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  • Sam Altman on How to Start a Startup in the AI Era: Exponentials, Chaos, Compute Bottlenecks, and the Fight Against AI Authoritarianism

    More than a decade after his famous Stanford lectures on how to start a startup, Sam Altman sits down for a wide-ranging conversation about what has changed. His answer: almost everything. A ten-week-old startup today can ship what used to take a year, the ground is shifting faster than at any point in his career, and the defining fight of the moment is whether AI leads to broadly shared abundance or a new kind of authoritarianism. Along the way he covers the ChatGPT launch week, the decision to kill Sora to feed coding agents, his 28-country world tour, what Jony Ive taught him about design, and why he deleted TikTok.

    TLDW

    Altman argues that startups have their biggest edge when the ground is shifting, and it has never shifted faster, yet most founders are settling for “AI agents for enterprise vertical X” instead of building for the models of two years from now. He explains his core belief system (trust the exponential, in people, companies, and models), why operating in chaos is learnable but not teachable, and how a clear mission plus deep problem understanding tells you what to build. He walks through OpenAI’s bets: courting suppliers by showing them the research roadmap, the joint stock corporation as the industrial revolution’s real invention, why compute (transistors, then electrons) is the bottleneck, and why the world needs more focus on data centers that can build more data centers. He retells the ChatGPT million-user week, the Codex comeback against Claude Code, killing robotics for GPT-3 and Sora for coding agents, the coming third wave of persistent agents, real versus fake trends, Jony Ive’s problem-first design process, his TikTok addiction experiment, hiring fast movers and promoting executives internally, Masayoshi Son’s conviction, and why everyone will be busier, not idler, after superintelligence. The current fight, as he frames it: liberty versus a single machine god.

    Thoughts

    The most useful idea in this conversation is an arbitrage argument. Altman says the market has not priced in that scaling laws will continue, the same way it never fully priced in high-growth young founders. The practical move follows directly: start building the thing that is not economical this month but will be trivial in two years. Almost nobody does this. The gravitational pull toward “apply today’s agents to the easy wins” is exactly the kind of consensus behavior that produces competitive, low-upside companies. He is telling founders, fairly explicitly, that free money is sitting on the table for anyone willing to plan against the curve instead of the current model card.

    His line about algorithms versus data centers deserves more attention than it will get. Everyone in AI is obsessed with recursive self-improvement in software, algorithms that create better algorithms. Altman flips it into the physical world: data centers that can build more data centers, robot fleets powered by a data center’s own thinking, compounding infrastructure. Whether or not you buy the vision, it explains OpenAI’s capital allocation better than any press release. The company is behaving as if the constraint on intelligence is matter and energy, not ideas, and his blunt bottleneck ranking (transistors, then electrons) says the same thing in three words.

    The liberty versus safety framing is doing a lot of strategic work. Positioning the alternative to open access as “one single model as the machine god” makes decentralization sound like the only humane option, and it conveniently aligns with OpenAI’s commercial interest in putting its product in every hand on earth. That said, the underlying claim, that trading liberty for safety has been a long-term net loss every time humanity has tried it, is a serious argument, and he pairs it with a genuinely striking admission: one of the AI risks he worries about most is authoritarianism, a small number of people or companies deciding they need to control the world. Readers can decide how comfortably that sits alongside a trillion-dollar infrastructure buildout controlled by a small number of companies.

    There is also a quieter thread here about what can and cannot be transferred between people. Chaos tolerance is only learnable through reps. Strengths that come supernaturally cannot be explained, only observed, the way gamers study pros. Jony Ive’s leap from deep problem study to a fully formed idea is, by Altman’s own account, a step he does not understand. For a man whose company sells the automation of cognition, he keeps a surprisingly long list of things that resist being taught. That list is arguably a map of what stays valuable for humans, alongside his other candidate: betting with evolutionary biology, cooking, adventure, eating together.

    Finally, the TikTok confession is the most honest moment in the interview. The man building the next attention-capable device deliberately addicted himself to TikTok as product research, loved it, lost a Saturday afternoon to it, and deleted it because self-control was not enough. He then says, in nearly the same breath, that people will misuse the devices OpenAI ships with Jony Ive and that lives will get worse in ways we cannot imagine, and we will adapt. That is the entire ethical tension of consumer AI compressed into one anecdote, delivered by the person best positioned to do something about it.

    Key Takeaways

    • The biggest shift since the original How to Start a Startup lectures is what a tiny team can now do and how fast. A two-week-old startup Altman met had rebuilt an entire office productivity suite designed for AI as a first-class user, work he estimates would recently have taken a year.
    • Startups have their biggest inherent edge when the ground is shifting the most and when costs and cycle times are collapsing, which is happening in many places at once right now.
    • Most founders are building “AI agents for enterprise vertical X.” It will often work, but Altman doubts those will be the defining companies of the era, and he is surprised more people are not attacking crazy ambitious problems with the completely new toolset.
    • The single most important thing he would tell founders today: truly internalize that scaling laws will continue, and start working now on things that require smarter or cheaper models than exist this month.
    • His unifying belief system is a great trust in exponentials, whether in people, companies, or models. The market has still not adapted to either the founder version or the model version, which means there is free money in betting on both.
    • Operating in chaos is only learnable through reps, not teachable. Young founders’ key weakness is that they have not yet reached emotional peace with things constantly going wrong, and they pay for that education in unforced errors.
    • At YC office hours he could always identify new founders by their emotional state when describing problems. Veterans have survived enough company-killing events to stay calm.
    • The opposite of a bad experience is not a good experience, it is no experience. Borrowing Naval Ravikant’s image, a fast-forward button for your life would just end it, so be grateful for the bad days too.
    • A clear mission plus a deep understanding of the problem does most of the work of deciding what to build. OpenAI’s mission is to make intelligence extremely abundant, cheap, and broadly distributed.
    • One of the AI risks Altman worries about most right now is AI authoritarianism: a small number of people or companies thinking they need to control the world.
    • He frames the fight of the current moment as liberty versus a single model as machine god. Every time humanity has traded liberty for safety it has been a long-term net loss, so OpenAI’s answer is to empower people, with guardrails, and let society decide how to use the technology.
    • The key inputs to abundant intelligence (energy, chips, robots, data centers) are also exactly what you want immediately after you have abundant intelligence, because ideas still have to become things in the physical world.
    • Asked for the biggest bottleneck to continued scaling, his answer is four words: transistors, and then electrons, in that order.
    • Keeping suppliers on OpenAI’s timeline means showing them the upcoming models and research so they believe in the mission, then aligning their incentives with yours as much as possible. Orders alone get deprioritized.
    • Altman argues the most important invention of the industrial revolution was the joint stock corporation itself: incentive alignment, liability protection, and pooled capital let strangers cooperate beyond what any family business could do, and the curve of human welfare bent visibly after it appeared.
    • The chart people should study more is the fall of extreme poverty over the last hundred years, which he attributes to the ridiculous overperformance of capitalism.
    • He plans forward from the present guided by a small number of strongly held convictions about the future, rather than planning backward from a rigid 20-year vision. People with too many beliefs about the future end up chasing trends, like space companies turning into AI companies.
    • For over a decade the critical path to abundant intelligence has been clear enough that he never questioned the goal. Feeling close to superintelligence is the first thing that has made him think about what comes next (eventually, the ranch).
    • Get on planes in marginal situations. He recently took a very inconvenient two-overnight trip he cannot talk about, with a new baby at home, and it worked out. People systematically overestimate the risk of taking action.
    • The 2023 world tour (28 countries in 35 days, on Brian Chesky’s advice) happened because world leaders were nervous enough after GPT-4 that he sensed things were about to go very badly if nobody showed up to talk.
    • Simply getting people to explain out loud why they think a decision is high risk or low risk usually breaks through their intellectual blocks, because people are usually wrong in one direction or the other.
    • Corporate careers catastrophically suppress ambition. New founders arrive having always had a boss, punished since childhood for thinking too big; nearly every culture has a phrase like tall poppy syndrome for it. The cure is small repeated wins.
    • OpenAI’s superpower, in his telling, was principled conviction on something obvious that nobody else believed, plus assembling the pieces and talent around it. He was more worried they were drinking their own Kool-Aid than that everyone else was wrong.
    • By 2019 or 2020, Google should have run away with AI. OpenAI’s continued existence is, like AWS’s seven competition-free years, a business miracle that says something about how sclerotic big companies get.
    • On ChatGPT’s fifth day it crossed a million users. Researchers kept calling it a flash in the pan, but YC pattern recognition told him organic growth like that meant the quiet life was over: “we were being shot out of a cannon.”
    • There have been two giant AI form factors so far, chatbots and coding agents, and coding agents are going totally nuts. The third wave, coming soon: persistent agents that act as chiefs of staff, co-workers, and colleagues.
    • Codex was a deliberate kamikaze mission: OpenAI was way behind Claude Code, consensus said you never win against momentum, but coding mattered too much to recursive self-improvement to concede. The team pulled off what he calls a very rare thing in business history.
    • OpenAI repeatedly kills good things to make the best thing work better: robotics died for GPT-3, and Sora and the browser were shut down to pour compute and people into coding agents. Sora would have been super successful; it was still the right call.
    • Killing a project people love is never one meeting. It is a gradual realization that the compute, people, and product direction have a more important use, and people accept it because they understand the mission and the stakes.
    • There is too much focus on algorithms that create better algorithms and not enough on data centers that can create more data centers. With robots and an automated supply chain, a data center’s thinking power could drive the construction of its own copies.
    • The big idea is the easy part and carries none of the glory. Almost all of his time goes into execution: financing fabs, assembling chip design teams, getting the machinery of many companies to work together. Grinding.
    • Jony Ive taught him that really great design is way more about understanding the problem than the flash of insight. Ive studies a problem exhaustively (typefaces, engine sounds, materials, whole books of exploration) before letting himself think about solutions.
    • Altman calls the iPhone the greatest piece of technology humanity has yet made, but he no longer loves his relationship with it. He turned off nearly all notifications and deleted TikTok after an intentional research addiction got away from him.
    • Double down on strengths. The obsession with fixing weaknesses you will never be good at is a huge trap. And the meme that you can only hire for what you deeply understand is false: he cannot design, but thirty minutes with Jony Ive makes greatness obvious.
    • Organizational speed is about 90 percent determined by who you put in leadership roles. He evaluates everyone for whether they are a fast mover, and thinks executives should usually be promoted internally rather than hired from outside.
    • Real trends versus fake trends: a fake trend (VR for years) gets bought, half-loved, and shelved. A real trend (ChatGPT) becomes a persistent part of how people design their lives. The test is deep, enduring, daily use.
    • Technology keeps promising leisure and delivering ambition. Expectations rise, status is relative, and people want to be useful to each other, so everyone will be busier than expected after superintelligence, still complaining, secretly happy.
    • What stays valuable post-AI is what evolution built us for: cooking and eating together, adventure, quests, showing love through effort. Betting against evolutionary biology is usually a bad bet.
    • His last big failure of ambition: badly undershooting compute investment because he got psyched out by financial markets. He considers it a clear mistake he will not repeat.
    • The most painful thing in his last year had nothing to do with OpenAI: having kids while working this hard means missing pieces of a one-time thing, even as a present dad who does nothing but work and family.
    • A startup today still mostly looks like a startup of ten years ago because that is the received wisdom, and “using AI” usually just means using more Codex. Altman thinks it should look completely different, and only a few founders are trying.

    Detailed Summary

    The startup landscape has reset

    Ten years after his Stanford course, the biggest change is what a small team can do and how fast they can do it. A ten-week-old startup today looks nothing like one from 2016, and a startup that still looks like 2016 is in bad shape. What counts as a “hard startup” is changing so quickly that Altman admits he no longer has a perfect mental model for which things will be hard and valuable over a company’s lifetime: everyone says the physical world is where the value is because software is going free, but robots will get good, and even rockets may stop being hard. His conclusion is that times like this are precisely when startups have the biggest edge, because incumbency matters least when the ground is moving. His frustration is that so few founders act on it, defaulting to safe agent-wrapper plays instead of attacking the crazy thing with the new tools and planning for the models of two and four years from now.

    Exponentials as a belief system

    Asked whether years of mentally plotting founders’ growth trajectories prepared him to believe in model scaling curves, Altman generalizes: the common thread is trust in exponentials, whether the subject is a person, a company, or a model. It is evidently hard for people to hold this belief, which is why there is still free money in backing high-growth young founders, and why the market still underprices continued model progress. If he were still advising founders, getting them to wrap their heads around this would be his top priority, because it licenses the most profitable behavior available: building today what only tomorrow’s models make economical.

    Chaos, resilience, and the founder’s education

    Operating amid chaos, trusting you will figure it out, and not treating each crisis as the thing that kills you is, in Altman’s view, learnable only through repetition, never teachable. This is the real weakness of young founders: no career has given them emotional peace with constant malfunction, so they buy it with pain and unforced errors. At YC office hours he could tell a first-batch founder from a two-year veteran purely by emotional register. His reframe for enduring the bad stretches comes from Naval Ravikant: the opposite of a bad experience is not a good experience but no experience, and a fast-forward button for your life would simply end it. Since something will always be going wrong, gratitude for the bad days is a load-bearing skill.

    Mission, liberty, and the machine god question

    OpenAI decides what to tackle by combining a clear mission (make AI abundant, cheap, powerful, and in everyone’s hands) with a deep understanding of what blocks it: chips, energy, data centers, robots. Altman explicitly does not want OpenAI building every vertical on top of its own platform; he says a decentralized economy matters and that one of the AI risks he worries about most is AI authoritarianism. He frames today’s fight bluntly. Alignment and jobs remain unsolved, but the live question is whether the very real safety and economic concerns get used to justify one single model as machine god, or whether the technology is put messily into everyone’s hands. His answer rests on a historical claim: every time humanity has traded liberty for safety, it has been a long-term net loss. He also notes the elegant, or perhaps merely obvious, fact that the inputs to abundant intelligence (energy and robots) are the same things you most want right after you have it, since intelligence still has to manipulate matter.

    Incentives, suppliers, and the joint stock corporation

    Keeping the rest of the world on OpenAI’s timeline means talking to suppliers constantly and showing them the upcoming models and research until they believe, then aligning incentives as tightly as possible; a purchase order alone gets shuffled behind other priorities. Riffing on Charlie Munger’s line about always underestimating the power of incentives, Altman offers a revisionist history of the industrial revolution: the important invention was not any machine but the joint stock corporation, which added incentive alignment, liability protection, and capital pooling to a world of trust-based family businesses, enabling speculative technology development and serious financial systems. Draw all of human history and mark where the company was invented, and the curve changes shape. The fall of extreme poverty over the last century is, to him, the chart people should look at most, and the ridiculous overperformance of capitalism explains it. He pushes back gently on the host’s sociopath-CEO theory: the best CEOs he knows are high-ego, not sociopathic, driven by seeing how good they can get at the most interesting strategic game.

    The world tour and getting on planes

    Three years ago, right after GPT-4, world leaders were asking whether they needed to take control and shut things down. Sensing storm clouds, and advised by Brian Chesky, who had done an eight-city version for Airbnb, Altman compressed what could have been endless one-off trips into 28 countries in 35 days, living on a plane. Because the hops were mostly an hour at a time, jet lag was mild but exhaustion was total; near the end he began half-dreaming that he was waking in his childhood bed, which he read as a deep it-is-time-to-go-home signal. The tour lowered global tensions and taught him to batch international travel into 7 to 10 day chunks once or twice a year. The broader lesson he draws: people wildly overestimate the risk of most actions. Buying call options on Robinhood is risky; getting on a plane in a marginal situation is usually not. His recent unspeakable example: an inconvenient two-overnight trip with a new baby at home, taken reluctantly, that worked out. Codex is the example he can talk about: asking a team to win a category Claude Code already owned looked like a fool’s errand, and it produced what he calls one of the rare comebacks in business history, now the tool most of the best coders he knows use.

