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  • Why the Markets Are Pricing AI Wrong: Gavin Baker on the July 2026 Selloff, GPU Spot Prices, Memory LTAs, and Nvidia’s Credit Wrapper

    Gavin Baker of Atreides Management returned to Invest Like the Best with Patrick O’Shaughnessy days after one of the strangest months the AI trade has ever produced. AI and semiconductor names fell 40 to 60 percent in a straight line while, by Baker’s account, not a single quantitative metric on the ground deteriorated. He spent the week in Silicon Valley hunting for a bearish data point and came back with almost nothing except credit. This conversation is the result: a detailed argument that the market has mispriced the gap between contracted compute and spot compute, that open source is growing the infrastructure pie rather than shrinking it, and that the one risk actually worth fearing is political rather than financial.

    TLDW

    Gavin Baker describes July 2026 as “2022 packed into a single month,” a violent AI and semiconductor drawdown that happened while hyperscaler operating cash flow accelerated from roughly 28 percent growth to 32 percent, or closer to 35 percent adjusting for unusual legal charges. His core claim is that the installed base of GPU compute is locked into long-term contracts priced far below the current spot market, so as those contracts roll off, compute reprices higher, operating cash flow accelerates, and the buildout can be funded internally rather than with the debt that widening credit default swap spreads and a poorly received Meta bond have made look expensive. He walks through each catalyst of the selloff: Meta renting out compute (misread as a capex cut), the open source capability leap from GLM 5.2 and Kimi K3 (misread as deflationary when a token is a token and costs the same flops, watts, and memory to produce), China acquiring a domestic deep ultraviolet lithography machine (real but 25 years behind), and rising real yields (the only genuine negative). He covers the game theory of breaking a memory long-term agreement in a world where market share is set by supply allocations, Nvidia’s new credit wrapper plus revenue share model and why it is misunderstood, the router and fine-tuning stack from Fireworks and Baseten that turns “ChatGPT wrappers” into defensible AI natives, continual learning as the one technical development that could disrupt training demand, SRAM accelerators for disaggregated inference, SpaceX as an underappreciated compute company with orbital ambitions, and his view that regulation, not fundamentals, is the biggest risk because the industry has done a terrible job telling its own story. He also makes an unusual observation about market structure: everyone now feeds news into Claude, and Claude has become a kind of Walter Cronkite for the stock market, collapsing the diversity of interpretation that normally keeps markets stable.

    Thoughts

    The load-bearing claim in this episode is the spread between contracted and spot compute, and to Baker’s credit it is falsifiable in a way most bull cases are not. He is not arguing that AI will be transformative or that demand feels strong. He is arguing something narrow and checkable: hyperscalers and neoclouds signed multi-year GPU contracts in 2024 and 2025 at prices that assumed a gentle decline, prices instead went vertical, and the installed base is therefore systematically under-earning. A startup rented several thousand B200s in the mid two dollars per GPU hour range and expects to pay just under four dollars for an identical cluster seven months later. If that repricing is real and broad, hyperscaler operating cash flow mechanically accelerates and roughly 700 billion dollars of projected credit demand evaporates. If GPU rental prices roll over and stay down for two consecutive quarters, the thesis is dead. That is the number to watch rather than any earnings headline. The caveat he steps past quickly is that the open source mix shift he describes as bullish does not eliminate margin, it relocates it, out of the frontier labs and down into the infrastructure layer. Excellent if you sell GPUs, power, and memory. Considerably more awkward for the labs whose projected cash flows are the reason anyone believes the compute gets paid for at all.

    The Claude as Walter Cronkite observation deserves more attention than it got, where it passed as a joke. Baker is describing a genuine change in market microstructure. Every institutional and retail participant now feeds the same news into roughly the same models, and while those models are probabilistic, they are not producing meaningfully diverse readings of the same headline. He connects this to Michael Mauboussin’s argument that a breakdown in diversity, not leverage alone, is what produces bubbles and crashes. If that is what happened in July, then the Japanese capacitor stock chart he cites, an entire three-year cycle compressed into six weeks before the fundamentals had even arrived, is not a curiosity. It is the signature of a market where thousands of participants share one interpretive engine. That makes drawdowns faster and deeper without making them more informative, which argues for holding through machine-generated narrative cascades rather than trading them.

    The middle of the conversation contains the most consequential business idea in it, and it is one that got almost no coverage during the selloff: memory long-term agreements and Nvidia’s credit wrapper are the same move executed at two different layers of the stack. Both trade near-term upside for durability. The memory companies stopped maximizing spot price and started signing prepaid agreements with floors and ceilings, and the reason those agreements will hold is that the penalty for breaking one has changed category. Apple could renege on memory pricing for years because its volume was overwhelming and it had no equivalent competitor. In a world with four buyers that matter and where AI market share is set by supply allocation rather than product quality, a supplier can answer a broken price agreement by breaking the volume commitment and handing your allocation to a rival, in an industry where oversupply is always followed by undersupply. Nvidia is running the same play one layer up. The credit wrapper with a revenue share above a price floor converts a cyclical one-time chip sale into a royalty on recurring compute revenue, financed on someone else’s balance sheet, which is a materially better business than selling hardware. It also widens the moat, because a startup accelerator pays more at the foundry, pays more for high bandwidth memory, and cannot finance its chips at Nvidia’s rate. Baker is right that this is misunderstood, and it is a strange thing for a stock at a ten-year-low forward multiple to be quietly doing.

    The technical material in the back half reveals an asymmetry worth naming. Baker treats two efficiency developments very differently. Continual learning and sample efficient learning, which several labs believe are close, would collapse the token budget required to produce a capable model, and he handles this by asserting that training asymptotes to a small but nonzero share of compute and that the outcome would be wonderful for the world anyway. SRAM-based accelerators for disaggregated inference, running prefill on one chip, attention on a high-memory chip, and the feed forward network on SRAM, he embraces enthusiastically as a return-on-investment improvement across the installed base. Both are efficiency gains. One is treated as neutral, the other as clearly positive, and Jevons paradox is doing all the work in both directions. That is probably correct given everything we have observed so far, but it is an assumption rather than a finding, and it is the assumption on which the entire “cheaper compute is bullish for compute” framework rests. Worth noting too that the SRAM disaggregation point is genuinely underdiscussed: those chips sit on older nodes and do not compete for leading-edge capacity, so they are additive supply rather than substitute supply.

