventually a terawatt per year, which is 1,000 GW, about twice the current electricity consumption of the United States. Musk repeatedly flags these as best guesses, not promises.

    The Moon, a Mass Driver, and the Next 1,000x

    Asked why stop at a terawatt, Musk says a terawatt is actually very small. Getting another three orders of magnitude, a 1,000x jump, points to the moon. The plan is local lunar production of photovoltaics, solar, and radiators, so that most of the mass does not have to be transported from Earth, with chips either shipped up or eventually made on the moon. Because the moon has no atmosphere and only one sixth of Earth’s gravity, you can accelerate AI satellites into deep space without a rocket, using an electromagnetic mass driver, essentially a rail gun or linear electric motor. A side benefit of moving that much mass to the moon is that anyone who wants to go to the moon would be able to, and could even live there. The team closes on the excitement of building a whole new kind of satellite and the sci fi prospect of a mass driver on the moon.

    Notable Quotes

    “We currently use much less than a trillionth of the power output of the sun. And a trillion is a million times a million.”

    Elon Musk, on how far humanity sits from harnessing the sun’s energy

    “The sun is about 99.86% of all mass in the solar system.”

    Elon Musk, dramatizing the scale of the star we orbit

    “You’re an extremely kick-ass civilization if you get to 1% of the sun’s energy.”

    Elon Musk, on what a meaningful Kardashev milestone would look like

    “Reusability is the fundamental breakthrough that is necessary to make life multiplanetary, as well as to ascend the Kardashev scale.”

    Elon Musk, on why Starship matters

    “An AI satellite is essentially a lot of solar cells, a radiator, and you still need some laser links, but you don’t have all of the super complex antennas that you have on a Starlink satellite.”

    Elon Musk, on why the orbital data center is simpler than Starlink

    “There’s not some magic that’s necessary that doesn’t exist for the AI satellites.”

    Elon Musk, on reusing existing Starlink technology

    “We expect that the Terafab is going to be around 100 million square feet, which is 10 times the size of the Tesla Gigafactory Texas.”

    Elon Musk, on the chip factory needed to reach a terawatt

    “The only way that we can really see that you can achieve that is on the moon with a mass driver.”

    Elon Musk, on scaling another 1,000x beyond a terawatt

    Watch the full conversation here: Elon Musk and the SpaceX team on AI satellites and climbing the Kardashev scale.

    Related Reading

    • Kardashev scale (Wikipedia), background on the Type 1, 2, and 3 framework that anchors the entire conversation.
    • Starship (SpaceX), the official page for the fully reusable vehicle behind the mass to orbit numbers.
    • Starlink, the constellation whose solar arrays, laser links, and operations the AI satellites are built on.
    • Mass driver (Wikipedia), the electromagnetic launch concept proposed for flinging satellites off the moon.
    • Nvidia GB300 (Nvidia), the GPU rack whose power profile defines the first AI satellite’s compute target.

  • Thomas Laffont of Coatue on the $4 Trillion AI IPO Wave: SpaceX, Anthropic, OpenAI, and Why the New Unicorn Economy Is Healthier

    Thomas Laffont, co-founder of the $55 billion hedge fund Coatue Management, made his All-In Podcast premiere with a data-dense walk through what he calls a once-in-a-generation moment for the unicorn economy. In front of Chamath Palihapitiya, Jason Calacanis, David Sacks, and David Friedberg, he argued that a roughly $4 trillion wave of private value is about to hit the public markets, led by SpaceX, Anthropic, and OpenAI, and that the new AI-driven unicorn economy is actually healthier than the one that came before it. You can watch the full presentation and Q&A on YouTube.

    TLDW

    Laffont presents Coatue’s slide deck on the state of the unicorn economy and argues it has rebalanced after the excesses of 2021. The average unicorn is up about 70 percent since September 2024, AI keeps taking a bigger share of all fundraising, and the model has shifted from many small unicorns to fewer companies each raising far more, with funding per unicorn up roughly 5x since 2021. He introduces a “Magnificent 8” private index (SpaceX, Stripe, Anthropic, Databricks, Revolut, ByteDance, Anduril, and more) worth nearly $4 trillion that has crushed the public Mag 7, then shows that exits are finally thawing as SpaceX heads to an IPO in weeks and Anthropic confidentially files its S1. He lays out Coatue’s “CODE” framework for why SpaceX gets more valuable the more it launches, a counterintuitive finding that the odds of a 10x actually rise as companies get bigger (31 percent for $100 billion-plus centicorns), the explosive revenue ramp of OpenAI and Anthropic past Workday, ServiceNow, Adobe, Salesforce, and now the hyperscalers, a three-pillar map of where AI revenue comes from (consumer, ads, enterprise), and the AI memory thesis. The Q&A with Chamath and Calacanis digs into the power law, K-shaped outcomes, whether these valuations are disconnected from reality, the public market as the great antiseptic, and what happens when trillions in private value finally recycles back through GPs and LPs.