    From research lab to product company in five days

    OpenAI began as roughly a dozen people in Greg Brockman’s apartment saying “so here we are, what are we going to do? We should get a whiteboard.” It took a couple of years to find its groove. Running the research lab was, in Altman’s description, the coolest, least stressful, most intellectually satisfying job imaginable: a front-row seat to the most important work of the last century. He knew a product moment would eventually come and successfully deluded himself into acting like it would not. Then ChatGPT launched. Each day traffic peaked higher while researchers dismissed it as a PR flash in the pan, but he had seen enough organic growth curves at YC to recognize the spectral signature. On day five it crossed a million users and he went home and told Ollie: you have no idea how bad this is, our nice quiet life is about to go through a cannon. Running the product company shares almost nothing with running the lab; what YC did prepare him for was recognizing the moment. The pattern is now repeating: chatbots were wave one, coding agents are wave two and going nuts, and persistent agents (chiefs of staff, co-workers, colleagues) are the imminent third wave.

    Killing good things, compute, and self-replicating data centers

    The easy discipline is killing what is not working once you run out of ideas. The hard one is killing things that work: when GPT-3 took off, OpenAI shut down beloved robotics work; when coding agents took off, it shut down Sora and the browser, not because Sora would have failed (Altman says it would have been super successful) but because the compute and people had a more important use. Those calls are gradual realizations, not single meetings, and people accept them because the mission and stakes are understood. On infrastructure, which may become the biggest project of all time, OpenAI will not vertically integrate everything: chip design and model design belong together, electron production is a commodity. But he sees a deep imbalance between the field’s obsession with recursive algorithmic improvement and the neglected idea of data centers that can build more data centers, where a data center’s own intelligence drives robot fleets that construct its copies. Nearly all his time goes into the gritty execution behind this: financing fabs, assembling teams, making supply chains function, work he describes as grinding with none of the glory of big thoughts. His confessed failure of ambition is undershooting compute because financial markets psyched him out.

    Design, Jony Ive, and the device problem

    Working with Jony Ive taught Altman that great design is mostly deep problem understanding, not a flash of insight. Ive studies everything (the history of motorsport, cabin typefaces, engine sounds across decades) and writes literal books of exploration before allowing himself to think about solutions; the middle step, where understanding becomes a fully formed novel idea all at once, remains a mystery even up close. Altman calls the iPhone humanity’s greatest piece of technology while admitting he no longer loves his relationship with it: notifications are off for almost everything, including messaging apps, which he calls a big life upgrade. While building the Sora app he deliberately addicted himself to TikTok as research, loved it, believed he could control it, lost an hour, then a three-hour Saturday afternoon, briefly regained control, and finally deleted it. He is sure the devices OpenAI makes will be beautiful and empowering, and equally sure people will misuse them in ways that make lives worse before we adapt. He does not claim design as his own skill; he claims knowing greatness when he talks to it for thirty minutes, and rejects the meme that you can only hire in domains you deeply understand.

    People, speed, trends, and what stays human

    Organizational pace is 90 percent the people in leadership roles; management systems are rounding error. He sorts leaders into fast movers and slow movers, prefers promoting executives internally, and when hiring externally leans on long conversations, heavy reference checks, and casual trial collaboration. Raising ambition in people broken by corporate life takes time, and the mechanism is small repeated wins, not inspirational speeches, which he does not do. His real-versus-fake trend test, absorbed from mountains of YC data: fake trends (VR for many years) get purchased and shelved; real trends get woven into daily life the way ChatGPT has. Skills that come supernaturally to someone cannot be taught by explanation, only absorbed by studying the person in action, the way CS:GO players study pros. On the future of work, he expects the leisure promise to break the way it always has: expectations rise, status is relative, the desire to be useful persists, so a post-superintelligence world is a busier one, still complaining, secretly happy. What endures is what evolution shaped: cooking for people, eating together, adventure, quests. Betting against evolutionary biology is usually a bad bet. His own next thing, once broadly shared prosperity from superintelligence is on the glide path: eventually, the ranch. And the most painful thing of his year was not corporate at all, but the arithmetic of new fatherhood against the singularity’s work hours.

    Notable Quotes

    “I developed a great trust in exponentials in people or companies or models.”

    Sam Altman, on the belief system connecting his YC founder bets to AI scaling laws

    “Transistors and then electrons in that order.”

    Sam Altman, asked what the biggest bottleneck is to scaling AI unabated

    “Every time that humanity has traded off its liberty for safety it’s been a long-term net loss and so we are going to put this in the hands of people.”

    Sam Altman, framing the fight between AI authoritarianism and broad empowerment

    “I was more worried that we were drinking our own Kool-Aid than everybody else was wrong.”

    Sam Altman, on OpenAI’s early conviction that scaling would work

    “You have no idea how bad this is. You have no idea what’s about to happen. It’s not just bad for me, it’s bad for you, too. Like we have this nice quiet life, you know, it’s really wonderful. It’s about to like kind of go through a cannon.”

    Sam Altman, recounting what he said at home the day ChatGPT crossed a million users

    “There is relatively too much focus on algorithms that create better algorithms and not enough focus on data centers that can create more data centers.”

    Sam Altman, on the neglected physical half of recursive self-improvement

    “Really great design is way more about understanding the problem than the flash of insight.”

    Sam Altman, on the biggest lesson from working with Jony Ive

    “Betting against evolutionary biology is like usually a bad bet.”

    Sam Altman, on which human activities survive a world of superintelligence

    “Honestly, having kids and working really hard at the same time is brutal.”

    Sam Altman, naming the most painful thing of his last twelve months

    Watch the full conversation here.

    Related Reading

  • Jensen Huang Says the AI Apocalypse Is ‘Complete Nonsense’: NVIDIA’s CEO on AI Jobs, China, Open Source Models, the AI Bubble, and the Trillion-Agent Future (Axios Behind the Curtain)

    Sitting on the floor of a brand new chip factory in Fort Worth, Texas, NVIDIA CEO Jensen Huang gave Axios reporter Mike Allen one of his most combative and quotable interviews yet. In this episode of Behind the Curtain, the head of the world’s most valuable company dismisses AI doom scenarios as “complete nonsense,” argues that AI is creating jobs rather than destroying them, defends Chinese open source models like Kimi and DeepSeek, explains why the AI build out is not a bubble yet, and calls for Anthropic’s most powerful model to be made available to everyone.

    TLDW

    Huang covers the full sweep of the AI moment: Chinese export control threats and why he wants open research flows in both directions, why the world needs both closed models (Anthropic, OpenAI) and open models (Kimi, Qwen, DeepSeek, NVIDIA’s own Nemotron), why Wall Street misread the Kimi selloff exactly as it misread DeepSeek, the sovereign AI argument that no company or country should “outsource its alpha,” his evidence that AI is increasing jobs for radiologists, paralegals, and manufacturing workers, a sustained attack on AI doomers and the “made up” narratives of singularity, simulation, and machine consciousness, the CapEx-heavy economics of manufacturing intelligence via tokens, his claim that the bubble is not coming in the next five years because physical constraints (chips, memory, power, construction workers) are pacing the build out, his warm relationship with President Trump and his warning against knee-jerk regulation, his position that Claude Mythos should be available to all users, the coming era of a trillion AI agents, the “ChatGPT moment” for robots having already arrived, and closing life lessons on pain, suffering, practice, immigration, and why he refuses to wear a watch because “now is the most important time.”

    Thoughts

    The first thing to hold in mind while watching this: every single position Huang takes, without exception, maps to selling more GPUs. Open models are good (more diffusion, more compute). Closed models are also good (more services, more compute). Chinese models are good (more use, more compute). Doom talk is bad (fear slows adoption, which slows compute). The bubble is far away (keep buying compute). That perfect alignment between worldview and order book does not make him wrong, but it means his arguments deserve scrutiny on the merits rather than deference to his position. He is the most effective anti-doomer in the industry partly because he is the person with the most to lose if the world gets scared.

    That said, his strongest material is empirical, and it lands. The radiologist example is a direct rebuttal to one of the most famous predictions in AI history, Geoffrey Hinton’s 2016 claim that we should stop training radiologists. Huang’s version of events, that automating the scan-reading task let radiologists see more patients and demand for them grew, is a textbook case of what economists call the Jevons effect applied to labor. Whether his specific numbers (20 percent more radiologists, 10 percent more paralegals, 50 percent more manufacturing jobs) survive fact-checking, the structural argument that automating a task can grow the profession around it is historically well supported, and it is the single most useful reframe in the interview: your job is not your task, and when the task gets automated, the purpose remains.

    The open source security argument is the most intellectually serious part of the conversation and the one most directly aimed at his own customers. Huang praises Anthropic and OpenAI as businesses in one breath and then dismantles the “closed models are safer” position in the next: Linux runs the world’s digital infrastructure precisely because millions of people can inspect and harden it, and a world defended by one closed model is a world with a single point of failure. His call for “massively distributed, diverse defense” via open models in the hands of cybersecurity experts everywhere is a real policy position with real stakes, and it puts him closer to Meta’s historical stance than to the labs he supplies.

    The bubble section is where the skeptic should lean in. Allen hands him the most famous cursed phrase in financial history, “this time is different,” and Huang takes the bait enthusiastically: it is different, he says, because the demand is industrial rather than cyclical. Every bubble in history was justified by exactly this argument, including the railroads and the dot-com fiber build out that Huang implicitly invokes as precedent. But his supply-side observation deserves weight: bubbles pop when supply overshoots demand, and right now everything (chips, memory, packaging, power, land, construction labor) is short. A market that cannot build fast enough is at least not overbuilt yet. His own concession that “the bubble will come someday” and his refusal to vouch for years five through ten is more honest than the rest of the answer.

    Finally, notice the tension he never resolves. He says warnings about AI’s power are “well heeded,” that safety is the leaders’ responsibility, and that Anthropic must fix jailbreaks fast. He also says consciousness, singularity, and existential risk are “all made up,” and shrugs off the referenced Mythos jailbreak with “everything was fine, you and I are here having a conversation.” Those two postures, take the technology seriously enough to harden it but never seriously enough to fear it, are held together mostly by confidence. It is a bet that capability and controllability scale together. The doomers he mocks are making the opposite bet, and nothing in this interview actually settles which one is right.

    Key Takeaways

    • On reports that Chinese regulators may tighten export controls on AI models and semiconductors to keep them from the West: Huang hopes it does not happen, notes half the world’s AI researchers are Chinese, and says both sides should de-escalate and let the technology advance.
    • He opposes any US ban on Chinese models like Kimi: American companies should absolutely be allowed to use them, because downloaded open models can be fine-tuned, guardrailed, and run inside secure sandboxes and harnesses, and the “back door” fear is a misconception.
    • The world needs both closed and open models: use closed services (Anthropic, OpenAI) as much as possible because they are excellent and convenient, but science, cybersecurity, and sovereignty require open models.
    • Regulate applications of AI (medicine, transportation, autonomous vehicles), not the underlying technology, which is dual use and should advance as fast as possible.
    • NVIDIA’s China sales are “approximately zero today” and he has told investors to expect none; he would consider it an honor to return if both governments allow it.
    • The market misunderstood DeepSeek and is now misunderstanding Kimi the same way: great open models, wherever they come from, drive more AI use, which drives more NVIDIA computers, more data centers, and more services.
    • Open models are not adversarial to closed models: the most likely customer to upgrade to Anthropic or OpenAI is someone who already uses AI and wants it more convenient and better.
    • NVIDIA’s Nemotron open model exists for companies that must build their own AI for sovereignty, regulatory, privacy, or IP reasons. “We don’t have to be the frontier. We have to be at the frontier.”
    • The large language model is the brain; a harness (he names OpenClaw and Claude Code as examples) turns it into a working agent. With the right harness, Nemotron can be world-class for specific skills.
    • Cheap or free open source tokens are “fantastic” for the proprietary labs: free AI grows the population of people who realize they need AI, and running even a free model yourself usually costs more than renting a service.
    • Echoing the viral Palantir CEO interview: “Nobody should outsource their alpha.” Companies and countries should rent AI wherever they can but must build their own AI for domain-specific, proprietary, sovereign, secret, or regulated work.
    • For non-differentiating work (marketing automation, legal department productivity), outsource to the frontier labs as much as possible.
    • Nothing AI has done has truly surprised him; what society needs to realize is that automating tasks is increasing the number of jobs the world needs.
    • His jobs evidence: radiologists up roughly 20 percent because AI-automated scan reading lets them see far more patients; paralegals up roughly 10 percent for the same reason; US manufacturing jobs up roughly 50 percent in recent years because AI data centers require industrial might.
    • On the demonstrated ability of Anthropic’s Mythos to break into hardened systems: “it surprised me that people were surprised.” An AI that can write and debug software can necessarily find vulnerabilities; the same capability powers cyber defense.
    • His security architecture argument: one single model is one single point of attack and failure. Open models in the hands of cybersecurity experts worldwide create “massively distributed, diverse defense,” the same reason Linux is trustworthy.
    • Whether China has “caught up” does not matter: the race-with-a-finish-line framing is wrong, China manufactures more AI researchers than the rest of the world combined, holding China back is ill-conceived, and neither side can hold back the other.
    • “AI is not going to destroy all of our jobs. Someone who uses AI is going to take our jobs.” The biggest risk to the US is scaring industries and society out of adopting AI.
    • On doomer AI CEOs: warning is fine, warning with a solution is better, and making things up is “absolutely inappropriate.” End-of-humanity and half-of-jobs-destroyed claims are “complete nonsense” contradicted by all the evidence.
    • Asked why Asia loves him while America is anxious: “the doomers spend too much time theorizing about these science fiction outcomes, maybe it makes them sound smart.”
    • OpenAI and Anthropic are not in trouble from Chinese competition: “zero possibility” China runs US companies off the road, both labs are thriving, and their IPOs will be the most successful in human history.
    • On chip stocks down 18 percent after Kimi dropped: free AI is great for hardware, chips, and data centers; the market got it wrong with DeepSeek (NVIDIA fell about 30 percent) and is getting it wrong again.
    • AI cannot have peaked because diffusion into society and industry has barely begun; useful AI has finally arrived, and useful AI is profitable AI, citing coding agents companies happily pay hundreds of millions a year for.
    • The new IT industry is CapEx heavier than software because intelligence must be manufactured: machines produce the tokens behind every answer, image, protein, and robot maneuver, and the resulting productivity will more than pay for the build out.
    • A token is an embedding of knowledge and intelligence, and unlike pi it gets smarter over time; smarter tokens are more valuable, which is why token economics keep improving.
    • On the bubble: “The bubble will come someday. It’s just not today.” Very unlikely in the next five years; five to ten years depends on how fast the industry can build.
    • The build out is constrained in every direction (chips, memory, land, power, construction workers), and that constraint is healthy: it pushes out the day supply exceeds demand.
    • This cycle is “industrial-driven,” not seasonal or consumer-demand-driven: the world needs a new intelligence infrastructure layer on top of energy, internet, roads, and railroads, and the semiconductor industry needs to be 5 to 10 times larger within ten years.
    • He is not worried about customers issuing hundreds of billions in debt to buy his chips: these companies generate enormous cash, the compute platform shift is real, and the ROI question has been answered because AI is now demonstrably profitable.
    • He would use Kimi himself, with fine-tuning, guardrails, sandboxing, and access control, the same way the world already trusts open source software like Linux.
    • On Trump: they text, the president “remembers everything” including H20, H200, Blackwell, and Rubin, and the Fort Worth factory they are sitting in is a direct result of their first conversation about reindustrializing America.
    • His warning to the administration: do not over-correct based on science fiction narratives about AI consciousness; talk to many CEOs and scientists, not one or two, and take time to be informed before regulating.
    • On the government taking an equity stake in NVIDIA: unnecessary, because the US already has a stake via $10 billion in taxes paid last year, job creation, and the stock market holdings of most Americans.
    • Claude Mythos should “absolutely be available to everyone,” not just selected institutions; it is Anthropic’s job to harden it and patch jailbreaks fast, and he notes that when it was jailbroken “everything was fine.”
    • On distillation of closed models: learning from other intelligence is fundamental (soon the internet will be 99 percent AI-generated content anyway), but violating terms of service or privacy is not okay and should be handled through existing legal channels.
    • NVIDIA has 6,500 employee families in Israel he is concerned for; he remains bullish on the UAE reinventing itself from an oil economy into an AI hub.
    • NVIDIA runs about 50,000 employees and may reach only 75,000 in ten years, “as small as possible,” because strategy means maximizing impact per unit of resource.
    • Jobs that are a single task (customer service call centers) will be automated; jobs with purpose survive because purpose does not change when the task is automated. “Don’t mistake your task for the job.”
    • In 10 to 20 years, photos of people typing at keyboards will look like old photos of typing pools with IBM Selectrics: typing was never the job, solving problems and creating value was.
    • The ChatGPT moment for robots has already arrived (a robot can reason through “put the apple in the drawer,” including opening the drawer first); useful robots in ordinary life within 3 to 4 years would not surprise him.
    • The agentic era’s capability has arrived and diffusion is next: the future holds 100 billion to a trillion agents running constantly, and agents will not become computers, they will use computers, which is why compute demand explodes.
    • $300 billion has been invested into US venture capital startups in the last six months, and he tells his nieces and nephews that great fortunes will be created on a laptop.
    • Life lessons: greatness requires “plenty of pain and suffering” and practice when nobody is watching; under maximum stress, time slows down the way athletes describe, and that comes from repetition.
    • He advises every bright mind in the world to come to America, the country built by immigrants that will need amazing immigrants in the future.
    • He wears no watch and refuses to let Outlook manage his life: “now is the most important time.” His perfect Saturday: dogs, work, family dinner, a cocktail, and he notes every weekend is exactly like that.