    The final twenty minutes hold both the largest unpriced upside and the largest unpriced risk, and neither is in consensus estimates. On the upside, only the hyperscalers, CoreWeave, Crusoe, and SpaceX have ever brought more than 500 megawatts online in a single year, and SpaceX has done it fastest and cheapest. When it dumped a large block of compute into the market, the market absorbed it without a blip, which tells you more about demand than any survey. Baker’s sanity check on orbital compute is the sharpest reasoning move in the episode: Benchmark, from entirely outside the Elon ecosystem and without the benefit of internal launch costs, funded StarCloud at a real valuation, so the set of people who would all have to be wrong keeps growing. On the downside, regulation is the risk he names first and it is the one his own framework cannot arbitrage. New York’s data center moratorium is not a fundamentals problem, and no amount of operating cash flow acceleration fixes a permitting ban. His diagnosis is that the industry finds the benefits so obvious that it never learned to explain them, which is how a water usage figure overstated by four orders of magnitude became conventional wisdom. Proposing a foundation that buys World Series ad time is a tell about how far behind he thinks the industry is. Every other risk in this conversation is priced somewhere. That one is not.

    Key Takeaways

    • Baker characterizes July 2026 as “2022 in a month,” with AI names down 40 to 60 percent from their highs in a straight line while underlying fundamentals improved.
    • He spent the week in Silicon Valley explicitly hunting for a negative quantitative metric and found essentially one: third-party data suggesting Anthropic’s growth curve came slightly off trajectory, a data point Anthropic shareholders reportedly dispute.
    • Nvidia was trading at its lowest forward price to earnings multiple in ten years at the time of recording. The only cheaper moments were the DeepSeek shock and Liberation Day, both of which proved to be V-bottoms.
    • A low forward multiple means the market believes these companies are significantly over-earning. Baker’s counter is that they are under-earning because their installed compute is contracted below spot.
    • Combined operating cash flow at Microsoft, Meta, and Amazon accelerated from roughly 28 percent to 32 percent growth, or to about 35 percent after adjusting for an unusual quarter of legal and regulatory charges.
    • Nobody in 2024 or 2025 modeled old GPU prices going vertical in 2026. The bull case assumed a slow decline in rental rates and the bear case assumed a steep one.
    • A concrete example: a well-known startup rented several thousand Blackwell B200s in the mid two dollars per GPU hour range and expects to pay just under four dollars for an identical cluster seven months later, a 50 to 60 percent increase.
    • One inference cloud stated publicly that it plans to pay roughly 100 percent more for Blackwells when its current contract expires.
    • Neoclouds were often forced into below-market long-term contracts because they needed an offtake agreement to finance the GPUs in the first place.
    • Consensus models hyperscalers monetizing Blackwell and Rubin at roughly Ampere rates, two generations behind, producing about 1.3 to 1.4 trillion dollars of hyperscale operating cash flow. Assuming monetization merely at a discount to current Blackwell rates pushes that closer to two trillion and removes roughly 700 billion dollars of credit demand.
    • The credit concerns are real and undeniable: real yields are up, spreads have widened, credit default swap levels for the large buyers have blown out, and a recent Meta bond did not price where a Meta bond should price.
    • Baker’s response is that debt-fueled buildouts demand immediate repayment and unwind violently, which is what happened in the internet buildout, but this buildout is still overwhelmingly funded from operating cash flow.
    • If credit is not available, he argues the existing flops simply become more valuable, which is self-correcting rather than catastrophic.
    • The Meta selloff catalyst was a misread. Meta renting out compute was interpreted as excess capacity and a capex cut. Meta did not cut capex, and the actual motivation appears to have been demonstrating strong internal rates of return on a small slice of capacity ahead of a capital raise.
    • The open source panic was also a misread. Open source taking token share moves margin dollars out of the frontier model layer, but a token still requires the same flops, memory, and watts to produce, so infrastructure demand rises rather than falls.
    • Frontier tokens carry gross margins somewhere in the 80 to 95 percent range. Open source tokens might carry 30 percent. The customer’s savings come almost entirely out of that margin, not out of compute consumption.
    • Baker calls open source “dark matter to the public markets,” growing rapidly through GLM 5.2, Kimi K3, and Nvidia’s Nemotron, but nearly impossible for public investors to measure since it runs through private inference clouds.
    • Jensen Huang being the world’s loudest supporter of open source is itself evidence that open source is good for Nvidia’s business.
    • Enterprises that blow through their AI budget in three months set up a router, which cuts their spend but often increases total GPU hours consumed by shifting volume to cheaper open source tokens.
    • Adoption is happening in staggered waves: AI natives are all in and hiring very few humans, coastal public companies are optimizing, East Coast and non-coastal companies have barely adopted, and Europe is trying to regulate AI before using it.
    • Roughly 500,000 people worldwide use agentic AI, and perhaps half that number use it seriously, yet the world is already in an acute compute shortage. The relevant question is what happens at 100 million or 500 million users.
    • Token spend at the most AI-forward companies now runs 20 to 25 percent of total compensation spend, with individual examples at 30 percent and reports as high as 50 percent, against a roughly 25 trillion dollar global knowledge work market.
    • Founder-controlled companies are not conducting large-scale layoffs, which suggests the cash flow to pay for AI is expected to come from growth rather than from labor substitution.
    • Memory is the dominant variable in token economics. More memory per unit of compute yields more tokens out, which lowers cost per token, which is why demand has shown no negative elasticity to memory pricing.
    • Memory suppliers have shifted from maximizing near-term price to signing long-term agreements with prepayments, floors, and ceilings, trading short-term upside for durability.
    • Breaking a memory long-term agreement is now potentially fatal. With four buyers that matter at scale and market share determined by supply allocation, a supplier can respond by breaking the volume commitment and handing your allocation to a competitor.
    • This is structurally different from the Apple era, when a single dominant buyer could break pricing agreements without consequence.
    • Nvidia’s new model is best described as a credit wrapper with a revenue share triggered when GPU prices exceed a floor. It is not vendor financing, since a third party lends the money, and it could produce a very large cloud-scale royalty business quickly.
    • Baker thinks this model is badly misunderstood, meaningfully increases Nvidia’s revenue per gigawatt, and strengthens its competitive position against startup accelerators that pay more at the foundry, pay more for high bandwidth memory, and cannot finance their chips as cheaply.
    • Nvidia has taken equity stakes across the ecosystem, and Baker’s read is that every time they have not taken a stake it has proven to be a mistake.
    • The scenario that would genuinely frighten him: hyperscaler operating cash flow stops accelerating, forcing the buildout onto debt, or a sustained sharp contraction in GPU rental prices. Nobody he has spoken to says they have too many GPUs.
    • Continual learning and sample efficient learning are the technical developments most likely to disrupt training demand, and several new labs including Safe Superintelligence are focused on them. Baker still thinks training asymptotes to a small share of compute rather than to zero, and that the change would be enormously good for the world regardless.
    • Fireworks launched a product called Nexus that plugs into Claude Code, OpenAI Codex, or Grok in roughly three lines of code, ingests a customer’s data, applies reinforcement learning to a model, and routes queries appropriately.
    • This stack is what converts an alleged “ChatGPT wrapper” into a defensible company. Shifting 30 to 60 percent of token consumption to a customized open model on top of frontier orchestration produces better outcomes at roughly half the cost.
    • Cheap, capable open source models may actually inflate the value of the very best frontier model, since a 160 IQ orchestrator becomes more valuable when it has an army of cheap 120 IQ models to direct.
    • The inference clouds are growing almost as fast as the frontier labs did in their early days while burning very little cash, which is extraordinary by any conventional software metric.
    • China obtaining a domestic deep ultraviolet lithography machine is a genuine phase transition and should not be dismissed, but the technology is roughly 25 years behind extreme ultraviolet, and lithography progress is learning by doing that cannot be teleported through.
    • Baker considers regulation the biggest single risk to AI, citing New York’s data center moratorium as the first of many and describing the current environment as post-factual and post-logical.
    • The public narrative that data centers raise power bills, drain water, and destroy jobs is largely wrong. Behind the meter deals typically lower local electricity prices, and modern community agreements include hospitals, schools, police and fire stations.
    • The widely cited data center water figure originated in a published error overstating usage by roughly 10,000 times, since acknowledged by the author, which Baker likens to the decimal point error that created the myth that spinach is exceptionally high in iron.
    • He argues data centers are among the best things to happen to blue collar wages in his lifetime, with ongoing rather than one-time employment from maintenance, replacement, and upgrade cycles.
    • SRAM-based accelerators built on older nodes and free of high bandwidth memory constraints could substantially improve return on investment by allowing disaggregated inference: prefill on one chip, attention on a high-memory chip, and the feed forward network on SRAM.
    • SpaceX has improved fundamentally since going public, and Baker believes the market does not yet understand it as a compute company. Only the hyperscalers, CoreWeave, Crusoe, and SpaceX have ever brought on more than 500 megawatts of power in a single year, and SpaceX has done it fastest and cheapest.
    • A widely circulated report claims SpaceX intends to bring on eight gigawatts of compute in 18 months. Baker doubts the number but notes that at roughly 50 billion dollars of monetization per gigawatt, even a fraction of it dwarfs the current consensus estimate.
    • When SpaceX dumped a large block of compute into the market, it was absorbed without a blip, which Baker reads as one of the more bullish demand signals of the year.
    • Orbital compute feels more real every day. Benchmark funding StarCloud, from outside the Elon ecosystem and without access to internal launch costs, functions as a useful sanity check on the idea.
    • Dark horse names Baker flags for the next phase: Lip-Bu Tan, Lin Qiao at Fireworks, and Scott Wu at Cognition.