    Thoughts

    The most useful idea in the talk is not the $4 trillion headline, it is the cohort-health chart. Laffont splits unicorns into eras and shows that the pre-2021 cohort was healthy, roughly 80 percent had raised again or exited 20 quarters after minting, while the giant 2021 ZIRP cohort of 479 companies is stuck with under 20 percent doing either. That single comparison reframes the whole AI boom. The bullish read is that the 2024 AI cohort is small, concentrated, and cash-generative, so it looks more like the healthy pre-ZIRP group than the 2021 hangover. The bearish read is that we are watching the same movie with bigger numbers, and the test only comes when these companies face public markets. Laffont is honest that we do not yet know which cohort the AI class resembles, and that intellectual humility is what makes the deck credible rather than promotional.

    The SpaceX “CODE” framework is the sharpest analytical move of the presentation. Most people would assume a launch business gets cheaper per launch as it scales. Laffont shows the opposite, the market pays more per launch as cadence rises, and explains it as a phase change in business quality: from one-time government launch revenue, to a single recurring-revenue constellation, to multiple constellations, to a platform with optional upside in space data centers, the moon, and Mars. It is a clean way to think about any company that climbs from a project business to a platform business, and it applies far beyond rockets. The lesson for investors is that valuation can rationally expand even as unit economics look like they should compress, because the nature of the revenue underneath is changing.

    The counterintuitive 10x odds finding deserves more attention than it got in the room. Conventional wisdom says the bigger you are, the harder it is to grow, so a $100 billion company should be less likely to 10x than a $10 billion one. Coatue’s data says the reverse: centicorns have a 31 percent shot at a 10x, far higher than the 8 percent a unicorn has at becoming a decacorn. Laffont’s explanation is a filtering mechanism, every step up validates a compounding advantage and durability of earnings, so survivors are increasingly the kind of business that keeps compounding. This is essentially a quantitative restatement of quality investing, and it is the intellectual backbone of the LP strategy the besties tease out, just buy whoever reaches $100 billion and hold.

    Where the argument gets genuinely contested is valuation, and the panel does not let it slide. The pushback that “these are not fake companies” is true and important, OpenAI and Anthropic are growing faster than any software company in history, and Anthropic reportedly had a profitable month. But growth and reality do not settle the question of price when you are paying 50 to 100 times revenue for trillion-dollar private companies, as Bill Ackman pointed out earlier in the day. Laffont’s answer is the most grounded thing he says all session: the public market is the great antiseptic, it will not care about anyone’s slide deck, and he wants to see these names withstand short sellers and skeptics. That is the right posture. The deck is a thesis, not a verdict, and the verdict arrives roughly six months and one day after the IPOs, once passive flows and supply have washed through.

    The closing thread, that almost every sector is being transformed at once and we still do not have superintelligence, is the part worth sitting with. The risk in a presentation this bullish is treating the trend as destiny. The value is in the framing tools Laffont hands you, cohort health, phase-change business quality, the filtering odds, the three revenue pillars, and the antiseptic of public scrutiny. Use those to interrogate each name rather than to buy the index on faith, and the talk earns its premiere billing.