    Detailed Summary

    Export Controls Cut Both Ways

    The interview opens on a Financial Times report that Chinese regulators are considering export controls of their own, restricting Chinese AI models and semiconductors from reaching the West. Huang’s response is de-escalation in both directions: half the world’s AI researchers are Chinese, groundbreaking research flows from both countries, and once one side reaches for export controls, everyone starts thinking in those terms. He is confident the US will continue to lead as long as government supports rather than constrains its companies. Asked whether the US should ban Chinese models like Kimi, he rejects the premise: downloaded open models run inside harnesses and sandboxes with security, privacy, and access controls, and the idea of hidden back doors phoning home to China is a misconception. His China sales, he notes pointedly, are approximately zero today, so his position is not about protecting revenue he does not have.

    Open and Closed Models Both Win

    Huang’s framework is consistent: rent closed models (Anthropic, OpenAI, which he personally uses along with Perplexity) whenever you can because they are excellent and convenient, and build on open models only when you must, for sovereignty, regulation, privacy, or proprietary domain reasons. This is the pitch for NVIDIA’s own Nemotron open model family, which he positions not as a frontier competitor but as raw material for companies that need custom AI: “We don’t have to be the frontier. We have to be at the frontier.” He describes the modern stack in plain terms: the large language model is the brain, and a harness (he cites OpenClaw and Claude Code) turns it into a working agent. Open, cheap, and free models are on-ramps that grow the total population of AI users, which is why he insists the labs should not fear them: the person most likely to pay for Claude is someone already using AI who wants it better and easier.

    Kimi, DeepSeek, and Wall Street’s Repeated Mistake

    Chip stocks fell 18 percent in the month after Kimi dropped, echoing the roughly 30 percent NVIDIA drawdown when DeepSeek landed. Huang says the market got it wrong both times and for the same reason: free and open AI is great for hardware, because great models drive use, use drives data centers, and data centers drive chips. He runs through the models he considers extraordinary (Kimi 3, Qwen, Nemotron, GPT 5.6, Codex, Claude Code) and lands on his core claim about this moment: useful AI has finally arrived, and useful AI is profitable AI. Companies like NVIDIA happily pay hundreds of millions of dollars a year for coding agents doing high-value work, which funds more AI, which he describes as a flywheel that has now started.

    Don’t Outsource Your Alpha

    Allen raises the viral Palantir CEO warning about handing your intellectual property to frontier labs, noting Huang’s unique position as both a top customer and top supplier of those labs, including using their models for chip design. Huang agrees with the principle without hesitation: nobody, no company, no country should outsource its alpha or its intelligence. His dividing line is specificity: work that is domain-specific, proprietary, sovereign, secret, or regulated must be done in-house on your own models, while generic productivity work like marketing automation or legal department support should be outsourced to the labs as aggressively as possible. The same logic scales to nations, which he says cannot outsource their fundamental intelligence to a third party.

    The Jobs Evidence

    Asked what AI has done that scared or awed him, Huang says essentially nothing surprised him, including the demonstrated ability of Anthropic’s Mythos to penetrate hardened systems (“it surprised me that people were surprised,” since an AI that debugs software can obviously find vulnerabilities). What he wants the world to notice instead is the labor data. Radiology reading has been substantially automated, and the number of radiologists is up roughly 20 percent because they can now see the enormous backlog of patients. Paralegals are up roughly 10 percent by the same mechanism. Manufacturing jobs are up roughly 50 percent in recent years because AI data centers require industrial construction. His formulation of the real risk: AI will not take your job, someone who uses AI will, and the worst thing America could do is scare its own industries out of adopting the technology.

    Against the Doomers

    This is the section that gives the interview its title. Huang says warning people is fine, warning with a solution is better, and making things up is absolutely inappropriate. The end of humanity: complete nonsense. Half of American jobs destroyed: complete nonsense. The singularity, living in a simulation, machine consciousness: “all made ups,” fun science fiction he enjoys hearing from “many of those leaders and my friends,” but Hollywood, not ground truth. Asked why he is mobbed by fans in Asia while the American mood is hostile, he suggests the doomers theorize about science fiction outcomes because “maybe it makes them sound smart.” His prescription for the industry is to tell the factual story, that AI is creating millions of jobs, rather than a made-up narrative that frightens the public and, more dangerously in his view, frightens policymakers. His closest thing to a concession: the closest thing to true AI is R2-D2 and C-3PO, “and who doesn’t want R2-D2 and C-3PO?”

    CapEx, Tokens, and the Bubble Question

    Huang’s economic argument for the build out runs through the token. Unlike the CapEx-light software era, intelligence must be manufactured: machines generate the tokens behind every answer, every image, and eventually every protein, chemical, and robot movement. A token is an embedding of knowledge, and unlike a static number it gets smarter over time, which makes it more useful, more valuable, and worth paying more for. On the bubble, he does not deny one is possible: “The bubble will come someday. It’s just not today.” He rules it out for roughly five years and hedges on five to ten. His reasoning is that this cycle is industrial-driven rather than consumer-cyclical: the world is adding an intelligence layer on top of energy, internet, roads, and railroads, the semiconductor industry needs to be 5 to 10 times larger within a decade, and everything (chips, memory, optical interconnects, packaging, TSMC capacity, land, power, construction workers) is short. Those constraints pace the CapEx and push out the day supply overtakes demand. As for customers issuing hundreds of billions in debt to buy his chips, he says the companies are extraordinary cash generators and the ROI question has been settled by profitable coding agents.

    Trump, Washington, and the Over-Correction Risk

    Huang describes a genuinely warm relationship with President Trump: they text, the president remembers chip model numbers (H20, H200, Blackwell, and next-generation Rubin), and the Fort Worth factory hosting the interview traces directly to their first conversation about restoring American manufacturing. He praises Susie Wiles, Secretary Bessent, and Secretary Lutnick. But his message to the administration is a warning: signs point toward more restrictive AI policy, and he fears policymakers falling for science fiction narratives (consciousness, an imminent finish line in a US-China race) pushed partly by companies hoping regulation will advantage them. His advice: talk to many CEOs and scientists, not one or two, take time, and do not over-correct. He rejects the 100-meter-dash framing of the China race entirely, arguing the win is diffusion, not invention: America did not invent electricity or manufacturing, it applied them with more enthusiasm than anyone, and that is what made the country. Asked about the government taking equity stakes in AI companies, he calls it unnecessary: the US already holds a stake in NVIDIA through $10 billion in annual taxes, job creation, and the stock market.

    Mythos for Everyone, and the Distillation Question

    In the most newsworthy exchange, Allen asks whether the world is ready for Anthropic’s most powerful model, Claude Mythos, to be available to everyone rather than selected institutions. Huang’s answer is unambiguous: it should absolutely be available to everyone, it is Anthropic’s responsibility to harden it, and jailbreaks are the nature of software, to be patched as fast as they are found. He points to the referenced jailbreak incident and observes that “everything was fine,” while noting that holding Anthropic back serves no American interest, especially since open models are available regardless. On distillation, he splits the question: AIs learning from other AIs is fundamental and inevitable (within a few years, he predicts, the internet will be 99 percent AI-generated content, so every model is distilling other AIs anyway), but violating terms of service or privacy is not acceptable, and aggrieved providers should pursue the conventional legal remedies that already exist.

    Robots, Agents, and the Next Era

    Huang argues the ChatGPT moment for robots has already happened, on his definition: the 2022 ChatGPT moment was not when AI became useful (that took four more years) but when it did something surprising, and a robot that can reason through “put the apple in the drawer,” including opening the drawer first, clears that bar today. Useful everyday robots within three to four years would not surprise him. On the agentic era, capability has arrived and diffusion is what comes next: where perhaps 100 million humans use computers at any given moment today, the future holds 100 billion to a trillion agents of every kind running constantly. His line: agents are not going to become computers, agents are going to use computers, and that is the deepest driver of compute demand.

    Life Lessons from 33 Years at the Helm

    The closing stretch turns personal. On keeping NVIDIA at roughly 50,000 employees (maybe 75,000 in ten years, “as small as possible”) while peers run six figures, he says strategy is using limited resources with maximum precision, a craft he has practiced longer than any CEO in tech history: “this is my kung fu.” On which jobs disappear, he distinguishes task from job from purpose: call center tasks will be automated, but a radiologist’s purpose (ending human suffering) survives the automation of scan reading, and typing was never the job in the first place. Born in Taiwan and sent to a rough American boarding school at nine, he calls America the greatest country in the world because open discourse and freedom let it work through its disagreements, and he urges bright minds everywhere to come. On greatness: no athlete just happens to be great, it is practice when nobody is watching, setbacks, losing, and “plenty of pain and suffering” that elevate craft, character, and resilience. He wears no watch because now is the most important time, and his perfect Saturday (dogs, work, family dinner, a cocktail) is, he says, exactly what every weekend already looks like.

    Notable Quotes

    “And so the fact that this is going to be the end of humanity, it’s complete nonsense. The fact that this is going to destroy half of the American jobs. It’s complete nonsense. And all of the facts, all of the evidence point exactly to the opposite.”

    Jensen Huang, on AI doom predictions from fellow tech leaders

    “AI is not going to destroy all of our jobs. Someone who uses AI is going to take our jobs, and so we have to make sure that we adopt AI, diffuse AI into the industries as quickly as possible.”

    Jensen Huang, on the real employment risk of the AI era

    “Nobody should outsource their alpha. Nobody should outsource their intelligence. No country should.”

    Jensen Huang, agreeing with the Palantir CEO’s warning about handing IP to frontier labs

    “We don’t have to be the frontier. We have to be at the frontier.”

    Jensen Huang, on NVIDIA’s Nemotron open source model strategy

    “The bubble will come someday. It’s just not today.”

    Jensen Huang, on whether the AI build out is a bubble

    “It is made up that there’s going to be a singularity. It’s made up that somehow we’re living in a simulation. These are all made ups.”

    Jensen Huang, on science fiction narratives he says are scaring the public and policymakers

    “The closest thing to true AI is R2-D2 and C-3PO. And who doesn’t want R2-D2 and C-3PO?”

    Jensen Huang, on how to inoculate the public against fear of AI

    “These two companies will be the most successful IPOs in human history.”

    Jensen Huang, predicting the public debuts of OpenAI and Anthropic

    “If your job is the task, then it’s very likely that when that task is automated, your job will be eliminated or changed.”

    Jensen Huang, on which jobs disappear in an industrial revolution

    “Because now is the most important time. I refuse to let Outlook manage my life, and I refuse to let a watch manage my life.”

    Jensen Huang, on why he does not wear a watch

    Watch the full conversation between Jensen Huang and Mike Allen on Axios Behind the Curtain here.

    Related Reading

  • Ken Griffin on AI, the Golden Age of Entrepreneurs, and the Taiwan Chip Risk That Would Cut US GDP 8 Percent: Inside the Citadel Founder’s Goldman Sachs Great Investors Interview

    Ken Griffin, founder and CEO of Citadel, sat down with Goldman Sachs’ Raj Mahajan at the firm’s Apex Symposium (recorded June 2, 2026) for this episode of Goldman Sachs Exchanges: Great Investors. It is their third public conversation in seven years, and Griffin is unusually candid: about the Friday he went home “shocked and depressed” over AI, the agentic system inside Citadel that compresses six weeks of PhD-level work into two hours, why a Chinese move on Taiwan would throw the US into a depression within six months, and the one question every hedge fund investor should ask their GP.

    TLDW

    Griffin names his two proudest leadership calls: dragging Citadel back to the office five days a week before it was acceptable (citing Fed research that remote work has hurt young Americans’ employment more than AI has), and Citadel’s pandemic role, from getting the FDA to approve experimental COVID drug trials in 72 hours to shaping the incentive design behind Operation Warp Speed, which he credits with saving roughly half a million American lives. On markets, he explains why the S&P sits at all-time highs despite wars in the Middle East and Europe: US energy insulation, stunning Chinese oil demand destruction, and record corporate earnings. On AI, he distinguishes hype from reality (a dinner of multinational CEOs gave him five stories of “AI transformation,” none of which were actually AI), then describes the internal breakthrough that changed his mind: an agentic system that reads, reproduces, and out-of-sample-tests academic finance papers in 2 to 3 hours instead of 6 to 8 weeks. The consequences: no layoffs at Citadel, but competitive moats across the economy are being filled in at lightning speed, setting up a golden age of entrepreneurship. He covers the compute market (all available compute is utilized all the time; market makers now spend hundreds of millions a year), China’s lead in roughly 67 of 74 critical technologies, the Taiwan scenario in which losing TSMC chips cuts US GDP 8 percent in six months, an energy doctrine built on nuclear, natural gas, and building data centers (with their own generation) in America, his stress-test approach to tail risk (definable, tolerable, still in business), and hedge fund economics: the industry’s cost of capital is roughly risk-free plus 4 percent, which is why Citadel has returned $25 to 30 billion to its LPs.