    Detailed Summary

    A Selloff That Contradicted Every Fundamental

    Baker opens by describing July 2026 as 2022 compressed into a single month. AI names fell 40 to 60 percent from their highs in a nearly straight line. What made the month unusual was not the magnitude but the absence of a legible cause. In 2022 the market feared recession, rising rates, and inflation. During the DeepSeek shock and Liberation Day you knew exactly what the market was reacting to. This time the fundamentals moved in the opposite direction from the tape. GPU availability tightened, GPU rental pricing rose, DRAM spot prices rose, and token growth accelerated. Baker asked Patrick, who had also spent the summer in Silicon Valley, whether he had heard a single negative quantitative metric or a single instance of deceleration. The answer was nothing.

    Part of the problem is visibility. Public markets cannot see Anthropic or OpenAI directly, and they cannot see the American open source inference clouds like Fireworks, Baseten, Modal, and Together that monetize inference. Everyone stares at the same chart of semiconductor cash flow rising while hyperscaler free cash flow falls, and that chart omits the private companies entirely. It also omits the repricing dynamic Baker considers the most important fact in the market.

    The Spot Versus Contract Gap

    In 2024 and 2025 every serious forecast assumed GPU rental prices would decline, with the only debate being how fast. Neoclouds locked in long-term contracts partly out of prudence and partly because they needed offtake agreements to finance the hardware at all. The result is a large installed base of contracted compute trading at a steep discount to today’s spot market. Baker’s argument is that as those contracts roll off, compute reprices higher even if spot itself declines from current levels, and that repricing flows directly into hyperscaler operating cash flow.

    The anecdotes are stark. A prominent startup rented several thousand B200s in the mid two dollar per GPU hour range and expects to pay just under four dollars for an identical cluster seven months later. One inference cloud said publicly it plans to pay roughly double for Blackwells at contract renewal. Baker’s read is that hyperscalers are therefore under-earning across the board, which is the exact opposite of what a ten-year-low forward multiple implies the market believes.

    Financing the Buildout and the Credit Question

    Credit is the one bearish input Baker concedes is real. Real yields have risen, spreads have widened, credit default swap levels have blown out across the large buyers, and a recent Meta bond did not price the way a Meta bond should. Sophisticated private capital investors told him this is just banks hedging commitments, but he acknowledges the optics are bad and the facts are undeniable. His concern is the classic capital cycle: debt-financed buildouts demand immediate repayment, so when supply and demand slip out of alignment the unwind is fast and brutal, exactly as it was in the internet buildout.

    The math he ran is the counterweight. Consensus effectively models hyperscalers monetizing Blackwell and Rubin at Ampere rates, two generations behind, producing 1.3 to 1.4 trillion dollars of operating cash flow. Assume instead that they monetize merely at a modest discount to current Blackwell rates and the figure approaches two trillion, taking about 700 billion dollars of credit demand off the table. Better cash flow also improves the credit ratios, which makes debt cheaper if they choose to use it. And if credit disappears entirely, the flops already installed simply become more valuable. Microsoft brought on a large slug of capacity in June that did not even appear in second quarter results.

    How the Month Actually Unfolded

    Baker walks the sequence of catalysts. First, Meta announced it would rent out compute, which the market read as excess capacity and an imminent capex cut. Meta did not cut capex. What Meta appears to have seen was SpaceX selling trading-optimized clusters into the market at an enormous premium to contracted rates, and the plan was likely to demonstrate strong returns on a small slice of capacity before raising equity capital and increasing capex. Shortly afterward Meta released its best model in a long time, overshadowed by a competing release but a clear signal it was not easing off.

    Next came the open source freakout. Kimi K3 arrived, the widely watched token index dipped and flattened, and the two were connected: the index captures mix, and a shift from expensive frontier tokens toward open source tokens looks like weakness even when total compute consumption is rising. Then China’s deep ultraviolet lithography news triggered a broad selloff in semicap equipment. Finally, rising real yields and widening spreads gave the market a genuine reason to worry. Baker’s summary is that with the sole exception of credit, every one of these narratives was factually wrong, and a friend at Fidelity described the winning strategy of the past three years as doing the dumbest, most superficial thing as fast as possible and cycling between them.

    Open Source as Dark Matter

    The most important conceptual argument in the episode is that a token is a token. Regardless of which model produces it, a token consumes the same flops, the same memory, and the same watts. Open source taking share therefore does not reduce compute demand. It transfers margin from the frontier model layer, where gross margins might be 90 percent, to open weights inference at perhaps 30 percent, and the resulting price decline drives elasticity in token volume. Since frontier labs and open source models both run on the same underlying cloud infrastructure at the same compute cost, the effect is to push margin dollars down into the infrastructure layer.