    Key Takeaways

    • Coatue Management is one of the most successful hedge funds of the last two decades with about $55 billion under management, and is raising roughly another billion dollars specifically to invest in AI.
    • The unicorn economy is up about 70 percent on average since September 2024, and the public market has made a similar move up over the same period.
    • The unicorn economy’s share of the NASDAQ rose significantly after 2015 but has plateaued in recent years, reflecting strong performance from public companies.
    • AI keeps increasing its wallet share of all venture fundraising, multiple years in a row now.
    • The composition of funding has changed. The unicorn “factory” peaked in the ZIRP era of 2021 and has normalized at a much lower level since.
    • Funding per unicorn has increased roughly 5x since 2021. There are fewer unicorns, and each one is raising more.
    • Cohort health, pre-ZIRP group: of about 73 unicorns, 20 quarters after minting roughly 80 percent had either raised a new round or exited, which is healthy.
    • Cohort health, 2021 group: of about 479 unicorns, 20 quarters in, fewer than 20 percent had exited or raised again. Far larger cohort, far worse outcomes.
    • The open question is which cohort the new 2024 AI cohort will resemble.
    • Funding is concentrating: the top 10 companies capture a large share, and it is a small number of AI companies, not all of them, with Anthropic and OpenAI raising massive rounds.
    • Laffont proposes a “Magnificent 8” private index: SpaceX, Stripe, Anthropic, Databricks, Revolut, ByteDance, Anduril, and more, spanning internet, AI, fintech, and space tech.
    • That private index represents almost $4 trillion of value and has crushed the traditional public Mag 7, with almost every name outperforming.
    • Exits are thawing. 2026 is on a good trend for cash returned versus consumed, not quite 2021 levels, with half a year still to go.
    • That trend does not yet include three imminent liquidity events: SpaceX (IPO expected in weeks) and Anthropic (confidentially filed its S1), whose combined value could exceed the prior decade of exits combined.
    • The ecosystem is far more balanced than when Laffont first presented at the 2024 All-In Summit, when it was consuming much more cash than it returned.
    • OpenAI and Anthropic revenue growth is unlike anything previously seen. Starting from January 2025, they passed Workday, then ServiceNow, then Adobe, then Salesforce, and are now bigger than Google Cloud and Azure.
    • On current forecasts, that revenue could pass AWS by the end of the year and exceed all of Microsoft by 2028.
    • Hyperscalers are not sitting still. The largest companies in the world are funding the disruption, investing unprecedented sums to enable the ChatGPT moment.
    • The SpaceX “CODE” framework: the number one driver correlated to SpaceX’s valuation is cadence of launches, and valuation per launch rises as launches increase.
    • Why per-launch value rises: business quality improves through phases, pre-constellation (one-time government revenue), initial ramp (one recurring-revenue constellation), scale (multiple constellations), and platform (space data centers, moon and Mars optionality).
    • Anthropic in particular is scaling like no company seen across the PC, internet, or mobile eras.
    • Counterintuitive 10x odds: a unicorn has about an 8 percent chance of becoming a decacorn, a decacorn has 8 to 13 percent odds of reaching $100 billion, but a centicorn ($100 billion-plus) has a 31 percent chance of a 10x.
    • Value creation has accelerated. It typically takes years to go from $500 billion to $1 trillion in market cap, yet recently three companies did it in one year and two did it in a matter of weeks.
    • Cerebras is the counterexample of slow success: years of dark periods and no new capital developing its technology, then a massive OpenAI contract that quintupled the company’s value ahead of its IPO.
    • Semiconductors are on a generational run, with the sector dramatically outperforming the index since the 2024 All-In Summit.
    • AI memory thesis: the more an AI system knows about you, the more useful it is, so memory per user could quintuple, which helps explain recent moves in memory companies.
    • Where the revenue is: the AI ecosystem is roughly $140 billion today, about $300 billion this year, and is expected to double in 2027.
    • Three revenue pillars: consumer (subscribers times ARPU), ads (about a quarter of Meta and Google ads are AI-enabled today, heading toward 100 percent and roughly $150 billion), and enterprise (tools like Claude Code and Codex inside businesses).
    • Disruption is hitting every sector: software, telco (Starlink-powered global phone calls), semis, energy (data centers reshaping Pennsylvania’s grid), auto (Ferrari’s electric and autonomous stumble), and consumer (GLP-1s reshaping food, alcohol, and wellness).
    • Final takeaways: the new unicorn economy is healthier thanks to AI, winners are compounding faster so the cost of not owning a winner is higher than ever, disruption is everywhere, and we do not even have superintelligence yet.
    • In the Q&A, both Anthropic and OpenAI publicly say they want to be public, and big outcomes now look likely to become liquid within roughly a 12-month window.
    • The valuation pushback: these are not fake companies, they generate substantial revenue at scale and grow faster than anything before, and Anthropic reportedly even had a profitable month.
    • The public market is framed as the great equalizer and antiseptic, but with passive buying the true price discovery may not land on day one, more like six months and a day after listing.
    • A floated LP strategy: wait for whoever reaches $100 billion and concentrate capital there as the least brittle, quickest-return bet, tempered by the warning that valuations are disconnecting from any historical metric (50x to 100x revenue).
    • An open risk: with so much capital, OpenAI and Anthropic could rationally start a price war, the way ride-sharing and food-delivery players once did, though heavy infrastructure spend complicates it.