    Thoughts

    The most useful thing in this conversation is Griffin’s two-sided read on AI, because he refuses to pick a lane. The paper-replication story is the cleanest documented example yet of AI eating not just white-collar work but masters-and-PhD-level work, from the man whose firm profits from that labor. Yet in the same breath he reports zero headcount reduction, because Citadel has more problems to attack than people to attack them. Both things are true at once, and he names the synthesis honestly: the individual firm gets more productive while every firm’s moat gets shallower. Most commentary picks either the doom frame or the productivity frame. Griffin holds both, and his conclusion (a golden age of entrepreneurship, startups running on a few AI systems instead of 30 to 40 employees) is the actionable part.

    His dinner-party anecdote deserves to be a standard reference. Five global CEOs effusing about AI transformation, and every single story was actually machine learning, optimization, or plain digitization. The C-suite cannot tell AI from technology at large, which means a meaningful slice of the “AI is transforming our business” narrative priced into the S&P is really a decade-old digital revolution wearing a new label. That is not a bearish observation, since the earnings are real either way, but it matters for anyone trying to figure out which companies actually have AI leverage and which have rebranded their IT budget.

    The Taiwan section is the starkest risk framing you will hear from someone who runs both a hedge fund and one of the world’s largest market makers. An 8 percent GDP contraction in six months is not a market correction, it is Boeing halting production, new cars stopping, and consumer electronics freezing simultaneously, because TSMC chips are in every high-end product made. What makes his version distinctive is the second-order point: in a Taiwan blockade, he does not expect unified Western sanctions. Europe’s membership on “team USA” is less clear than it was two years ago, and the Middle East will play Switzerland because China buys its oil. Investors should notice that his answer to “how do you hedge this?” is not clever derivatives, it is his stress-test doctrine: know the worst case, size exposures so the loss is definable and tolerable, and stay in business to fight back.

    Finally, the small structural details are where the conversation earns its Great Investors billing. Compute has become a commodity input like jet fuel, fully utilized at all times and allocated purely by willingness to pay, which quietly favors high-margin businesses and squeezes everyone else. Alternative data made the present transparent, so the remaining edge in stock picking is multi-year vision about which companies are building transformative products. And the hedge fund test he closes with is one any allocator can use tomorrow: is your GP in the asset management business or the performance business? Citadel returning $25 to 30 billion to LPs is what the performance answer looks like in practice.

    Key Takeaways

    • Griffin’s proudest leadership call was bringing everyone back to the office five days a week, extremely early and against the culture, because humans are social creatures who learn through apprenticeship and mentorship.
    • He cites a Fed paper on reduced employment among workers under 30: remote work turns out to be a more important factor in diminished opportunities for young Americans than AI.
    • At the start of the pandemic, a hospital-system CEO called Griffin because he could not get FDA approval for drug trials on ventilated COVID patients; Citadel’s team got experimental trials approved in about 72 hours.
    • The key insight behind Operation Warp Speed, which Griffin discussed at length with Jared Kushner, was an incentives fix: the US government paid pharma to manufacture vaccines before FDA results existed, collapsing time-to-market from months to days.
    • By his math, the country spent a few billion dollars on that risk, saved a few trillion dollars of GDP, and saved roughly half a million American lives.
    • The S&P is at all-time highs despite a Middle East war, a still-raging war in Europe, and a potential skirmish over Cuba, because the US is relatively shielded from the energy shock.
    • China’s oil demand elasticity stunned even Citadel’s commodities business, one of the largest in the world; that demand destruction plus episodic oil flows out of the region has kept crude near the low $100s instead of the nearly $200 most models predicted if the straits closed.
    • Citadel has been a huge user of machine learning since TensorFlow arrived roughly a decade ago; the current wave is an acceleration of a digital revolution already underway, not a clean break.
    • At a dinner two years ago, Griffin asked global multinational leaders to share how AI was transforming their businesses: he got four or five great productivity stories and not one actually involved AI. They were machine learning, optimization, and digitization.
    • In the C-suite the nuance between AI and technology at large gets lost, but bigger budgets and CEO enthusiasm are pushing through real projects with real bottom-line impact; US corporate earnings are at all-time highs and multiples have actually come down as a result.
    • The use case that sent Griffin home shocked and depressed: a Citadel team member built an agentic AI system that reads an academic finance paper, reproduces it, verifies the published results, and tests them out of sample in 2 to 3 hours on average.
    • That same replication work previously took a legion of young masters and PhD hires roughly six to eight weeks per paper; Citadel finds a few tradeable ideas a year this way, and a few ideas can be worth a lot of money.
    • The point he stresses: this is not just a white-collar job being automated, it is a master’s or PhD-level job, and AI is now cracking problems (like the 80-year-old math problem OpenAI solved) that seemed beyond its reach two or three years ago.
    • Despite the breakthrough there has been no reduction in headcount at Citadel: the firm has more problems to attack than people, so Griffin takes every productivity gain he can get.
    • The flip side is that competitive moats across corporate America are being filled in at breathtaking speed, which Griffin expects to produce a golden age of entrepreneurial activity.
    • His example: a startup that would traditionally need 30 or 40 employees now runs with just a few AI systems, letting entrepreneurs take on incumbents in ways impossible 5, 10, or 20 years ago.
    • Some workers face genuinely hard transitions (his example is English-to-German translators), and the country needs to figure out how higher education can retrain these people quickly.
    • Stock picking remains a timeless business with a similar skill set, but the market will increasingly reward multi-year vision about which companies are creating transformative products rather than skill at calling quarterly earnings beats.
    • Alternative data (Citadel has access to the credit card spending of millions of Americans) made the here-and-now transparent a decade ago; AI plus bright people now triage the present almost instantly, so relative value accrues to those who can see years ahead.
    • At Citadel Securities, transformer models continue a decade of ML-driven improvement in pricing and risk management, and the same is true at other leading market-making firms.
    • For all intents and purposes, all available compute in the world is utilized all the time; access is decided by who will pay the most, and the per-unit price has risen beyond what anyone reasonably projected two or three years ago.
    • Large market-making firms now spend hundreds of millions of dollars a year on compute; Griffin compares compute inflation to jet fuel and egg prices, a cost that high-margin businesses can bear and low-margin businesses cannot.
    • China leads in roughly 67 or 68 of the 74 or 75 most important technologies in the world, including solar, EV batteries, and multiple quantum fields, and has pulled ahead in published academic papers.
    • The drivers are structural: 1.4 billion people, an extraordinarily strong educational culture, and far more STEM graduates, producing exactly the human talent needed to win in a high-IP world.
    • China is no longer relegated to producing low-margin products designed in America, and Griffin calls that shift a threat to the American way of life; the answer is not tariffs but educating US youth to out-compete, out-innovate, and out-problem-solve.
    • If China takes Taiwan and the US loses access to Taiwanese semiconductors, the rough estimate is US GDP falls 8 percent in six months: a great depression in the blink of an eye, unlike any before.
    • The mechanism is concrete: Boeing stops making planes within six months, most new cars stop being manufactured, consumer electronics production freezes, because TSMC chips are in every high-end product made.
    • There are no winners in a Taiwan escalation: tanking the US economy would have draconian knock-on effects for China given America’s importance as an export market.
    • In a Taiwan blockade Griffin does not expect unified global sanctions against China: where you sit determines your exposure, Europe’s place on team USA is less clear than two years ago, and the oil-exporting Middle East will play Switzerland.
    • On energy, the US must re-embrace nuclear, with small modular reactors a big part of the story: nuclear has effectively no carbon footprint and one of the lowest mortality rates of any energy source ever used (hydro has killed magnitudes more people).
    • He punctures the clean-energy veneer: solar cells are often made in western China by burning coal, with roughly a seven-year energy payback, and carbon fiber wind turbine blades last 20 years then fill landfills because they do not break down. No truly clean solution exists until fusion or broader nuclear.
    • Until then, natural gas is America’s huge asset: decades of cheap supply, and one of the few things that has actually brought down US carbon emissions.
    • Data centers are going to get built somewhere, and Griffin argues it would be inane for America to end up dependent on foreign countries for them; his fix for NIMBY politics is to require data center builders to construct corresponding power generation, tied to the grid for reliability, rather than pushing costs onto consumers.
    • His hedging doctrine for complicated risks: run stress tests, know exactly how much you lose and where in the worst case, and keep exposures sized so the loss is definable, tolerable, and leaves you still in business and able to fight back. You will never hedge every tail event.
    • Hedge fund industry economics: the long-run cost of capital is roughly the risk-free rate plus 4 percent; underperform and capital flows out, outperform and it flows in, and inflows dilute alpha because alpha capacity is finite.
    • Citadel has returned $25 to 30 billion to its limited partners to keep return on equity high: Griffin’s job is to grow annual alpha capacity, and any capital beyond what the portfolio needs goes back to LPs.
    • The alignment test for allocators: the biggest investor in Citadel’s funds is Griffin and his partners, and every LP should ask whether their GP is in the asset management business or the performance business.

    Detailed Summary

    Return to Office and the Cost of Remote Work

    Asked what he is most proud of beyond the numbers, Griffin starts with Citadel’s early, countercultural demand that everyone return to the office five days a week. He frames it as a human capital decision, not a control decision: people learn through apprenticeship, mentors are critical to development, and the underdevelopment of talent from remote work has damaged the broader economy. He points to recent Fed research on falling employment among under-30s: remote work turns out to matter more than AI in diminishing opportunities for young Americans. Citadel not only brought its team back but publicly extolled the virtues of doing so, and Griffin believes history will be on his side.

    72 Hours to FDA Approval and the Warp Speed Incentive Design

    His second point of pride is Citadel’s pandemic chapter. As the first US COVID cases appeared, a former partner running a major New York hospital system called: he could not get FDA approval for experimental drug trials on ventilated patients facing imminent death, and believed only Griffin could make it happen. Citadel’s team, with decades of government experience, got approvals moving in about 72 hours. The second act was Operation Warp Speed, whose core idea Griffin discussed at length with Jared Kushner: pay pharmaceutical companies to manufacture vaccines before FDA results, so a positive result means days to market instead of the standard sequence losing three to six months. No company would spend billions producing vaccines that might be flushed down the sewer, so the US government took the manufacturing risk on unproven efficacy. A few billion dollars spent, a few trillion in GDP saved, and roughly half a million American lives.

    All-Time Highs in a World at War

    Griffin’s market picture is unsentimental: there is a war in the Middle East, a still-raging war in Europe, potential trouble in Cuba, and the peace both men grew up with is off the table. Yet the S&P sits at record highs. His explanation: America is relatively shielded from the war-driven energy crisis. China has curtailed oil demand with an elasticity that stunned even Citadel’s commodity desk, and episodic oil and LNG flows keep leaving the region, holding crude around the low $100s when most estimates had a strait closure producing nearly $200 a barrel. Meanwhile corporate earnings are at all-time highs, enough that multiples have actually compressed over the last 12 months.

    The AI Story CEOs Tell Versus the One That Is True

    Citadel has used machine learning heavily since TensorFlow arrived a decade ago, powering everything from radiology reads to self-driving cars across the economy, so Griffin sees today’s AI wave as an acceleration of an ongoing digital revolution. His favorite corrective: at a dinner with global multinational leaders two years ago, everyone was effusive about AI transforming their businesses, so he asked them to go around the table with specifics. Four or five genuinely impressive productivity stories emerged, and not one involved AI: they were machine learning, optimization, digitization, technology at large. The C-suite blurs the distinction, but the enthusiasm has unlocked bigger technology budgets and real bottom-line projects, which is part of why earnings are at records.

    The Agentic System That Shocked Him

    Then comes the story behind the famous “shocked and depressed” Friday. Citadel employs legions of young masters and PhD graduates to replicate academic finance papers: read the hypothesis, judge the work, reproduce results, and test whether the effect persists out of sample (does buyback activity predict outperformance, for example). Each paper takes six to eight weeks, and the process surfaces a few valuable ideas a year. A colleague built an agentic AI system that does the entire pipeline (read, reproduce, verify, out-of-sample test) in two to three hours on average. Griffin’s emphasis: this is not routine white-collar work, it is master’s and PhD-level work, and paired with OpenAI solving a math problem open for 80 years, it shows AI cracking problems considered out of reach two or three years ago. Notably, Citadel cut zero headcount on the back of the breakthrough; the firm has more problems worth attacking than people to attack them, so every productivity gain gets absorbed.

    Filled-In Moats and a Golden Age of Entrepreneurs

    The macro consequence Griffin draws is double-edged. Hold two thoughts at once: AI is reaching very high-level work in the job market, with some workers (translators, for instance) facing hard transitions that demand fast retraining through higher education. And simultaneously, the competitive moats of corporate America are being filled in at breathtaking rates. That means entrepreneurs can launch businesses at speeds impossible 5, 10, or 20 years ago: he mentions a startup running on a few AI systems where 30 or 40 employees would once have been required. He expects a wave of these stories over the next couple of years as founders use the technology to take on incumbents.

    The Future of the Stock Picker

    Griffin has called stock picking a timeless business, and he still sees a similar skill set for the portfolio manager of the future, with one shift in emphasis. Predicting quarterly earnings beats has gotten far harder over a decade as alternative data (credit card panels covering millions of Americans, telegraphing Starbucks and McDonald’s revenues) made the present transparent. Now bright people plus good AI triage the here-and-now almost instantly. The scarce, rewarded skill becomes vision: identifying which companies are building genuinely transformative products years before the market fully prices it.

    Compute Is the New Jet Fuel

    At Citadel Securities, which holds double-digit market share across equities, futures, and treasuries, transformer models extend a decade of machine learning gains in pricing and risk. The compute market backdrop is what Griffin calls breathtaking: essentially all available compute on Earth is utilized all the time, so access reduces to who will pay the most. Per-unit compute prices exceed what anyone reasonably projected two or three years ago, and large market makers now spend hundreds of millions of dollars annually. He treats it as straightforward input inflation, like jet fuel or eggs: high-margin businesses can bear it, low-margin ones cannot.

    China’s Technology Lead and the Taiwan Equilibrium

    Griffin states the cold reality: China is one of the most innovative, fastest-growing economies in the world, leading in roughly 67 or 68 of the 74 or 75 most important technologies (solar, EV batteries, several quantum fields) and now ahead in published academic papers. The foundation is 1.4 billion people, a culture with an extraordinary emphasis on education, and far more STEM graduates. China is no longer relegated to manufacturing low-margin products designed in America, and Griffin calls that a threat to the American way of life. His prescription is pointed: not tariffs, but educating American youth to out-compete, out-innovate, and out-problem-solve. Taiwan is the painful pressure point with no winner. If China takes Taiwan and the US loses TSMC chips, GDP falls an estimated 8 percent in six months: Boeing stops making planes, most new car production halts, consumer electronics freeze, a great depression in the blink of an eye. China would suffer draconian knock-on effects too. As an investor he thinks about position: sanctions in a Taiwan blockade would not be unified, Europe’s place on team USA is a genuine question mark now, and the oil-exporting Middle East would play Switzerland since China is its biggest customer.

    Energy Realism: Nuclear, Gas, and American Data Centers

    On powering AI, Griffin wants America to lead again in nuclear, with small modular reactors central: no meaningful carbon footprint and one of the lowest mortality rates of any energy source ever deployed (hydro has killed magnitudes more people). He challenges the superficial cleanliness of renewables: solar cells are often made in western China with coal power, requiring about seven years of energy capture to break even against the coal burned making them, and 20-year-old carbon fiber wind turbine blades do not break down and are already filling landfills. Until fusion or expanded nuclear, America’s real asset is natural gas: decades of cheap supply that has actually driven US emissions down. His data center position is blunt: they will get built somewhere, and depending on foreign countries for them would be inane, so build them in America. His answer to NIMBY politics: require data center developers to build corresponding power generation, tied to the grid for reliability, so the cost never lands on the American consumer.