    Baker calls open source dark matter to public markets. It is real, it is accelerating on the back of capability leaps from GLM 5.2 and Kimi K3, Nvidia continues to push Nemotron closer to the frontier, and yet none of it appears in audited financials that public investors can underwrite. He also notes the tell that should have settled the debate: Jensen Huang is the world’s most vocal supporter of open source, which would be an odd position for the largest beneficiary of frontier concentration to hold if open source actually threatened the business. Baker adds a normative point, that a world with only one or two dominant frontier models charging 90 percent margins is not good for humanity, and that many models is the better outcome.

    Routers, Fine-Tuning, and the End of the Wrapper Insult

    The practical mechanism behind the open source surge is the router plus fine-tuning stack. Inference clouds have become genuinely good at supervised fine-tuning and reinforcement learning, so a company can take its proprietary data, customize an open weights model, put it behind a router, and have the router send most queries to that model while escalating to a frontier model for verification or harder work. The result is often slightly better outcomes at half the cost. Fireworks shipped a product called Nexus that connects to Claude Code, OpenAI Codex, or Grok in roughly three lines of code and handles ingestion, reinforcement learning, and routing.

    This changes the durability question for AI natives. Two years ago the criticism was that these companies were thin wrappers with no defensibility. Now a company with domain-specific proprietary data can train on it, own the model serving 30 to 60 percent of its tokens, and get off the frontier lab treadmill it previously had no choice but to accept. Baker points to Cursor, Harvey, and others leaning hard into this. He also raises the counterargument fairly: some believe that once a frontier model achieves recursive self-improvement it will serve every intelligence level more cheaply through distillation, leaving no room for open source. He does not dismiss it, but he thinks the proprietary data held by AI natives and the orchestration value of the single smartest model make the multi-model future more likely. Cheap 120 IQ models arguably make a 160 IQ orchestrator more valuable, not less.

    Where the Money Comes From

    The pushback Baker gets on X is fair: even if hyperscalers are under-earning, where does the customer revenue ultimately come from? Definitionally it must come from faster economic growth through productivity or from labor substitution. He sees labor substitution happening at AI natives, though not through firing. They simply never hire the humans, and gross profit dollars per full-time employee at these companies is vertical compared with prior startup generations. Token spend now runs 20 to 25 percent of total compensation spend at the most aggressive companies, with individual examples at 30 percent and reports as high as 50 percent, against a roughly 25 trillion dollar global knowledge work market.

    The encouraging signal is that founder-controlled companies, the ones most likely to move fast on efficiency, are not conducting large-scale layoffs once you adjust for pandemic-era overhiring. That suggests they see continued opportunity for people plus large token budgets rather than a straight substitution. Data from Cognition, Ramp, and Stripe indicates that companies spending the most on AI are growing meaningfully faster, though Baker acknowledges the skeptics’ point that these datasets do not control for industry.

    The Memory Supply War and LTA Game Theory

    Everything is currently in shortage, and Baker argues the constraint is energizing gigawatts rather than manufacturing. Turbine makers and diesel generator makers are ramping, old aircraft turbines are being stripped and reconditioned for data center power, and regulatory policy is moving favorably. The transition he says he got wrong is the shift, especially in memory, from maximizing short-term pricing to signing long-term agreements with customer prepayments, price floors, and price ceilings.

    The reason those agreements will hold is game theory. Memory is the axis around which everything else revolves, because more memory per unit of compute means more tokens out, which lowers cost per token, which is why demand has shown essentially no negative elasticity. Market share among the four buyers that matter (Amazon with Trainium, Google with TPUs, AMD, and an Nvidia bigger than all of them combined) will be determined for years by supply chain allocation. Break a long-term agreement to chase a lower price in an oversupply year and the supplier can break the volume commitment in return and hand your allocation to a competitor. Since oversupply in this industry is reliably followed by undersupply, that is a decision that can end a franchise. Apple could get away with this historically because its volume was overwhelming and it had no equivalent competitor. That world is gone.

    Nvidia’s New Playbook

    Baker finds Nvidia’s low multiple hard to reconcile with how thoroughly the current environment favors it. If chips need to be financed, nothing on earth is more financeable than an Nvidia GPU. If land and power are the constraint, Nvidia has been playing the matchmaking chess game well. On top of that they have rolled out what Baker describes as a credit wrapper with a revenue share that kicks in when GPU prices sit above a floor. It is not vendor financing, since someone else lends the buyer the money. What it does is give Nvidia a royalty on recurring compute revenue, which could amount to a very large cloud business built entirely out of royalties, while helping bridge the cash flow mismatch between an industry that has gone free cash flow negative and a supplier collecting all the cash.

    Asked what he would do as a memory CEO, Baker says he would do exactly what Nvidia is doing: approach GPU and accelerator buyers, participate in the credit wrapper, perhaps put up cash upfront to make lenders comfortable, and take a cut of ongoing revenue. He expects firms like Blackstone and Apollo are pitching variants of this to the memory companies already. He also thinks the arrangement quietly widens Nvidia’s competitive moat, since startup accelerator companies pay more at the foundry, pay more for high bandwidth memory, and cannot finance their chips at Nvidia’s rate. And he notes that essentially every time Nvidia has declined to take an equity stake in something, it has turned out to be a mistake.

    What Could Break the Thesis

    Pressed for the scenario that would flip him, Baker names two. The first is operating cash flow failing to accelerate, which would force the buildout onto debt and validate the credit bears. That outcome depends largely on whether the combined trajectory of Anthropic, OpenAI, Grok, Cursor, and open source keeps compounding. The second is a sustained sharp contraction in GPU rental prices. The market would react instantly, and it would mean the compute shortage had broken. As of the recording, not a single person he has spoken with says they have too many GPUs.

    The technical wildcard is continual learning and sample efficient learning. Many researchers believe both are close. A human learns effectively on something like 20 billion tokens while frontier models train on 300 trillion, so a model that could be trained on 10 trillion tokens and then learn efficiently in the world would represent a discontinuity in training demand. Baker thinks training will asymptote to a small but nonzero share of compute regardless, and that the development would be extraordinarily good for the world. He also notes Nvidia is deeply involved with essentially all of the labs pursuing it.

    China, Lithography, and Decoupling

    On China’s deep ultraviolet lithography machine, Baker holds both views at once. It is a genuine phase transition, comparable to going from having no propeller plane to having one, because they did not have it before and now allegedly they do. It is also roughly 25 years behind extreme ultraviolet, and lithography is learning by doing, so you cannot teleport through the required cycles. He suspects the market overreacted and that if it ever affects ASML’s order book it will be years out, by which time the market will have forgotten and rediscovered the concern several times.

    He is careful about certainty here. It is very hard for an American to have real clarity on what is happening inside China, the people there are extremely capable and work brutally hard, and they consider this existential for the country. There are unverified reports that an extreme ultraviolet machine was smuggled in, which he treats as noise. His larger point is that decoupling is now self-reinforcing on both sides, it is unfortunate, and neither side is going to stop.