    Detailed Summary

    The unicorn economy has rebalanced after 2021

    Laffont opens by reframing a market many assume is frothy. The average unicorn is up about 70 percent since September 2024, and the public market has tracked a similar climb, so private and public value are moving together rather than diverging. The unicorn economy’s share of the NASDAQ rose sharply after 2015 and then plateaued, which he reads as a sign of how strong public companies have become. Underneath the headline, the structure of funding has changed. The 2021 ZIRP era was a unicorn factory that minted enormous numbers of companies, and that machine has since normalized to a much lower level. The result is a barbell: fewer new unicorns, but each raising far more, with funding per unicorn up roughly 5x since 2021. AI sits at the center of this, taking a steadily larger share of all venture dollars for several years running.

    Cohort health is the real story

    The deck’s most important slide measures the health of the ecosystem by cohort. The pre-ZIRP cohort, about 73 unicorns, looks healthy: 20 quarters after becoming unicorns, roughly 80 percent had either raised a new round or exited. The 2021 cohort tells the opposite story. It is enormous, about 479 unicorns, and 20 quarters in, fewer than 20 percent had raised again or exited. That contrast sets up the central question of the talk. A new 2024 cohort of AI companies is forming, and no one yet knows whether it will resemble the healthy pre-ZIRP group or the bloated, stuck 2021 group. Laffont’s framing leans optimistic because the AI cohort is small and concentrated, but he is careful not to declare the answer.

    The Magnificent 8 and a $4 trillion private index

    Funding is not just flowing to AI, it is flowing to a handful of AI names, with the top 10 capturing a large share and Anthropic and OpenAI raising the biggest rounds. From this concentration Laffont builds a private index he half-jokingly calls the Magnificent 8, a number he expects to shrink as companies go public. The members span sectors: SpaceX, Stripe, Anthropic, Databricks, Revolut, ByteDance, and Anduril, covering internet, AI, fintech, and space tech. He says he would be comfortable owning that index for the next decade-plus. Collectively it represents almost $4 trillion of value and has outperformed the public Mag 7, with nearly every constituent beating that benchmark.

    Exits are thawing and a wall of liquidity is coming

    One of Laffont’s recurring concerns at past summits has been balance: the unicorn economy is great at consuming cash, but a healthy ecosystem must also return it. On that score 2026 is trending well, not quite 2021, but solid with half a year left. Crucially, that figure does not yet include three imminent events. SpaceX is expected to go public within weeks, and Anthropic confidentially filed its S1 the day of the talk. Adding those up, just a few companies could deliver more liquidity than the prior ten years combined. The takeaway is that the ecosystem that was dangerously out of balance in 2024 is now meaningfully more balanced, and improving.

    The revenue ramp past the hyperscalers

    The growth rates of OpenAI and Anthropic, Laffont argues, are unlike anything previously seen. Charting from January 2025, the leading AI labs passed Workday, then ServiceNow, then Adobe by year end, then Salesforce by January, and are now bigger than Google Cloud and Azure. On forecast, that revenue could surpass AWS by the end of the year and exceed all of Microsoft by 2028. He stresses that the hyperscalers are not passive bystanders, they are actively funding the disruption, pouring unprecedented capital into enabling the change that began with the ChatGPT moment.

    The SpaceX CODE framework

    Laffont devotes real time to how Coatue thinks about SpaceX. The single factor most correlated with SpaceX’s valuation is cadence of launches, which is intuitive for a launch business. The surprise is that valuation per launch has risen rather than fallen as cadence climbed. His explanation, the CODE framework, is that the quality of the business model improves the more SpaceX launches. In phase one, pre-constellation, you are simply proving rockets, with a few government customers and lumpy, unpredictable one-time revenue. In the initial ramp you stand up a constellation, which is an end market and a recurring-revenue business that grows with every satellite and subscriber. At scale you operate multiple constellations, and Laffont expects companies, governments, and militaries to want to own their own. Ultimately it becomes a platform, with new businesses layered on top, from space data centers to the optionality of the moon and Mars.

    Counterintuitive odds and the speed of value creation

    Coatue bucketed companies and asked the odds of a 10x within each. A unicorn has roughly an 8 percent chance of becoming a decacorn. A decacorn has 8 to 13 percent odds of reaching $100 billion. But a centicorn, $100 billion or more, has a 31 percent chance of a 10x, counting both public and private companies. The bigger you are, the better your odds, which inverts intuition. Laffont pairs this with the sheer speed of recent value creation. Going from $500 billion to $1 trillion in market cap normally takes years, yet three companies did it in a single year and two did it in a matter of weeks. He also offers Cerebras as the patient counterexample, a chip company that endured years of dark periods and no new capital before a massive OpenAI contract quintupled its value ahead of IPO, part of a broader generational run for semiconductors.