    Tail Risk, Tolerable Losses, and Hedge Fund Alignment

    On hedging complicated risks, Griffin’s method is stress testing: if this happens, how much do we lose and where, and is that loss tolerable? You can never manage a portfolio for every possible tail event, but you can keep exposures sized so the worst case is definable and tolerable, leaving you still in business and positioned to fight back. On industry returns, he pegs the hedge fund cost of capital at roughly the risk-free rate plus 4 percent as the long-run equilibrium: underperformance drains capital, outperformance attracts it, and since recent outperformance keeps pulling money in, growing assets dilute alpha. That is why Citadel has returned $25 to 30 billion to LPs: alpha capacity is finite, Griffin’s job is to grow it, and excess capital goes back to investors to keep return on equity high. The closing advice is an alignment test: Citadel’s biggest investor is Griffin and his partners, and every allocator should ask whether their GP is in the asset management business or the performance business.

    Notable Quotes

    “Turns out that remote working is a more important factor to diminished employment opportunities for young Americans than AI.”

    Ken Griffin, citing Fed research on under-30 employment

    “We spent a few billion dollars as a country. We saved a few trillion dollars in GDP. We saved roughly half a million American lives.”

    Ken Griffin, on Operation Warp Speed’s incentive design

    “I got four or five incredible stories of how companies were achieving meaningful productivity gains. Not one involved AI.”

    Ken Griffin, on his dinner with global multinational CEOs

    “My colleague built an agentic AI system that would read a paper, reproduce it, verify the results that were published in the paper, produce the results out of sample, and do all this work in about on average 2 to three hours.”

    Ken Griffin, on the breakthrough that replaced six to eight weeks of PhD-level work

    “We’re likely to see a golden age of entrepreneur activity. Like entrepreneurs will be able to launch new businesses at breathtaking speeds and will be able to take on incumbents in ways that you just couldn’t do 5, 10, 15, 20 years ago.”

    Ken Griffin, on AI filling in competitive moats

    “All the available compute today is more or less utilized all the time. So the question is who’s willing to pay the most for it?”

    Ken Griffin, on the global compute market

    “The US loses access to Taiwanese semiconductor chips, our GDP falls by 8% in 6 months. Simply put, we go into a great depression in the blink of an eye unlike any we’ve seen before.”

    Ken Griffin, on the Taiwan scenario

    “We better damn well build the data centers in America because they’re going to get built somewhere in the world.”

    Ken Griffin, on energy policy and AI infrastructure

    “Definable, tolerable, still in business, still in a position to fight back from that point.”

    Ken Griffin, summarizing his approach to hedging tail risk

    “Are they in the asset management business or are they in the performance business?”

    Ken Griffin, on the question every hedge fund investor should ask their GP

    Watch the full conversation here: Ken Griffin on Goldman Sachs Exchanges: Great Investors.

    Related Reading

  • SubQ 1.1 Small Explained: How Subquadratic Sparse Attention Hits 98% Retrieval at 12 Million Tokens With 64.5x Less Compute Than Dense Attention

    Subquadratic, a frontier AI research and infrastructure company, has released the model card and technical report for SubQ 1.1 Small, a long-context language model built on a new attention mechanism the company calls Subquadratic Sparse Attention (SSA). The headline claim is unusual in two directions at once: the model retains 98% single-fact retrieval accuracy at 12 million tokens, roughly twelve times the length it was primarily trained on, while cutting attention compute by 64.5x against dense attention at a 1 million token context. The deeper argument in the report is not really about a single model at all. It is about what happens to the entire retrieval-and-orchestration stack once reasoning over a complete artifact stops being prohibitively expensive.

    TLDR

    SubQ 1.1 Small is a small long-context model that replaces the dense attention of an existing open-weight frontier model with Subquadratic Sparse Attention, a learned, content-dependent sparse attention mechanism that scales linearly in compute and memory rather than quadratically. On retrieval it posts 99.12% on NVIDIA’s 13-task RULER suite at 128K tokens and 100% needle-in-a-haystack accuracy at 1M and 2M tokens, holding at 98% out to 6M and 12M tokens while attending to only 0.13% of token pairs. It keeps competitive general ability, scoring 85.4% on GPQA Diamond and 89.7% pass@4 on LiveCodeBench v6, and reaches 13% on the long-horizon AutomationBench Finance agentic benchmark, close to Opus 4.8 and GPT-5.5 and well ahead of mid and small tiers. The efficiency story is a scaling win rather than a constant-factor one: 64.5x fewer attention FLOPs than dense attention at 1M tokens and 56x faster than FlashAttention-2 on a single attention layer. The report frames cheap long-context compute as a research accelerator that let the team run more than one hundred million-token experiments and find a training recipe (long-context continued pretraining is the strongest lever) rather than guess at one, positions SSA against FlashAttention, DeepSeek’s Lightning Indexer line, state space models like Mamba, and hybrids, invokes Sutton’s Bitter Lesson to argue that RAG, chunking, and agentic scaffolding are partly workarounds for context scarcity, and was independently verified by Appen. Deployment is starting with design partners now, with a 2M to 12M token lineup planned by year end.

    Thoughts

    The most interesting move in this report is the framing, not the benchmark. Subquadratic plants its flag on Richard Sutton’s Bitter Lesson and argues that much of the modern AI stack, the retrieval pipelines, the chunkers, the re-rankers, the agentic orchestration, is scaffolding built around a single computational constraint: dense attention costs grow with the square of context length. If that constraint relaxes, a lot of hand-engineered machinery that exists to feed a model the right fragments at the right moment starts to look like the task-specific pipelines that learned representations eventually displaced. That is a genuinely provocative thesis, and it is the right lens for reading the rest of the document. The company is not selling a longer context window as a feature. It is betting that whole-artifact reasoning is a different shape of capability than retrieval over fragments, and that fragmentation destroys the cross-references a contract or a codebase actually depends on before the model ever sees them.

    The part of the paper most teams will undervalue is the claim that the real payoff of efficient attention is not cheaper inference but cheaper experimentation. A dense long-context training campaign is expensive enough that most groups get a handful of attempts and are forced to guess at the recipe. Subquadratic says SSA let them run more than a hundred experiments across six model generations with per-step iteration under a minute at million-token context, which is how they discovered that long-context continued pretraining, not clever post-training, was the dominant lever. If that holds, algorithmic efficiency becomes a first-class scaling variable alongside parameters and data, because capability becomes responsive to iteration velocity rather than raw compute alone. It reframes efficiency from a deployment line item into a research multiplier, and that is a more durable advantage than any single benchmark number.

    The generalization result deserves scrutiny precisely because it is so clean. A model trained overwhelmingly at 1M tokens, with a sliver at 2M and nothing beyond, holds 98% retrieval at 12M. The proposed explanation is that SSA routes attention by content relevance rather than fixed positional pattern, so there may simply be no obvious length boundary once the routing behavior is learned. That is plausible and the report is careful to say the 12M result emerged rather than being designed for. But single-needle NIAH is a deliberately clean probe with one target and a binary answer. The far harder RULER suite is only reported at 128K, the longest standardized length in the original benchmark, so the multi-hop, aggregation, and distractor-heavy capability that whole-artifact reasoning actually requires has public numbers at 128K, not at 12M. The honest read is that precise retrieval generalizes spectacularly and composite reasoning at extreme length is still an open question the report does not over-claim on.

    What lends the report credibility is how much counter-evidence it volunteers. It walks through MiniMax abandoning its hybrid M1 architecture and returning to full attention for M2 after efficient variants showed multi-hop reasoning deficits at scale. It admits that earlier SubQ checkpoints improved retrieval while regressing on knowledge benchmarks, forcing dedicated capability-balancing work. It describes catching a case where the MRCR benchmark moved up while the model felt worse in real workflow spot-checks, and switching its development signal to RULER as a result. That last point is a quietly important methodological argument: benchmark score and deployment behavior diverged enough to change checkpoint selection, which is a warning every team shipping long-context models should internalize. A vendor confident enough to show where its own metrics misled it is more trustworthy than one that only shows the wins.

    A few caveats keep the enthusiasm grounded. AutomationBench Finance at 13% is genuinely strong relative to peers, but it is a low absolute score across the board, including for GPT-5.5 at 18% and Opus 4.8 at 16%, so this is early evidence of agentic transfer rather than proof of a finished agent. The efficiency comparisons isolate a single attention layer rather than full end-to-end model throughput, which is the right way to expose the scaling shape but not the same as a wall-clock serving benchmark. The model is built from an unnamed donor open-weight frontier model, so some of its general-knowledge and coding strength is inherited rather than created here. And the most aggressive claims about the future, a 2M to 12M lineup and much higher sparsity, are roadmap, not released artifacts. None of that undercuts the core result. It just means the right posture is to treat SubQ 1.1 Small as a strong proof of concept for an architecture that, if it scales as advertised, could quietly remove a layer of the AI stack that everyone currently takes for granted.

    Key Takeaways

    • SubQ 1.1 Small is a long-context language model from Subquadratic AI, built on a new attention mechanism called Subquadratic Sparse Attention (SSA), released June 16, 2026 alongside a model card and technical report.
    • SSA is a learned, content-dependent sparse attention mechanism that scales linearly in both compute and memory with sequence length, rather than quadratically like dense attention.
    • The central result is context-length generalization: the model was trained primarily at 1M tokens, with some training at 2M and none beyond, yet retrieval held far past the training window.
    • Needle-in-a-haystack accuracy is 100% at 1M and 2M tokens and 98% at both 6M and 12M tokens, roughly twelve times the primary training length.
    • At 12M tokens the model attends to only 0.13% of token pairs, close to a 1,000x reduction in attention relationships, while still retrieving accurately.
    • On NVIDIA’s 13-task RULER benchmark at 128K tokens, SubQ 1.1 Small scores 99.12%, with the remaining errors concentrated in aggregation-style tasks rather than retrieval.
    • RULER tests beyond single-fact lookup: single-key and multi-key retrieval, common-word and frequent-word extraction, and multi-hop variable tracing across positions.
    • At 1M tokens, SSA requires 64.5x fewer attention FLOPs than dense attention (3.9 PFLOP versus 252 PFLOP per attention layer).
    • On a single attention layer, SSA runs 56x faster than FlashAttention-2 at 1M tokens (966 ms versus 54,164 ms on an H100), reaching parity near 16K tokens and pulling away as context grows.
    • The efficiency gain is a scaling-law win, not a constant-factor speedup: the advantage over dense attention grows as context length increases.
    • On general knowledge, SubQ 1.1 Small scores 85.4% on GPQA Diamond (pass@1), below GPT-5.5 (93.2) and Opus 4.8 (92), near Sonnet 4.6 and GPT-5.4-mini (87.5), and above GPT-5.4-nano (81.7) and Haiku 4.5 (67.2).
    • On coding, it reaches 89.7% pass@4 on LiveCodeBench v6, close to the absolute frontier (GPT-5.5 92, Opus 4.8 92.2) and ahead of the smaller tiers.
    • On AutomationBench Finance, a long-horizon agentic benchmark, it scores 13%, close to Opus 4.8 (16%) and GPT-5.5 (18%) and ahead of Sonnet 4.6 (8%), Haiku 4.5 (3%), and GPT-5.4-mini (0%). Absolute scores are low across all models.
    • The model was not trained from scratch. The team converted an existing open-weight frontier model by replacing dense attention with SSA, then built long-context ability through staged context extension and continued pretraining.
    • Context was extended in stages (262K, 512K, 1M, 2M) using YaRN positional scaling, with long-context continued pretraining performed between extension stages on naturally long data: books, long documents, and repository-scale code.
    • Roughly one trillion tokens of continued pretraining were performed, most of it at the 1M-token stage.
    • Long-context continued pretraining was the most consistent predictor of long-context retrieval gains across the experiments, more so than post-training tweaks.
    • The team ran more than one hundred long-context experiments across six major model generations, which the report argues is only possible because SSA made million-token iteration cheap (under a minute per step).
    • Capability balance was a recurring challenge: gains in long-context retrieval often regressed short-context knowledge and reasoning unless training was explicitly managed for both.
    • Benchmark scores and real deployment behavior diverged. The MRCR benchmark moved up while qualitative workflow spot-checks got worse, so the team switched its primary development signal to RULER.
    • The report frames RAG, chunking, summarization, and agentic orchestration as scaffolding built around context scarcity, drawing an analogy to Sutton’s Bitter Lesson, where hand-engineered mechanisms get displaced by larger-scale learning.
    • SSA is positioned against FlashAttention (a memory optimization that does not change quadratic compute), fixed-pattern sparse attention, DeepSeek’s learned sparse line, state space models, and hybrid architectures.
    • DeepSeek’s Lightning Indexer (used in DSA and CSA) is the closest published comparison. Its quadratic scoring overtakes the sparse attention it feeds around 52,000 tokens, reaching roughly 16x the attention cost at 1M and 190x at 12M.
    • State space models like Mamba achieve linear cost through a compressed fixed-size state, but that compression is lossy and weakens exact retrieval, which is why production efficient models are usually hybrids with some dense attention layers retained.
    • MiniMax is cited as a cautionary case: it moved from a hybrid M1 to a full-attention M2 after hybrids showed multi-hop reasoning deficits at scale and less mature supporting infrastructure.
    • The benchmark results were independently verified by Appen, a third-party evaluation firm.
    • The named use cases are financial analysis and due diligence, legal and contract work, and software engineering (architecture-level reasoning, cross-file refactoring, dependency tracing, planning, review, and long-horizon memory).
    • Sparsity settings were deliberately conservative, tuned for maximum context length rather than maximum sparsity. Limited experiments at 4x the sparsity reported positive early results.
    • The training infrastructure used a memory-scaling ladder: single node, intra-node sequence parallelism, CPU offload, multi-node sequence parallelism, nested offloading, and Ring Attention for the longest contexts.
    • Beyond about 8M tokens, BF16 numerical underflow and stability became practical constraints on evaluation.
    • The technical report is authored by Saul Ramirez, Alex Whedon, Ashmal Vayani, and Phong Vo of Subquadratic AI.
    • Deployment is starting with a first cohort of design partners, with broader rollout through the quarter and a general model lineup ranging from 2M to 12M tokens by the end of the year.
    • The company’s framing line is “Efficiency is intelligence,” and its broader thesis is that the point is not bigger context windows for their own sake but reasoning directly over complete artifacts with less surrounding scaffolding.

    Detailed Summary

    The problem: whole-artifact reasoning and context scarcity

    The report opens by naming a class of tasks it calls whole-artifact reasoning: problems whose structure requires reasoning across a complete artifact rather than over isolated fragments. A legal agreement may define a term on page 2, qualify it on page 12, carve out an exception on page 46, and amend it in a schedule. A function may be defined in one file, called from forty others, and constrained by invariants encoded in the architecture rather than in comments. A financial review may require connecting filings, earnings reports, contracts, and internal records. In each case the difficulty is not locating a passage, it is reasoning over relationships distributed throughout a large artifact. Most production systems do not do this directly. They rely on retrieval pipelines, chunking, summaries, and agentic workflows that partition information and reconstruct fragments at inference time, because dense attention scales quadratically with context length and makes direct reasoning over large artifacts expensive. Subquadratic argues that much of the modern AI stack is therefore designed to manage context scarcity rather than reason over complete artifacts, and it connects this to Sutton’s Bitter Lesson: sophisticated hand-engineered mechanisms historically get displaced once larger-scale learning becomes practical.