    Regulation, Data Centers, and a Failure of Storytelling

    Asked for the worst thing that could happen to AI, Baker answers regulation without hesitation. New York’s data center moratorium feels like the first of many, and even deep red pro-growth states are telling the industry it is doing a poor job explaining itself. The political narrative among ordinary Americans is that data centers will raise electricity prices, drain water supplies, and eliminate jobs. Baker’s counter is that behind the meter deals generally lower local electricity prices, that community agreements now routinely include hospitals, schools, police stations, and fire stations rather than the old model of buying the fire department new trucks, and that the jobs are ongoing rather than one-time because of continuous maintenance, replacement, and upgrade cycles.

    The water claim is the clearest case of a myth outrunning the correction. An author overstated data center water usage by roughly 10,000 times, has acknowledged the error repeatedly, and the figure still circulates. Patrick offers the parallel of the spinach iron myth, created by a misplaced decimal point in an academic text and still believed 80 years later. Baker’s proposed remedy is blunt: a foundation or political action committee running ads during the Final Four, NFL games, and the World Series explaining what a data center actually does for a community, alongside the story of AI accelerating medical research and improving outcomes for people with serious illness. The people building this find the benefits so obvious that they assume everyone already knows, and they cannot process how divergent their view is from most Americans.

    SRAM Accelerators and Disaggregated Inference

    An underdiscussed development, Baker argues, is what happens when SRAM-based accelerators arrive at scale. These chips are not constrained by high bandwidth memory and are often built on older nodes, so they do not compete for the leading edge capacity that GPUs consume. Inference disaggregates into prefill and decode, and decode splits further into attention and the feed forward network. The holy grail is running prefill on a chip without high bandwidth memory, attention on a high-memory chip, and the feed forward network on SRAM, which nothing beats for that workload. Since workloads keep changing, no single chip can get the ratio of compute to high bandwidth memory to on-die SRAM permanently right, which is precisely the argument for disaggregation. Baker expects this to be strongly positive for the return on investment across the installed base and on new compute.

    SpaceX, Orbital Compute, and Dark Horses

    Baker does not think the market understands SpaceX as a company yet, and he considers it the most important new public company. The fundamentals have improved since the IPO, and the compute story is the part being missed. Only the hyperscalers, CoreWeave, Crusoe, and SpaceX have ever brought more than 500 megawatts of power online in a single year, and SpaceX has done it fastest and cheapest while building clusters customers actually like. When SpaceX dumped a large block of compute into the market, it was absorbed without a blip, which Baker treats as one of the most bullish demand datapoints available. A circulating Substack report claims eight gigawatts within 18 months. He doubts that figure and quotes it only because it is public, but at roughly 50 billion dollars of monetization per gigawatt against a 73 billion dollar consensus estimate, even partial delivery would overwhelm expectations. There is a well-known New York hedge fund short case built on spot compute prices falling 90 percent.

    On orbital compute, Baker says time at Starbase left him thinking it feels more real every day, and the Starship landing reinforced it. His sanity check is that Benchmark, from entirely outside the Elon ecosystem and without the benefit of internal launch costs, chose to fund StarCloud at a real valuation, with SpaceX partnering to provide the Starlink laser technology that orbital compute requires. As he puts it, maybe he is crazy, maybe Elon is crazy, maybe Benchmark is crazy, and maybe the SpaceX engineers are crazy too, but all of that being true simultaneously does not seem probable. Asked for dark horses who could become as consequential as the current giants, he names Lip-Bu Tan, Lin Qiao at Fireworks, and Scott Wu at Cognition. The episode was recorded at Benchmark’s offices, at the table where their dinners are held.

    Notable Quotes

    “I want to be scared. I don’t want to feel like a lunatic watching these stocks get cheaper thinking the expected forward returns are going up.”

    Gavin Baker, on why he spent the week in Silicon Valley hunting for bearish data

    “I would describe July as 2022 in a month.”

    Gavin Baker, characterizing a 40 to 60 percent drawdown in AI names that happened in a straight line

    “Have you heard a single negative quantitative metric about AI? A single instance of deceleration?”

    Gavin Baker to Patrick O’Shaughnessy, framing the central contradiction of the month

    “A token is a token, and you need the exact same amount of compute to make a token. It takes the same amount of flops, the same amount of memory, the same amount of watts.”

    Gavin Baker, on why the open source panic misread infrastructure demand

    “Open source is kind of dark matter to the public markets. It’s hard for public markets to measure it.”

    Gavin Baker, on why the fastest-growing part of inference demand is invisible in audited financials

    “Claude is kind of Walter Cronkite for the stock market and everybody just believes whatever it says. And by the way, it’s really smart, but it’s not always right.”

    Gavin Baker, on the collapse of interpretive diversity among investors

    “Nvidia is actually, as we record this, at its lowest forward PE of the last 10 years.”

    Gavin Baker, noting the only cheaper moments were the DeepSeek shock and Liberation Day, both V-bottoms

    “If you break your LTA and then in the next two or three years for any reason leverage shifts back to the memory guys, you’re out of business.”

    Gavin Baker, on why long-term agreements will hold through the next memory cycle

    “If you need to be able to finance the chips, and you do, nothing’s more financeable than an Nvidia GPU. Nothing.”

    Gavin Baker, on why the current environment favors Nvidia more than its multiple suggests

    “Data centers are in a lot of ways the best thing to happen for blue collar wages in my lifetime.”

    Gavin Baker, on the gap between the political narrative and the local economics

    “A lie could go around the world faster than truth gets out of bed.”

    Gavin Baker, on a data center water usage figure overstated by roughly 10,000 times that still circulates

    “One of Elon’s phrases is we specialize in making the impossible late.”

    Gavin Baker, on why he doubts the eight gigawatt figure without betting against SpaceX

    Watch the full conversation here: Why the Markets Are Pricing AI Wrong with Gavin Baker on Invest Like the Best.

    Related Reading

    • Invest Like the Best on Colossus the show’s home, where the full episode archive and transcripts live.
    • Atreides Management Gavin Baker’s firm and the vantage point behind these compute and semiconductor calls.
    • More Than You Know by Michael Mauboussin, the source of the diversity breakdown framework Baker invokes to explain why markets crash when everyone reasons the same way.
    • High Bandwidth Memory (Wikipedia) background on the memory technology that sits at the center of the long-term agreement game theory.
    • Fireworks AI the inference cloud whose routing and fine-tuning stack Baker credits with making open source models competitive for production workloads.
  • OpenCode CEO Jay V on 20x Growth in 6 Months: 13 Million Users, 7 Trillion Tokens a Day, the Anthropic Block That Backfired, and the 16-Year Road to Overnight Success

    In this episode of Y Combinator’s Lightcone podcast, Jay V, founder and CEO of OpenCode, the open-source coding agent that works with any model, walks through one of the wildest growth stories in developer tools: 650,000 monthly active users in January to roughly 13 million by June, 7 trillion tokens processed per day, and a business that went from zero to a $40 million revenue run rate in about eight months. He also tells the part almost nobody knows: the company behind this “overnight success” is a 16-year-old legal entity that applied to Y Combinator nine times before getting in.