    AI memory and where the revenue actually comes from

    A throughline from the day’s other speakers is that the more an AI knows about you, the more useful it is, from your restaurant preferences to your work context. Laffont turns that into a thesis: memory per user could quintuple based on what these systems require, which helps explain recent moves in memory companies. He then tackles the most contested question, where is the revenue. He sizes the AI ecosystem at about $140 billion today, roughly $300 billion this year, and doubling in 2027, built on three pillars. Consumer is subscribers times ARPU. Ads are the pillar people forget, with about a quarter of Meta and Google ads already AI-enabled and penetration heading toward 100 percent, a roughly $150 billion opportunity. Enterprise is the breakthrough category, exemplified by tools like Claude Code and Codex operating inside businesses.

    Every sector is being transformed at once

    What makes this era different, Laffont says, is that nearly every sector is being transformed simultaneously. Software is obvious, but look at telco, where he believes Starlink will soon power a device that lets you make a phone call anywhere on earth, attacking the global telco and broadband profit pool with a better product. Compute is driving massive change in semis, data centers are reshaping the energy equation in places like Pennsylvania, and the auto business is being upended, as Ferrari’s stumble introducing electric and autonomous technology showed. In consumer, GLP-1 drugs are profoundly changing consumption of food and alcohol and the broader focus on wellness. His takeaways close the loop: the new unicorn economy is healthier thanks to AI, winners are compounding faster so the cost of missing them is higher than ever, disruption is everywhere, and superintelligence has not even arrived yet.

    The Q&A: power law, valuation, and the public market test

    Chamath and Jason Calacanis press Laffont on what this means for allocators. The recurring theme is the power law and K-shaped outcomes, with gains consolidating into a small number of companies. The positive side, Laffont notes, is that outcomes are enormous and increasingly liquid within a 12-month window, and both Anthropic and OpenAI say they want to be public. The hard part is valuation. The besties cite Bill Ackman’s framing that investors are making venture bets on trillion-dollar companies at 50 to 100 times revenue. Laffont’s pushback is that these are not fake companies, they generate substantial revenue at scale and grow faster than anything before, and Anthropic reportedly had a profitable month. But he embraces the discipline ahead: the public market is the great antiseptic and will not care about anyone’s presentation, though with heavy passive buying, true price discovery may take roughly six months and a day rather than landing on day one. Asked whether the compounding is a market inefficiency or survivor bias, he declines to over-read a small sample, noting that Anthropic before Claude Code was a completely different company than after. The conversation closes on what happens when trillions recycle from GPs to LPs, the case for simply owning whoever crosses $100 billion, the risk of everyone crowding into three names, and the possibility of an eventual OpenAI versus Anthropic price war.

    Notable Quotes

    “So we have fewer unicorns that are each raising more.”

    Thomas Laffont, summarizing how funding per unicorn has risen roughly 5x since 2021

    “The reason is that the quality of SpaceX’s business model increases the more you launch.”

    Thomas Laffont, explaining the CODE framework and why valuation per launch rises with cadence

    “The winners are compounding faster than ever, which means the costs of not being in a winner are higher than ever.”

    Thomas Laffont, on the central risk of a power-law market

    “And by the way, we don’t even have super intelligence yet.”

    Thomas Laffont, closing his takeaways on how early the transformation still is

    “These are companies generating substantial revenue at scale that are growing faster than anything we’ve ever seen.”

    Thomas Laffont, pushing back on the idea that AI valuations rest on fake companies

    “It will be the great antiseptic. It will not care about my presentation.”

    Thomas Laffont, on the public market as the ultimate test for SpaceX, OpenAI, and Anthropic

    “Anthropic pre-cloud code was a completely different company than post cloud code.”

    Thomas Laffont, on why he won’t over-read a small sample of hyper-compounders

    “The power law rules our lives. All the great gains are being consolidated into small numbers of companies.”

    An All-In host, framing the Q&A on concentration in private markets

    This is a curated set of highlights. To hear the full presentation, the slide walkthrough, and the complete Q&A with Chamath and Jason Calacanis, watch the full conversation here.

    Related Reading

    • Coatue Management. Primary source for Thomas Laffont’s firm and the technology investing strategy behind the deck.
    • The All-In Podcast. The show and summit where Laffont made this premiere presentation.
    • Power law (Wikipedia). Background on the distribution Laffont and the hosts say governs venture and public-market returns.
    • The Magnificent Seven (Wikipedia). The public-market benchmark Laffont’s private “Magnificent 8” index is measured against.
    • Cerebras Systems. The AI chipmaker Laffont cites as the slow-grind IPO that was eventually transformed by a major OpenAI contract.