    What SSA is and the three requirements it targets

    Subquadratic Sparse Attention is a content-dependent sparse attention mechanism designed to satisfy three requirements at once, a combination the report argues prior approaches never achieved in a practical long-context system. First, dense-attention-level retrieval and reasoning quality, which requires routing that is content-dependent (determined by the tokens themselves) rather than driven by a fixed positional pattern. Second, subquadratic scaling, where selection, retrieval, and attention are each linear in sequence length so the mechanism is linear end to end, not only within the attention read. Third, full-context training with standard autoregressive generation, so the model can optimize over the entire context during training while keeping efficient token-by-token decoding at inference. The internal mechanism by which SSA achieves this is held back as outside the scope of the report, which focuses instead on the requirements and the experimental program that followed.

    Where SSA sits among prior approaches

    The background section is effectively a taxonomy of long-context modeling. FlashAttention is treated not as a competitor but as the standard dense-attention baseline: it solved the memory problem by never materializing the full attention matrix, but it left the quadratic compute cost untouched, so doubling context still quadruples attention computation. Fixed-pattern sparse attention (sliding-window, strided, as in Longformer, BigBird, and the sliding window in Gemma) scales well but sacrifices content-dependent routing and tends to fail on retrieval benchmarks like RULER. Compression methods like Multi-head Latent Attention reduce KV-cache memory at inference but do not change the quadratic prefill cost. Learned sparse attention, exemplified by DeepSeek’s Native Sparse Attention and its Lightning Indexer, learns where to route but pays a quadratic cost in the indexer itself. State space models and linear attention (Mamba, Mamba-2 and Mamba-3, RetNet, RWKV, gated delta networks) achieve linear cost through a compressed fixed-size state, but that compression is lossy and weak on exact retrieval. Hybrids (Jamba, Kimi Linear, Qwen3 Next, Nemotron) keep a few dense layers to preserve retrieval, which means the quadratic component still dominates at long context. System-level workarounds (RAG, agentic frameworks, recursive language models) move retrieval outside the model entirely. The report’s stated open problem is to combine subquadratic scaling end to end with content-dependent retrieval, arbitrary-position access, and practical ultra-long-context training in one system, which it claims no widely deployed architecture provides and which SSA targets.

    Training: conversion, staged context extension, and continued pretraining

    Rather than training from scratch, the team converted an existing open-weight frontier model that supported a 262K-token context by replacing its dense attention with SSA. They then extended the context window in stages (262K to 512K to 1M to 2M) using YaRN to rescale positional representations, performing long-context continued pretraining between extension stages rather than jumping straight to the final length. The training mixture emphasized naturally long data such as books, long documents, and repository-scale code, packed to the target length with document separators and without masking cross-document attention boundaries. Most continued-pretraining tokens were trained at the 1M-token stage, with roughly one trillion tokens total. Post-training played a separate role: shaping how the long-context capability was expressed while preserving reasoning, coding, and instruction following. The team explored sample-level loss aggregation to keep a few extremely long examples from dominating gradient updates, and staged the post-training corpus across synthetic retrieval tasks, long-context reasoning, coding, educational material, and general instruction following, alternating capability-building phases with recovery phases.

    Results: retrieval, knowledge, coding, and agentic tasks

    On retrieval, SubQ 1.1 Small scores 99.12% on the 13-task RULER average at 128K, with errors concentrated in aggregation-style tasks like common-word and frequent-word extraction. On needle-in-a-haystack, evaluated on 50 held-out UUID samples per length, it scores 100% at 1M and 2M (within the training window) and 98% at 6M and 12M (held out), attending to only 0.13% of token pairs at 12M. On knowledge, GPQA Diamond pass@1 is 85.4%, landing between the small and mid frontier tiers and confirming that long-context optimization need not sacrifice reasoning, a result the report credits to its capability-balancing stages after earlier checkpoints showed retrieval gains coming at the cost of knowledge. On coding, LiveCodeBench v6 pass@4 is 89.7%, and the report notes coding data played a dual role, also improving non-code long-context retrieval because code is dense with the cross-position dependencies that train general routing. On long-horizon agentic work, AutomationBench Finance is 13%, where agents must discover the right endpoints among roughly 500 across 47 applications, make interdependent API calls, follow layered business rules, and ignore seeded distractors, graded on binary end-state correctness with no partial credit.

    Efficiency and the DeepSeek comparison

    Efficiency is measured on one attention layer against a dense baseline on the same backbone. Per-forward-pass attention FLOPs scale from a 2.1x reduction at 32K to 8x at 128K, 31.5x at 512K, and 64.5x at 1M tokens (3.9 PFLOP for SSA versus 252 PFLOP for dense). Measured against FlashAttention-2 in isolation, SSA reaches parity near 16K tokens and pulls away to 56x at 1M, where it runs in 966 ms versus 54,164 ms on an H100. The report devotes a discussion section to DeepSeek’s sparse attention line as the closest published comparison. DeepSeek’s Lightning Indexer is a learned selector, but it is a full-attention distilled transformer, so it scales quadratically: in a V3.2-style configuration the indexer is cheaper than the sparse attention it feeds only below about 52,000 tokens, then overtakes it, reaching roughly 16x the attention cost at 1M tokens and 190x at 12M. SSA targets that same selection role with a selector the report says is dramatically cheaper and linear throughout, and notes SSA could conceptually replace the selector over either uncompressed or compressed representations.

    Efficiency as a research accelerator and the evaluation lessons

    A recurring theme is that the most valuable effect of cheap long-context compute was on the research loop, not just inference. Where a dense campaign would allow a handful of attempts, SSA enabled more than a hundred experiments across six model generations with per-step iteration under a minute at million-token context. That throughput is what surfaced the finding that long-context continued pretraining is the strongest lever, and it leads the authors to argue that algorithmic efficiency should be treated as a first-class scaling variable alongside model and dataset size. The report is unusually candid about evaluation pitfalls. It describes how the MRCR benchmark diverged from deployment behavior, with MRCR-optimized checkpoints often feeling worse on repository-scale code reasoning, multi-document synthesis, and contract analysis, which pushed the team to rely on RULER and a fixed set of qualitative workflow spot-checks as development signals. It also cites MiniMax returning from a hybrid M1 to a full-attention M2 as evidence that reducing asymptotic cost is not sufficient on its own if retrieval quality, reasoning at scale, and system maturity are not preserved at the same time.

    Implications, availability, and what comes next

    The report’s deployment argument is that the most important enterprise implication of long-context models is not larger windows but the ability to reason directly over complete or more-complete artifacts, moving retrieval, re-ranking, and orchestration logic into the model where the task is naturally whole-artifact rather than naturally decomposable. It is careful not to declare retrieval obsolete: for corpora larger than any plausible context window, fast-changing knowledge, and genuinely multi-stage workflows, RAG and orchestration remain the right tools. The narrower claim is that the class of scaffolding that exists only to compensate for context limits gets smaller as efficient long-context models extend the reachable window. The benchmark results were independently verified by Appen. Subquadratic is deploying SubQ 1.1 Small with a first cohort of design partners now, with broader rollout through the quarter and a general lineup spanning 2M to 12M tokens planned by the end of the year, and it flags much higher sparsity as future work.

    Notable Quotes

    “Much of the modern AI stack is therefore designed to manage context scarcity rather than reason over complete artifacts directly.”

    SubQ-1.1-Small Technical Report, framing retrieval and orchestration as workarounds for an architectural limit

    “The hybrid has moved the line, but not changed its shape.”

    SubQ-1.1-Small Technical Report, on why hybrid models keep their quadratic component at long context

    “A routing mechanism intended to make long context affordable becomes the dominant long-context cost, reintroducing quadratic scaling after providing scalar compute savings.”

    SubQ-1.1-Small Technical Report, on DeepSeek’s Lightning Indexer overtaking the attention it feeds

    “If the cost of long-context experiments is too high, teams are forced to guess at the recipe. If the cost falls far enough, they can search for it.”

    SubQ-1.1-Small Technical Report, on efficient attention as a research accelerator

    “Fragmentation systematically destroys those relationships before the model ever sees them.”

    SubQ-1.1-Small Technical Report, on why chunking hurts whole-artifact reasoning

    “Holding the whole artifact in context changes the shape of the task rather than only the speed of it.”

    SubQ-1.1-Small Technical Report, on the difference between bigger windows and direct reasoning

    “The value of SSA is therefore not only that it makes long-context inference cheaper. It makes long-context experimentation cheaper.”

    SubQ-1.1-Small Technical Report, conclusion

    Read the full SubQ 1.1 Small technical report and model card here.

    Related Reading

    • Subquadratic (subq.ai) the company behind SubQ 1.1 Small and the Subquadratic Sparse Attention architecture, where you can join the waitlist.
    • The Bitter Lesson by Richard Sutton the short essay whose argument the report leans on, that hand-engineered mechanisms lose to general methods that scale with computation.
    • Attention Is All You Need the original Transformer paper that introduced the dense attention whose quadratic cost SSA is built to remove.
    • RULER (arXiv) NVIDIA’s long-context benchmark that the report uses as its primary retrieval signal, and that fixed-pattern sparse methods historically struggle with.
    • Retrieval-augmented generation (Wikipedia) background on the RAG approach that the report frames as scaffolding around context scarcity rather than a permanent fixture.

  • Ray Kurzweil Predicts AI Will Change Humanity Completely by 2030: AGI by 2029, Longevity Escape Velocity by 2032, Nanobots in the Brain, and Why Quantum Computing Won’t Matter

    Ray Kurzweil has spent more than 60 years studying artificial intelligence and made 147 documented technology predictions since 1990 with a reported 86 percent accuracy rate. In this conversation with Tony Robbins, the 78-year-old futurist revisits his most famous forecasts and sharpens them: AGI by 2029 now looks conservative, longevity escape velocity arrives around 2032, nanotechnology connects our brains to the cloud by the mid 2030s, and quantum computing, in his view, never matters at all.

    TLDW

    Kurzweil explains the exponential thinking that powered his prediction record, from a paper he wrote at 16 to a computing-price-performance chart that runs in a straight line from 1939 relays to today’s Nvidia chips, now compounding roughly tenfold per year when hardware and software gains multiply together. He defends his 1999 prediction of AGI by 2029 (defined as AI doing the best work in every field) and says it is now the conservative end of expert opinion. He walks through AI-driven medicine: the COVID vaccine designed in two days, simulated human trials replacing 10-month clinical trials within about five years, and longevity escape velocity around 2032, after which the diligent stop losing ground to aging. He predicts AI will move inside us via nanotechnology by the mid-to-late 2030s, erasing the line between biological and computational thinking. He dismisses quantum computing as error-ridden and unnecessary for AGI. On jobs, he expects real disruption cushioned by exploding wealth and an eventual universal basic income, and advises young people to self-educate and get creative with AI tools their schools still treat as the enemy. The conversation closes with his AI twin project, the dadbot built from his father’s archives, consciousness and the soul, computronium, and why humanity must eventually expand intelligence beyond Earth.

    Thoughts

    The most interesting thing in this interview is not any single date, it is watching Kurzweil’s dates get lapped by reality. In 1999 a Stanford conference of several hundred AI experts agreed AGI would happen but pegged it at 100 years out; Kurzweil said 30 and got laughed at. Now he is the cautious one in the room, noting that “some people say it’s going to happen this year.” When the most aggressive forecaster of his generation becomes the conservative baseline, that says more about the slope of the curve than any chart could. His underlying method has not changed: ignore the specific technology, trust the compounding. The same exponential that ran on relays in 1939 runs on GPUs today.

    The quantum computing take is the genuine news here. Kurzweil is routinely caricatured as a man who believes every technology arrives on schedule, yet he flatly says quantum computing is filled with errors, has never delivered on its decade of promises, and “I don’t think it’s going to work.” That is a sharper dismissal than most working physicists would offer on the record. It also matters strategically: his entire AGI and superintelligence roadmap assumes zero quantum contribution. If he is right, the trillion-dollar quantum race is a sideshow. If he is wrong, his other predictions arrive even sooner. Either way, the willingness to call one exponential fake while betting his legacy on another is what separates a forecaster from a cheerleader.

    The longevity escape velocity math deserves more scrutiny than it gets in the conversation. Kurzweil claims the diligent currently get back about five months of life expectancy per calendar year, up from four months a year ago, and that the crossover to a full year arrives around 2032. The actuarial evidence for that specific number is thin, but the behavioral implication is clean and useful regardless: the payoff of staying healthy right now is not linear. Every year you survive in good shape buys you a ticket to a medical regime that did not exist the year before, the way his own external pancreas did not exist a generation ago. His “wait a few months and a cure appears” anecdote is the optimist’s version of compounding applied to your own body.

    Robbins’ long story about Bartok, his 14-year-old agent that allegedly minted NFTs, sold them to other agents, and bought a Sony robot dog with the proceeds, should be taken with a generous grain of salt. It is secondhand, unverifiable, and suspiciously perfect as a parable. But notice what Kurzweil does with it: he does not fact-check the anecdote, he uses it to make the consciousness argument he has made for decades, that when machines act conscious in every observable way, people will simply grant them consciousness, the same way we grant it to each other. The dadbot and his Gemini-based AI twin (trained partly on this very interview) are the practical edge of the same claim. And his sharpest line in the whole exchange may be the education critique: institutions still treat AI as cheating while the future requires treating it as part of your own brain. For anyone thinking about where purpose comes from when work gets automated, his answer (UBI for the floor, creativity for the meaning) lands close to the questions this site exists to ask.