    TLDW

    Jay V explains how OpenCode grew 20x in six months to around 13 million monthly active users and 4.6 million weekly actives, processing 7 trillion tokens a day (more than OpenRouter’s entire volume), with an inference business annualizing near $40 million plus 160,000 subscribers worth another $18 million. The inflection point came when Anthropic started blocking Claude Code subscriptions inside OpenCode by rejecting requests whose system prompt contained the words “open code,” which backfired by equating the two products and sending curious users flooding in, shortly after which OpenAI’s Codex officially supported OpenCode. The conversation covers OpenCode’s public usage data (DeepSeek Flash dominating token volume despite GLM hype), a global user base led by China at 17% with heavy usage in Indonesia, Brazil, and Vietnam, Fortune 500 companies discovering thousands of employees already using the tool, the shift from ad-based CAC to token-based CAC, the flat 24-hour GPU utilization curve that comes from serving the whole planet, the “betting the field” marketplace thesis on model commoditization, and the founder’s 16-year, nine-application journey from a Waterloo dorm through SST, OpenNext, and selling coffee over SSH to finally catching lightning.

    Thoughts

    The Anthropic block is the most instructive growth story in the episode, because it is a perfect modern Streisand effect. Anthropic had a defensible reason to stop subsidized Claude Code subscriptions from flowing through a third-party harness, but the implementation (rejecting any request whose system prompt literally contained “open code”) turned a quiet policy decision into a public endorsement. As Jay puts it, the block placed OpenCode on the same pedestal as Claude Code in the minds of developers who had never heard of it. The hosts’ Instacart comparison is apt: when Amazon bought Whole Foods, the “death of Instacart” meme drove every grocer in America into Instacart’s arms. Incumbents keep learning this lesson the hard way. You cannot block a product without simultaneously advertising that it matters.

    The deeper story is geographic. Silicon Valley talks about coding agents as if the $200-per-month power user is the market, and Jay’s data says the opposite. China alone is 17% of OpenCode’s usage, with Indonesia, Brazil, and Vietnam each carrying meaningful share, places where a frontier subscription costs more than rent. OpenCode’s $10 Go plan, running DeepSeek and GLM instead of Sonnet and Opus, is how billions of developers will actually have their first coding-agent moment. There is also a hard operational edge hiding in that distribution: because the East works while the West sleeps, OpenCode’s GPU utilization runs a nearly flat 24-hour cycle, which quietly improves unit economics in a way no single-market competitor can match. Serving the whole planet is not just a mission statement. It is a margin strategy.

    OpenCode’s neutrality is turning into one of the most valuable datasets in AI. Because the product is a harness over every model rather than a storefront for one lab, opencode.ai/data shows what developers actually run when they are spending their own money, and it routinely contradicts the Twitter narrative. GLM was supposedly eating DeepSeek’s lunch; the token-volume charts show DeepSeek Flash dipping and then bouncing right back. Users are not loyal, they are rational: they ride frontier limits until they hit caps, then switch to models cheap and fast enough to finish the day’s work. That behavioral reality, boring cost optimization rather than fandom, is what the model market actually looks like once the marketing fog clears, and only a neutral aggregator gets to see it.

    The business model inversion deserves more attention than it usually gets. In the last era, customer acquisition cost meant ads. In this one, it means tokens: the free tier is the marketing budget, spent on giving people the aha moment, and the payoff comes when a fraction of those users become whales paying per token, where OpenCode’s volume discounts become margin. This is the same funnel Anthropic and OpenAI run, except the frontier labs subsidize with investor billions while OpenCode rides the falling cost curve of open-weight models. The enterprise motion follows the same bottoms-up physics: no procurement dance, just inbound emails saying thousands of our employees are already using you, please sign the security questionnaire. That is the purest product-market-fit signal that exists.

    And then there is the 16-year overnight success. Same legal entity since 2010, same two founders from a Waterloo dorm room, nine YC applications and four interviews before acceptance in 2021, years of living with parents and running out of money, a serverless framework, a coffee shop that ran over SSH. Every “dead end” turns out to have been training: the consumer company taught metrics discipline, SST taught open source and building in public, the terminal storefront taught terminal-UI craft that made OpenCode instantly credible with the Neovim crowd. The hosts land the right conclusion: lightning did strike, but the founders spent a decade positioning the bottle. In an industry currently obsessed with six-month-old unicorns, this episode is a useful reminder that most of them are carrying more history than the headline suggests.