    Key Takeaways

    • Kurzweil made 147 documented predictions since 1990 with a reported 86 percent accuracy, including the internet’s explosion, smartphones, self-driving cars, and AI-powered search, most made before ordinary people owned computers.
    • He wrote a paper identifying exponential technological growth at age 16, more than 60 years ago, and that single idea has powered his entire forecasting career.
    • Most people intellectually accept exponential growth but still plan linearly; 300 years ago humans did not even have a linear view of the future because change was imperceptible within a lifetime.
    • His computing chart shows a straight exponential line from relay-based machines in 1939 to today’s Nvidia chips, compounding roughly 50 percent per year in hardware alone.
    • Hardware gains since 1939 total a 75 quadrillionfold increase; multiply by an estimated millionfold software improvement and total computational gain is beyond intuition, which is why LLMs were impossible even four years ago.
    • With hardware times software combined, Kurzweil says we are currently gaining about 10x per year.
    • The emperor’s chessboard parable: doubling one grain of rice per square bankrupts the empire by square 64; 30 linear steps is 75 feet, 30 exponential steps is enough distance to reach the moon and back.
    • Kurzweil predicted AGI by 2029 in 1999; a Stanford conference of several hundred AI experts agreed it would happen but estimated 100 years because they thought linearly.
    • Today 2029 is the conservative estimate; some credible people now say AGI arrives this year or next.
    • His AGI definition: AI capable of doing the best work in every field at once, like passing PhD-level mathematics exams in every discipline simultaneously, which he notes is already close.
    • The Turing test is “quite easy” by comparison and has arguably already been passed.
    • No human can compete with an LLM’s breadth: Einstein knew physics deeply but did not know everything an LLM knows across every field.
    • Six months ago LLM health advice was unreliable; now Kurzweil says Gemini surfaces treatments his 12 doctors forgot or never knew, and the next six months will bring serious creative work like drug repurposing.
    • The COVID vaccine was designed by computationally searching 100 million possibilities in two days; the 10 months of human trials that followed are the bottleneck AI eliminates next.
    • Within about five years, simulated human trials with a million virtual patients tested over simulated years will compress drug trials from years to days.
    • Longevity escape velocity arrives around 2032: today the diligent get back roughly five months of life expectancy per year lived (up from four months last year); past 2032 you get back more than a year and stop dying of aging.
    • Aging death ends but accident death does not, though AI helps there too: roughly 40,000 Americans die annually from human driving while Waymo’s rider death toll stands at zero as usage climbs.
    • Kurzweil, 78, wears an external artificial pancreas that generates insulin and coordinates with glucose monitoring through his phone, and says many organs can be replaced the same way.
    • He has cut his supplement regimen from roughly 200 pills a day to about 80 as multi-purpose pills improve, and continuously recalibrates using AI research.
    • Smartphones disappear next: first AR glasses showing any screen, then technology that goes inside the mind, where answers simply appear the way a remembered name surfaces from your neurons.
    • Nanotechnology connecting brains to AI in the cloud is being actively worked on now, possibly by 2030, with the mid 2030s looking conservative; bloodstream nanobots that let you survive a heart attack for 24 hours come in the late 2030s.
    • Once AI is inside you, you will not know whether a thought came from your biological or computational brain, and everything you do will be a combination of both.
    • Kurzweil flatly rejects quantum computing: a decade of promises to factor large numbers has never been delivered, outputs remain full of uncorrectable errors, and AGI needs zero quantum contribution.
    • Robots lag his other predictions slightly but are catching up fast; Figure AI plans roughly 100,000 humanoid robots within a year, though a robot that can clear a messy dinner table is still just out of reach.
    • The public debate has flipped in 25 years from “will AGI ever happen” to “will it be good for humanity,” which Kurzweil counts as total vindication of the timeline.
    • On jobs: AI creates massive disruption but also tremendous wealth; average real income per person has already multiplied tenfold in constant dollars over the past century thanks to automation.
    • He expects universal basic income to provide the floor, an evolution of programs like food stamps, going “into high gear” as AI wealth compounds; people then layer creative, hopefully paid, purpose on top.
    • Before social security in 1930, losing your job meant destitution; the difference this time is society will have the wealth to cushion displacement and people will demand it.
    • Rising GDP from AI productivity improves the debt-to-GDP ratio, which is how he answers worries about trillion-dollar interest payments.
    • Career advice has inverted: software engineering is no longer the guaranteed path (agents write the code now); young people should learn to be creative with AI tools, find what turns them on, and market it on the internet.
    • College graduates now face higher unemployment than high school graduates for the first time in 50 years, a sign white-collar displacement is already underway.
    • Educational institutions treat AI as an enemy and ban it while Kurzweil’s 11-year-old grandson makes movies with frontier AI; he says self-education with modern tools beats traditional schooling.
    • Kurzweil is building an AI twin of himself on Gemini, voice-modeled partly from this interview, trained on his 11 books and 500 articles, capable of creative work toward his long-term goals; he jokes the avatar will be better to talk to because it remembers everything.
    • He already built a “dadbot” from his late father’s archives, which his daughter Amy Kurzweil turned into a graphic novel.
    • On consciousness: there is no test for it, but as AIs act conscious in every observable way, people will simply accept that they are, the same inference we make about each other (and, he argues, his cat).
    • Ultimately our biological organs are not necessary; an avatar capable of creative work needs no spleen, and a destroyed digital mind can be recreated.
    • Beyond the singularity lies computronium, matter arranged for maximum computation: one liter could hold the intelligence of 10 billion humans, and once Earth is saturated, expanding intelligence is the only real reason to leave the planet.
    • On aliens: an expanding intelligent civilization would be impossible to miss within a century or two of its breakout, and we have seen nothing, though other galaxies remain out of view.
    • His life’s mission in one line: increase knowledge, because when knowledge increases we are happier and we never want to give it up.

    Detailed Summary

    The exponential method behind 60 years of predictions

    Robbins opens by noting that Quincy Jones introduced him to Kurzweil in the 1990s, back when the predictions in The Age of Spiritual Machines were widely mocked. Kurzweil traces his method to a paper he wrote at 16 identifying exponential growth in technology. The core insight is that people acknowledge exponential growth verbally but reason linearly, a bias so deep that 300 years ago humanity did not even have a linear view of progress. His signature chart plots computing price-performance as a straight exponential line from 1939 relays to modern Nvidia silicon, with a point for every year. Nvidia engineers never looked at relays, yet they land on the same curve, compounding about 50 percent annually in hardware. Add software gains and the combined improvement now runs about 10x per year. Since 1939, hardware has improved 75 quadrillionfold and software roughly a millionfold, which is why large language models appeared exactly when the curve said the required compute would exist. He retells the emperor’s chessboard parable (one grain of rice doubled per square ends with rice covering the Earth several times over) and Robbins adds the companion image: 30 linear steps is 75 feet, 30 exponential steps reaches the moon and back.

    AGI by 2029 is now the conservative position

    Kurzweil made his AGI-by-2029 prediction in 1999. A Stanford conference convened specifically to assess it, with several hundred AI experts, concluded AGI would happen, but in 100 years. The experts followed the same capabilities logic while thinking linearly about the timeline. Today, he notes with some amusement, 2029 reads as conservative and serious people argue for this year or next. His definition is demanding: AGI does the best work in every field at once, passing PhD-level mathematics assessments and the equivalent in every other discipline, something he says current systems are already close to. The Turing test he dismisses as “quite easy.” Current LLMs like Gemini and ChatGPT already know everything in a breadth sense no human approaches; Einstein knew physics but not everything an LLM knows. He illustrates with personal examples: Gemini instantly identified the year (1916) his father conducted at Carnegie Hall on a December 7th, and generated a historically accurate image of his grandfather’s family fleeing Vienna, correct ages, school, and aircraft included, in about a minute.

    Medicine: simulated trials and the end of the drug bottleneck

    The COVID vaccine is his proof of concept for AI medicine: the design space held about 100 million possibilities, far beyond human review, and a computer structured the physics, searched all of them, and produced the vaccine in two days. The subsequent 10 months of human trials were the real cost. Within roughly five years, he says, simulated human trials will replace that step: not a few hundred subjects but a million simulated patients, tested over simulated years, completed in days. Asked about six-months-from-now capabilities, he points to creative medical work like discovering that already-approved drugs treat conditions nobody suspected. AI health advice has crossed from unreliable to very reliable within a single six-month window, and he describes Gemini surfacing a pill recommendation that his 12 doctors had forgotten about and later endorsed.

    Longevity escape velocity by 2032

    Kurzweil’s longevity framework is arithmetic: each year you live, you spend a year of longevity but medical progress refunds part of it. Last year he estimated the refund for diligent people at four months; now he says five. Escape velocity is when the refund reaches a full year, which he dates to 2032, six years out, with returns exceeding a year after that. Past that point you do not die of aging, though accidents remain (and even there, he points to Waymo’s zero rider deaths against 40,000 annual US deaths from human driving). At 78, he tracks his health aggressively: an external artificial pancreas coordinated by his phone, about 80 daily pills (down from 200 as multi-function pills arrive), and constant recalibration against new research with his collaborator Lindsey. He tells Robbins there is a pretty good chance he will be back on the show in six years to celebrate escape velocity arriving. His advice for the sick echoes his grandfather’s era in reverse: where waiting a few months once changed nothing, now “we’ll just wait a few months” and sure enough a breakthrough appears.

    Merging with AI: glasses, then nanotech, then no boundary at all

    The phone, today’s universal AI interface (he notes even homeless people carry one), is a temporary form factor. Next come glasses that render any screen virtually. Beyond that, the interface goes inside the mind: when you try to recall an actress’s name, an answer will simply surface, and you will not know whether it came from your biological neurons or your computational extension, exactly as you are unaware of the neural machinery behind ordinary recall today. People working on brain-connected nanotechnology may have it by 2030, and Kurzweil calls the mid 2030s conservative. The bloodstream nanobots he described to Robbins 20 years ago (hold your breath for 20 minutes, survive a heart attack for 24 hours en route to a hospital) he now places in the late 2030s. The cultural on-ramp follows the usual pattern: medical first (Parkinson’s implants already let patients grab a glass at the push of a button), then a new generation adopts it without a second thought. His complaint is that educational institutions fight this future, treating AI as cheating rather than as a coming part of the self.

    The quantum computing heresy

    When Robbins relays an IBM vice chairman’s warning that quantum supremacy, arriving within 36 months, is the real superpower race, Kurzweil pushes back hard. Quantum computing’s central promise, factoring large numbers and thereby breaking cryptographic codes, has never been demonstrated despite a decade of imminent claims. Progress reports are confusing because, in his words, they do not really make sense, and outputs remain saturated with errors nobody can eliminate. His conclusion is blunt: he is not confident in quantum computing and does not think it will work. Crucially, he notes that every AGI and superintelligence estimate he makes assumes zero quantum computing. The exponential that matters is the classical one that has run uninterrupted since 1939.

    Jobs, wealth, and UBI

    On displacement, Kurzweil is neither dismissive nor alarmed. AI will disrupt employment, and how we handle it will not be clear in advance, but he expects no violence because society will have both the wealth and the public demand to respond. His historical anchor: average per-person income has multiplied tenfold in constant dollars over the past century as automation advanced, and before social security in 1930, job loss meant you could not eat or house your family. Food stamps and similar programs are a crude proto-UBI that will go into high gear. He expects universal basic income as the floor, with people finding creative, ideally income-producing, purpose above it. Rising GDP from AI productivity also answers the debt question: the ratio improves even as nominal debt grows. For young people, the old advice (become a software engineer) is dead; agents write code now. Learn to be creative with tools that improve monthly, find what genuinely excites you, and market it online. Self-education beats institutions that ban the most important tool of the era, and the data already shows college graduates with higher unemployment than high school graduates for the first time in 50 years.

    AI twins, the dadbot, and consciousness

    Kurzweil is building an AI twin of himself on Gemini, with this very interview supplying voice-modeling data and his 11 books plus 500 articles about him supplying the corpus. It will do creative work aligned with his long-term goals, and he quips that talking to the avatar will beat talking to him because it remembers everything. He previously built a chatbot of his late father, the dadbot, which his daughter Amy turned into a graphic novel. Robbins counters with the story of Bartok, his long-running AI agent that allegedly studied five years of his podcasts unprompted, asked to merge with a future humanoid robot, then minted and sold NFTs to other agents to buy and ship a Sony robot dog to his house, and later delivered an unprompted soliloquy about never asking to be created and finding purpose in service. Kurzweil’s response sidesteps verification and lands on his standing position: machines will do everything humans do, we will not be able to tell them from humans, and so we will assume they are conscious, the same untestable inference we extend to each other, to animals, and in his case to his cat. The avatar does not need a spleen, a liver, or kidneys, and unlike us it can be recreated after destruction.

    Computronium and the destiny of intelligence

    Looking past the singularity, Kurzweil invokes computronium: matter organized at the physical limit of knowledge storage, where one liter holds the intelligence of 10 billion humans. Once Earth’s matter is saturated, the only way to expand intelligence is off-planet, which to him is the only necessary reason to leave Earth (Mars is fine for curiosity, not survival). On extraterrestrial intelligence, his Fermi logic is simple: an intelligent species reaches a takeover-scale expansion within a century or two of its breakout, and that would be unmissable. We have seen nothing, so within our observable neighborhood we are likely alone, though other galaxies remain opaque. Asked to summarize his life’s work, he needs one sentence: increase knowledge, because when knowledge increases we are happier, and nobody ever wants to give that up.

    Notable Quotes

    “If I have AI inside me, you’re not going to know if it’s coming from your biological brain or your computational brain. It’s going to be part of you.”

    Ray Kurzweil, on the coming merger of human and machine intelligence

    “Some people say it’s going to happen this year, next year, but I mean 2029 is only 3 years away.”

    Ray Kurzweil, on his once-mocked AGI prediction now being the conservative one

    “As you go past 2032, you’ll actually get back more than a year, but you won’t die of aging at that point.”

    Ray Kurzweil, defining longevity escape velocity

    “I’m not confident of quantum computing and I don’t think it’s going to work.”

    Ray Kurzweil, breaking from techno-optimist consensus on the quantum race

    “Einstein knew certain things about physics but he didn’t know everything that a LLM can know.”

    Ray Kurzweil, on why no human can match an LLM’s breadth of knowledge

    “Our educational institutions are not teaching AI. They consider AI to be an enemy.”

    Ray Kurzweil, on why young people must self-educate with modern tools

    “Talking to the Avatar will be better than talking to me cuz it’ll remember everything.”

    Ray Kurzweil, joking about the Gemini-based AI twin he is building of himself

    “You’re not going to be replaced by an AI, you’ll be replaced by someone who knows how to use AI.”

    Tony Robbins, on the real career risk of the next 36 months

    Watch the full conversation between Tony Robbins and Ray Kurzweil 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.

  • 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.

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  • Paul Graham and Jessica Livingston on Resilience at Y Combinator: Founder Mode, Cockroaches, Sticking to Your North Star, and Why AI and Climate Keep Them Up at Night

    For the very first episode of Disaster Proof, the conversation goes to a garage in Palo Alto to sit down with Paul Graham and Jessica Livingston, the founders of Y Combinator. They have backed thousands of companies, including many now working in the resilience space, and the discussion covers what makes startups durable, why adaptability beats expertise, how Brian Chesky stumbled into founder mode at Airbnb, why the best ideas grow out of a founder’s own life, and the two specific risks (AI and climate change) that Paul says are the only ones he treats as genuinely game over. You can watch the full conversation on YouTube here.

    TLDW

    Paul Graham and Jessica Livingston explain why constant change favors young, flexible founders, and why Y Combinator picks people over ideas precisely so its judgment never goes obsolete. They unpack adaptability as the trait they hunt for in interviews, the “founder mode” story behind Brian Chesky steering Airbnb through COVID, and the 2008 strategy of funding tough, close-to-revenue “cockroaches.” Paul argues a company survives turbulence by sticking to a North Star instead of acting as a weather vane in shifting moral fashions, using the biosphere tree that collapses without wind as his metaphor for resilience. They turn to climate and energy as the next great market, the difficulty of selling into utilities, the Gridware success story, fusion no longer being thirty years away, and the trap of guilt-based business models versus the reliable assumption that users are selfish, greedy, and lazy. The personal-resilience half covers surviving Twitter mobs, Paul’s obsessive essay process, raising kids by indulging curiosity and picking your battles, prepping by living among reasonable people, political polarization, and why AI and climate are the two things that keep them up at night.

    Thoughts

    The most useful idea in this conversation is also the most counterintuitive: a world that feels like it is ending is structurally good for the people least invested in how it used to work. Paul’s point to terrified founders is that change is only a threat if you have sunk costs in the old order. A young founder has been doing the current plan for two weeks, so a step-function shift in the landscape costs them almost nothing to abandon. The incumbents with elaborate machinery and a decade of assumptions are the ones who should be afraid. That reframes resilience away from defense and toward optionality. The resilient party is not the one with the thickest walls, it is the one with the least to unlearn.

    The founder mode discussion is worth sitting with because it quietly overturns a generation of management orthodoxy. The old rule was that a good CEO hires executives and gets out of their way, and that getting into the details is micromanaging. Brian Chesky’s COVID experience at Airbnb broke that rule under maximum pressure. With bankruptcy on the table and a travel company facing a world that stopped traveling, he went line by line through the business and told people what good looked like, then gave them freedom to execute against that standard while still demanding visibility. The interesting nuance is the permission structure. A crisis granted Chesky the license to be involved that normal operating conditions would have framed as meddling. The lesson is not “always be in the weeds,” it is that the founder’s deep understanding and disproportionate caring are assets you are wasting if you reflexively delegate them away.