    Key Takeaways

    • OpenCode ended June 2026 at roughly 13 million monthly active users and 4.6 million weekly actives, close to Codex’s numbers, a 20x increase from about 650,000 monthly actives at the start of the year.
    • The platform now processes around 7 trillion tokens per day, more than OpenRouter’s total of roughly 6 trillion, up from about 300 billion per day at the beginning of the year.
    • The pay-per-token inference business, launched around late September 2025, annualizes to $31-33 million on June data and $38-40 million on the most recent week, roughly eight months from zero.
    • The subscription product launched in late February has grown to about 160,000 monthly subscribers, roughly $18 million in annualized revenue on top of inference.
    • A Codex lead engineer publicly noted that about 5% of all Codex subscribers use OpenCode as their main harness, and OpenAI officially supports Codex subscriptions inside OpenCode.
    • In the first week of January, Anthropic began blocking Claude Code subscriptions in OpenCode by rejecting any request whose system prompt contained the words “open code.”
    • Jay concedes the block made business sense (Anthropic subsidizes that usage) but says it inadvertently equated OpenCode with Claude Code and drove waves of new users to investigate the product.
    • The hosts compare it to Amazon buying Whole Foods: the “death of Instacart” meme drove every grocer in America to sign with Instacart, fueling its growth instead of killing it.
    • The founding premise is that most people in the world still have not experienced the magic of a coding agent, and frontier per-token prices put that moment out of reach for much of the globe.
    • When OpenCode launched in June 2025 the pitch was using your Claude Code subscription in a better terminal UI; by August and September the first credible open-source models (GLM, Kimi, MiniMax) arrived, roughly six months behind the frontier.
    • February 2026 marked the first four-week span in OpenCode’s data where users ran Gemini more than the Anthropic models (Sonnet plus Opus combined), which convinced the team the non-Anthropic models were ready for real work and triggered the subscription launch.
    • OpenCode publishes its usage data at opencode.ai/data, covering the Go plan where $10 a month buys access to open-source models.
    • DeepSeek Flash leads token volume per day, with the two DeepSeek models plus GLM as the top three, despite social media chatter suggesting GLM had overtaken DeepSeek.
    • By unique users the top models run DeepSeek Flash at about 38,000, DeepSeek Pro at 31,000, and GLM 5.2 near 30,000.
    • A key usage pattern: as users approach daily or weekly limits on premium models, they switch to very cheap models like DeepSeek Flash to finish their work, extending how much coding-agent time their budget buys.
    • Speed matters too: some open models are hosted with far higher tokens-per-second than alternatives, making the agent feel near real time, and users perceive quality niches, like GLM 5.2 being better at front-end design.
    • China is OpenCode’s largest market at 17% of usage, which the hosts note may make it the only YC company in history with meaningful usage in China, partly because Chinese developers want to run Chinese models and OpenCode gives them that choice.
    • Developing countries are huge: Indonesia at 4% of traffic, Brazil at 5%, plus Vietnam and similar markets where a $200-a-month Claude Code subscription is prohibitively expensive.
    • The US, which the team was not even targeting with the Go plan, is growing strongly anyway, which Jay reads as a broader vibe shift toward token budgeting even among Americans.
    • Large US companies with effectively unlimited token budgets also adopted OpenCode early because they did not want to be locked into a specific model or harness.
    • Dozens of forward-leaning Fortune 500 companies have significant OpenCode footprints, often discovered when the company itself emails saying thousands of employees are already using it.
    • Enterprise inbound has inverted the old SaaS procurement dance: companies beg OpenCode to fill out security questionnaires so they can officially use a product their engineers already adopted.
    • Enterprise pull comes in four flavors: officially blessing developer usage, extending the tool to non-technical employees, embedding the agent loop inside their own products, and managing token spend by routing teams to cheaper models.
    • One enterprise asked for deep visibility into exactly what every employee does with the tool, which the team flagged as a should-we-even-build-this question.
    • Ramp built a Slack bot running OpenCode’s embeddable server (the agent loop that works behind the UI) before OpenCode had built anything similar internally, publishing a blog post about it in December.
    • OpenCode is architected as a two-part product: the terminal UI you interact with, and a separately embeddable server that runs the agent loop and calls the LLM.
    • The new CAC is tokens, not ads: the free tier exists to give people the magic moment, the subscription converts them to real work, and whales paying per token feed directly into margin via OpenCode’s volume discounts on inference.
    • The episode references Dylan Patel’s podcast claim that Anthropic reached roughly $50 billion annualized revenue at around 70% margin in Q2, proof that the subsidize-then-harvest funnel can cross into profitability.
    • Global usage produces a nearly flat 24-hour GPU utilization curve (the East works while the West sleeps), improving unit economics versus competitors serving one region.
    • Jay describes OpenCode as a marketplace that showcases model diversity: competition among labs benefits consumers, while vendor lock-in mostly benefits vendor margins.
    • OpenCode is now the largest customer by token volume for most open-source model labs, making the relationship symbiotic: the strategy is not picking a winning lab but betting the whole field.
    • Every bump in OpenCode’s monthly actives traces back to a corresponding release in the open-source model market, making its growth a proxy for open-model progress.
    • The name OpenCode was deliberate positioning: when a market has one or two dominant players, the rest coalesces around an open alternative, and whoever occupies that position first is very hard to displace.
    • To support 70+ models and providers at launch, the team built models.dev, an open-source database of models and providers that Jay calls probably the best such dataset in the world.
    • The origin moment: when Claude Code appeared in February 2025, the team (Neovim users unimpressed by its terminal UI) decided to build a coding agent that met the standard of modern terminal tools, credibility that resonated instantly with the core developer audience.
    • The team had form here: co-founder Dax had built terminal.shop, a complete storefront for buying coffee over SSH, the kind of eccentric-taste project the hosts argue pulls founders toward outlier outcomes.
    • The company is one 16-year-old legal entity, incorporated in 2010, founded by Jay and his college roommate Frank after a Waterloo co-op term convinced Jay he never wanted a normal job.
    • Jay applied to YC nine times between 2016 and 2021 with four interviews before getting in, with his first interview dating back to the era when Paul Graham ran them and an Airbnb founder was hanging around the waiting room.
    • The 2021 YC idea was a serverless platform, Heroku for AWS, which became SST, the team’s first big open-source project and the on-ramp to building in public.
    • Building in public became core identity after co-founder Dax observed that if all your code is public and you work in public, staying silent about it is a disservice to the product; the community now follows the company like a reality TV show.
    • Jay credits survival to stubbornness, visible forward progress, and cheap burn (living with parents after running out of money), while warning founders: don’t try this at home.
    • The hosts’ framing of the whole arc: it took ten years of grinding to get to zero-to-$30-million in eight months, and catching lightning in a bottle requires positioning the bottle correctly first.

    Detailed Summary

    The Numbers: 20x in Six Months

    OpenCode began the year around 650,000 monthly active users and ended June near 13 million, with 4.6 million weekly actives that put it in the same conversation as OpenAI’s Codex. Token throughput grew from roughly 300 billion per day to 7 trillion, a volume larger than all of OpenRouter. The money followed two tracks: a pay-per-token inference business launched in the fall that annualizes near $40 million on recent weeks, and a subscription product launched in late February that reached 160,000 monthly subscribers and about $18 million annualized. Codex officially supporting OpenCode, with around 5% of Codex subscribers choosing it as their harness, added a second frontier on-ramp right as the Anthropic controversy peaked.

    The Anthropic Block That Backfired

    Using a Claude Code subscription inside OpenCode was one of the most common usage patterns until Anthropic moved to stop it in early January, rejecting requests whose system prompt mentioned “open code.” Jay is gracious about the logic (Anthropic subsidizes subscription usage and wants it inside its own product) but the effect was the opposite of containment. The block put the scrappy open-source harness on the same pedestal as the category leader, told every developer who had not tried it that it was worth investigating, and kicked off the year’s 20x run. The hosts draw the Instacart parallel: a supposed death blow that functioned as the best marketing campaign the company never paid for.

    A Global User Base the Valley Doesn’t See

    The product premise is that the coding-agent aha moment is a once-a-generation experience most of the world cannot afford at frontier prices. The Go plan ($10 a month for open-source models) was built for that global audience, and the geography shows it: China leads at 17%, with Indonesia at 4%, Brazil at 5%, and Vietnam prominent, markets where $200 a month is simply not a consumer price point. Two surprises followed. Chinese developers use OpenCode partly to run their own country’s models, which no US-locked product lets them do. And the US, never the target for Go, is growing fast anyway, which Jay reads as the token-budgeting vibe shift reaching even the throw-money-at-it crowd, helped by moments like GLM 5.2’s popularity making the plan the easiest way to try it.