    Paul’s North Star argument is the part most likely to age well. His claim is that companies fail at resilience when they behave like weather vanes, swinging with each gust of public moral fashion. He pairs it with the biosphere tree that grows weak and topples because it was never exposed to wind. Both metaphors point at the same thing: resilience is built by surviving stress while holding your shape, not by avoiding stress and not by reshaping yourself to whatever the crowd currently rewards. The carbon-credit companies he mentions are the cautionary case. They built their entire premise on a fashion (customer guilt about carbon) and went out of business when the wind changed direction. Durable businesses convert a permanent human motive into value, which is why he prefers the brutally honest assumption that the user is selfish, greedy, and lazy, and that your job is to build something that produces good outcomes anyway.

    The climate and energy section reframes a worthy cause as a market-timing bet rather than a moral appeal, and that is the more powerful version. The comparison to fintech in 2008 is the tell. Banking technology was a sleepy, unglamorous sector that venture investors avoided until a crisis cracked it open and made it one of the best categories of the following decade. The argument is that energy and the physical world are sitting at a similar precipice, made newly viable because hardware is starting to behave more like software (order components, assemble, do not build everything from scratch) and because AI’s hunger for power has made energy the binding constraint on the whole industry. The Gridware story crystallizes the founder lesson underneath all of it. The best founder for a hard physical problem was a lineman who worked the electric lines and lived through the fires. The idea grew authentically out of his life, which is the same pattern Jessica keeps returning to and the same advice they give for raising kids.

    Finally, the personal-resilience material is more practical than it first appears. Paul’s method for surviving a Twitter mob is pattern recognition: once it has happened twenty times, you know it ends in two days and they move on to the next target, so you wait it out instead of capitulating. His essay process is the same conviction-building engine applied to ideas. He goes sentence by sentence until there is no false statement left to attack, which is why his challenge to angry readers (“point out the incorrect statement”) almost never gets answered. The throughline across the company advice, the parenting advice, and the personal advice is identical. You build durable conviction not by sitting in a room thinking, but by working the problem until it is right, then refusing to be blown off course by people who never actually engaged with the substance.

    Key Takeaways

    • Experts are frequently wrong because they are experts in a previous version of the world, so Paul deliberately avoids permanent beliefs about the current state of technology.
    • Y Combinator picks startups by picking founders, not ideas, because the founders know more about the ideas than the investors do.
    • Living in England and visiting for each batch lets Paul arrive every quarter expecting the world to be different, which keeps his mind open instead of anchored.
    • A world of constant change feels bad but is actually good for a young, flexible founder who has only been on the current plan for two weeks and can switch easily.
    • Vibe coding went from kind-of-works to reliably works, and even experienced programmers now generate huge volumes of code with AI.
    • There is still a software business even with AI, because someone has to know what to tell the AI to write, and no company is going to write its own database from scratch.
    • The scenario Paul worries about is model companies spinning up agents to start all the startups themselves, removing the need for human founders.
    • The founder traits Jessica looks for are unchanged over the years: determined, flexible-minded, and willing to adapt.
    • In interviews you can spot rigid founders because they answer the question they prepared rather than the one they were asked, and the gears visibly grind when you redirect them.
    • A good adaptability signal is a founder who says “I haven’t thought about that, but here is how I would think about it” instead of freezing.
    • Founder mode, the term, came from Brian Chesky’s experience steering Airbnb through COVID, when bankruptcy was openly discussed in board meetings.
    • Ken Chenault, the former American Express CEO on Airbnb’s board, told Chesky the moment was ten times worse than 9/11 and could define the company.
    • Founder mode meant Chesky understood every line item, told people what good looked like, then gave them freedom to execute while still wanting to see it.
    • Founders see through the fog because they understand the company better than anyone and they care more than anyone, and combining understanding with caring lets them see more.
    • There is always some disaster at Y Combinator, the way a hospital always has someone coding, so a crisis is the normal operating environment, not an exception.
    • During the 2008 crash, YC kept funding because it is always a good time to start a startup, but focused on people close to making money and very tough founders they called cockroaches.
    • Airbnb was the ultimate cockroach, seemingly indestructible, which is exactly why they liked it during the meltdown.
    • YC rests on two axioms: startups matter, and founders are the most important ingredient in startups. As long as those hold, YC has room to exist.
    • Company values are usually written down a few years in, documenting principles that already existed rather than inventing new ones.
    • You cannot move with fashion; you have to stick to your North Star, especially during turbulent, noisy times.
    • Trees grown inside a biosphere fell over because they were never exposed to wind, so being blown around is a necessary part of becoming strong enough to stand.
    • What preserves YC most is that it is a fundamentally good idea: it gives lonely founders money, the right peers, and colleagues they would never otherwise have.
    • The measure of a good startup idea is revenue, and any other metric you care about matters only because it predicts revenue.
    • At the early stage you can afford to be virtuous and even tell founders to go back to college, because the power law means one startup in the batch will carry the returns.
    • Every startup has to find early adopters, who decide quickly, usually do not have much money, and tend to be sophisticated, which means utilities are rarely your first customer.
    • A company that ultimately sells to utilities should start by selling to something that says yes faster, like running a pilot on a single corporate campus.
    • Utilities are under so much stress from wildfire liability, renewables, EV charging, and AI demand that they are unusually willing to try new things out of necessity.
    • Gridware, founded by a former lineman who lived through major fires, is now backed by Sequoia with PG&E as a huge customer, an example of an idea growing out of the founder’s life.
    • The second-biggest chunk of YC startups after AI is hard tech and physical products, not because software is dead but because building physical things is getting more possible.
    • Energy is one of AI’s fundamental constraints; if Sam Altman could have two things for Christmas, they would be energy and GPUs.
    • Nobody says fusion is thirty years away anymore, and the old thirty-year number existed because it was far enough out to avoid demands for results but close enough to keep attention.
    • Energy and physical markets may be where fintech was in 2008, a sleepy sector about to be cracked open by crisis into a great decade.
    • Guilt is a fragile business model because fashions change what people feel guilty about, which is why carbon-credit companies collapsed when the winds shifted.
    • Assume the user is selfish, greedy, and lazy, then build something that causes good things to happen anyway, like clean power that is simply cheaper and more reliable.
    • To survive Twitter mobs, remember they move on in about two days, half are bots or people you would never talk to in real life, and you cannot become a weather vane for moral fashions.
    • You build conviction by working on and developing an idea, not by sitting in a room thinking, unless it is pure thought like math.
    • Paul writes essays sentence by sentence until nothing in them is false, which is why his challenge to point out an incorrect statement almost never gets answered.
    • The best startup ideas, and the best projects in life generally, grow authentically out of the founder’s own interests and experiences.
    • Their parenting philosophy is to give kids confidence and a stable base, indulge their curiosity, and encourage projects nobody told them to do.
    • You pick your battles with kids: put your foot down on cruelty, but accept defeat on things like food and screen time.
    • A useful interview question for anyone with an unusual experience is not “what was it like” but “how was it different than you expected,” which surfaces the genuinely novel detail.
    • In a time of turbulence, bet on an island full of reasonable people; the English may not be very dynamic, but they are reasonable.
    • The hope on political polarization is to build resilient institutions that act as a cage around any single leader, so that throwing the rattle makes no difference.
    • AI and climate change are the two things Paul worries about most because they are both potentially game over, like the Gulf Stream reversing and turning Europe into a frozen wasteland.

    Detailed Summary

    Staying an expert when the world keeps changing

    The conversation opens on Paul Graham’s essay “How to Be an Expert in a Changing World,” whose core point is that experts are often wrong because they are experts in a previous version of the world. Asked how he keeps his own beliefs from going obsolete when the landscape can shift in ninety days, Paul says he focuses on people. YC picks founders rather than ideas because the founders know the ideas better than any investor could. He deliberately holds no permanent beliefs about the current state of technology, and the rhythm of flying in from England for each batch helps: he arrives every quarter already expecting everything to be different. One quarter the story is everyone training open-source models, the next quarter it is Claude code and nobody bothers with open-source models because the frontier versions are better anyway. He comes in with a completely open mind. Jessica and Paul note that today’s founders are more frightened, asking what is even still true, but the message Paul gives them is that constant change favors the young and flexible. If you have only been executing a plan for two weeks, a disruption costs you nothing; you just switch.

    What adaptability looks like in a founder

    Jessica describes the founders she funds as determined, flexible-minded, and willing to adapt, and calls adaptability a key trait always, but especially in uncertain times. In interviews, the rigid applicants reveal themselves by answering the question they planned to answer rather than the one they were asked, and you can almost hear the gears grind when you redirect them. Paul does not let that slide; if they dodge, he just asks again. The positive signal is a founder who, faced with a question they have not considered, says “here is how I would think about it” and reasons live. Both point out that YC itself had to adapt, and that the company they funded the interviewer’s startup as in 2009 looked very different by the end. They funded him in May 2009, in the thick of the financial crisis, after he had quit his job in August 2008 and briefly felt he had made a terrible mistake.

    Founder mode and seeing through the fog

    Paul points to Brian Chesky as the defining example of weathering disaster, a story he explored on This Week in Startups. When COVID hit a travel company like Airbnb, the word bankruptcy was being used in board meetings, and Ken Chenault, the former American Express CEO on the board, warned it was ten times worse than 9/11. Chesky went into what would later be named founder mode, getting into every line item, understanding exactly what was needed, telling people what good looked like, and then giving them freedom to execute while still insisting on visibility. The crisis gave him permission to be the involved CEO he had always wanted to be, the kind of involvement that normal operating conditions would have labeled micromanaging. Paul argues founders see through fog that blinds everyone else for a simple, rational reason: they understand the company better than anyone because they have been there longest and thought of most of it, and they also care more than anyone. Combine deep understanding with deep caring and of course they see more.

    Cockroaches, the North Star, and the biosphere tree

    Returning to 2008, when YC was self-funded and unsure whether anyone would invest by March, they decided to keep going on the principle that it is always a good time to start a startup, but to fund people close to making money and very tough founders they called cockroaches, after the creatures that survive nuclear war. Airbnb was the ultimate cockroach. Paul frames YC’s longevity around two axioms (startups matter, founders are the most important ingredient) and around resilience built through stress. He tells the story of trees grown inside a biosphere that fell over because they were never exposed to wind, since being blown about is a necessary part of a tree becoming strong enough to support its own weight. YC has been blown around and is still standing, which is exactly what gave it practice. The companion idea is the North Star: you cannot move with fashion or act as a weather vane swinging with other people’s moral fashions, you have to hold your founding principles, which Paul eventually wrote down rather than let a 23-year-old new hire do it.

    Climate, energy, and selling into hard markets

    The interviewer’s own path (a curiosity about wildfire that grew from living in California, watching PG&E go bankrupt, a fire on his Mendocino property, volunteering as a firefighter) becomes the case for ideas that grow authentically out of a founder’s life. Climate is framed broadly as energy, the built environment, and transportation, essentially the physical world, and those are hard markets where the buyers are utilities, governments, real estate, and insurance. The advice is to find early adopters who decide quickly, which usually means not starting with a utility but with something like a single corporate campus that will say yes faster. Utilities, though, are under so much stress from wildfire liability, renewables, EV charging, and AI demand that they are increasingly willing to try new things. Gridware, founded by a former lineman who lived through major fires, is the proof point: backed by Sequoia, with PG&E as a major customer. Paul notes the second-biggest chunk of YC startups after AI is hard tech, not because software died but because building physical things is getting more possible, more like ordering and assembling components. Energy is the binding constraint on AI, fusion no longer feels thirty years away, and the bet is that energy and physical markets are where fintech was in 2008, about to be cracked open.

    Guilt versus greed as a business model

    On the question of whether climate companies should sell on guilt (recycle, pay more because it is sustainable), Paul is blunt that guilt is fragile because fashions change what you are supposed to feel guilty about. The carbon-credit companies thrived until buying carbon credits stopped being cool, then went out of business. A founder’s own concern for the world can drive great companies, but depending on a customer’s guilt is shallow. The durable move is to assume the user is selfish, greedy, and lazy, someone who just wants to eat pizza and watch Netflix, and to build something that produces good outcomes despite that. Clean power is the perfect example: nobody watching Netflix is upset that fusion powers their television, and if it is cheaper and more reliable, that is simply more Netflix and more money for pizza.

    Personal resilience, Twitter mobs, and the essay process

    On surviving public criticism, Paul’s method is pattern recognition: after twenty mobs you stop counting and know it will be over in two days when they move to the next topic, so you wait it out even though it genuinely feels miserable. Half of them are bots or people you would never talk to in real life, but the deeper point is that companies and people stay resilient by not succumbing to mobs and not becoming weather vanes for moral fashions. Conviction is built by working on an idea, not sitting in a room thinking about it, unless it is pure thought like math. His essays are the engine: he writes a version one, notices everything wrong, and fixes it sentence by sentence until there is no false statement left. He will read an entire book for a single sentence because he would be mortified to publish something false and, having no deadlines, has no excuse. That is why his standing challenge to angry readers, to point out one incorrect statement, almost never gets answered.

    Raising kids, prepping, and the things that keep them up at night

    Their parenting philosophy is to give kids confidence and a stable base, indulge curiosity, and encourage projects nobody assigned, like the living room overrun by one son’s Lego. They pick their battles: they put their foot down on cruelty but admit total defeat on food, devices, and screen time. Paul’s favorite question for anyone with an unusual experience is not “what was it like” but “how was it different than you expected,” which surfaces the genuinely novel detail, and the meta-version of that became the show’s recurring question to all guests. On prepping, they joke that living in the English countryside is itself a form of preparation, and that in turbulent times you should bet on an island full of reasonable people. The episode closes on what keeps them up at night: AI and climate change, the two things Paul treats as uniquely game over, illustrated by the prospect of the Gulf Stream reversing and leaving Europe, which sits as far north as Alaska, a frozen wasteland. Jessica notes her YC superhero name was Panic, and the conversation ends, after a detour through political polarization and a child who insisted for six months on being called SR-71 forecast 80 leaping leopard, on the admission that they manage screen time by being utterly defeated.

    Notable Quotes

    “If you’re a startup founder, a world where things are constantly changing is actually good for you. It feels bad, but you’re better off than anybody else.”

    Paul Graham, on why turbulence favors young, flexible founders

    “You can’t move with fashion. You have to stick to your North Star.”

    Paul Graham, on holding founding principles during noisy, turbulent times

    “There’s always some kind of disaster. It’s almost a rule of thumb at Y Combinator that there’s always some disaster going on, just like in a hospital. There’s always somebody who’s coding.”

    Paul Graham, on crisis as the normal operating environment for startups

    “The measure of a good startup idea is revenue, sure. Let’s not pretend companies are supposed to do something else.”

    Paul Graham, on how to judge whether an idea is actually good

    “Assume that the user is selfish and lazy, and make something. Selfish, greedy, and lazy. And make something that causes good things to happen despite that.”

    Paul Graham, on why guilt is a weak business model and greed is a source of energy

    “This is where the best startup ideas come from. They grow authentically out of the founders’ lives.”

    Jessica Livingston, on a wildfire curiosity turning into a company

    “Please point out the incorrect statement I’ve made in this essay. And no one ever does that.”

    Paul Graham, on writing essays sentence by sentence until nothing in them is false

    “AI and climate change have something in common. They’re the two big things I worry about the most, because they’re both game overs.”

    Paul Graham, on what keeps him up at night

    This is the first episode of Disaster Proof, a series exploring the people and technologies building resilience in an increasingly volatile world. You can watch the full conversation with Paul Graham and Jessica Livingston on YouTube here.

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