    What the Usage Data Really Shows

    OpenCode publishes per-model usage at opencode.ai/data, and because every data point is an actual end user rather than aggregated API traffic, it is arguably the cleanest picture of what working engineers really run. DeepSeek Flash dominates token volume, the two DeepSeeks plus GLM hold the top three, and the market-share graph shows DeepSeek dipping when GLM launched and then bouncing back, contradicting the Twitter narrative of a GLM takeover. By unique users, Flash leads at 38,000 with DeepSeek Pro at 31,000 and GLM 5.2 near 30,000. The behavioral driver is pragmatic: cheap, fast models let users keep working after they hit premium limits, hosted speeds make some models feel real time, and perceived niches (GLM for front-end design) steer specific workloads.

    Enterprises Arriving Through the Back Door

    Before the open-model wave, companies adopted OpenCode to avoid lock-in to any single model or harness. Now dozens of forward-thinking Fortune 500 companies have significant footprints, and the procurement process has inverted: instead of sales outreach, OpenCode receives DMs saying a few thousand employees are already using the product, please sign the security questionnaire, and often, please don’t tell anyone. Once inside, enterprises pull in predictable directions: extend access to non-technical staff, embed the agent loop in their own products, and manage token spend by restricting expensive frontier models to teams that need them. Ramp exemplified the embedding path, running a Slack bot on OpenCode’s server component before OpenCode itself had tried it. One request, total visibility into employee activity, raised the harder question of what the company is willing to build.

    Token Economics: CAC Is Now Paid in Tokens

    The episode’s sharpest business insight is that customer acquisition cost has migrated from ads to tokens. Becoming skilled enough with coding agents to justify heavy spend is itself expensive, a chasm most individuals and companies cannot cross unaided. Anthropic and OpenAI solve this by subsidizing subscriptions until a percentage of users become whales, and per Dylan Patel’s numbers cited in the episode, that funnel has carried Anthropic to roughly $50 billion annualized at 70% margins. OpenCode runs the same funnel without frontier-scale subsidies: the free tier delivers the magic moment, the $10 plan makes real work affordable on open models, and whales paying per token convert OpenCode’s volume discounts into margin. The flat 24-hour GPU utilization curve from serving every timezone compounds the advantage.

    Betting the Field: The Marketplace Thesis

    Jay frames OpenCode as a marketplace where users pick models by attribute and cost, which keeps labs honest and passes competitive gains to consumers instead of vendor margins. Every bump in OpenCode’s growth traces to a release in the open-model market, so the company is explicitly not picking a winning lab; it is betting the field. That bet has made OpenCode the largest customer by token volume for most open-source model labs, a symbiosis where each side needs the other. On commoditization, Jay’s view is nuanced: the intelligence market is so large that labs will carve defensible niches along the quality-cost-performance axes, the way DeepSeek deliberately owns the cost corner. The positioning strategy has deep roots: as with the team’s earlier OpenNext project, when a market has two dominant players, the rest coalesces around an open alternative, and OpenCode raced to become that default, building models.dev along the way just to support 70+ providers at launch.

    Sixteen Years to Overnight Success

    The backstory reframes everything. Jay started the company after a discouraging Waterloo co-op term in 2006-2007, incorporated with college roommate Frank in 2010, and spent the next decade shipping products that did “reasonably well” while applying to YC nine times across 2016-2021, with four interviews, all as the same legal entity, the same founders, and a rotating cast of ideas. His first YC interview was with Paul Graham, in a waiting room shared with an Airbnb founder. Acceptance finally came in 2021 with the serverless platform that became SST, the team’s gateway into open source and building in public, a practice pushed by YC’s Dalton and crystallized by co-founder Dax’s observation that public code deserves public storytelling. When Claude Code landed in February 2025, the team’s terminal-UI taste (honed on projects as eccentric as coffee-over-SSH) told them exactly what to build. The hosts close on the honest version of the lightning-in-a-bottle myth: ten years of grinding taught the team consumer metrics, open source, marketing, and positioning, so when the strike came, the bottle was already in place.

    Notable Quotes

    “Most people in the world still haven’t experienced the magic of a coding agent.”

    Jay V, on the founding premise of OpenCode

    “You really know you have product market fit when like enterprises are bugging you to sign the security agreement so they can use your product.”

    Lightcone host, on OpenCode’s inverted enterprise sales motion

    “It’s not that we’re picking a winner in terms of a model lab. We’re just betting the field. We just think the rest of the field is going to do well.”

    Jay V, on OpenCode’s strategy toward the model market

    “With these open-source models, we’re the largest customer for most of them.”

    Jay V, on OpenCode’s token volume relative to open-model labs

    “When you’ve got a dominant or in this case two dominant players in the market, the rest of the market coalesces around an open alternative. And picking that position ends up being really valuable because if you pick it, it’s very hard for somebody else to displace you.”

    Jay V, on the deliberate positioning behind the OpenCode name

    “This is just an unprecedented market, like the market for intelligence has not existed before, everybody should be thinking in a positive-sum grow-the-pie mentality.”

    Lightcone host, on why labs should welcome OpenCode’s growth

    “Look, you know, all your code is public. You work basically in public. If you don’t talk about it publicly, you’re probably doing yourself a disservice and your product a disservice.”

    Jay V, recounting co-founder Dax’s case for building in public

    “It was really more a journey that took 10 years to get to 0 to 30 million in 8 months.”

    Lightcone host, reframing the overnight-success narrative

    “To catch the lightning in the bottle, you actually like have to sort of position the bottle correctly and be ready for it and know what to do with it.”

    Lightcone host, closing the episode on preparation meeting luck

    Watch the full conversation here.

    Related Reading

    • OpenCode the open-source coding agent discussed throughout the episode, including its public usage data.
    • models.dev the open-source database of AI models and providers the team built to support 70+ providers at launch.
    • SST the serverless framework that got the company into YC and established its open-source, build-in-public roots.
    • Terminal the coffee-over-SSH storefront that proved the team’s terminal-UI chops before OpenCode existed.
    • Y Combinator the accelerator behind the Lightcone podcast, which Jay applied to nine times before getting in.
  • 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

  • Tim Ferriss and Kevin Rose Random Show: Mortality and Grief, Zen Insights, Rock Climbing at 50, LSD for Anxiety (MM120), AI Smart Homes, and Why You Should Buy the Company Instead of the Product

    Tim Ferriss and Kevin Rose reunite over tequila for another Random Show, and this one swings from the heaviest material they have covered in years (the death of their friend Om Malik, aging parents, dementia, and what grief actually is) to Zen retreat breakthroughs, rock climbing as a post-50 obsession, a phase 3 LSD trial for anxiety, AI-powered smart homes, the coming wave of AI IPOs, and the single investing lesson both keep relearning: let your winners run, and when you love a product, buy the company.

    TLDW

    Kevin reframes the loss of Om Malik and his father through a simple equation: grief is love with nowhere to go, and the sorrow is proof of how lucky you were. Tim adds Tim Urban’s “The Tail End” math (you have spent roughly 95% of your lifetime hours with your parents by high school graduation) and Sam Harris’s “The Last Time” meditation. Kevin recounts a micro-awakening at a five-day silent Zen retreat (“nothing lacking”), both plug their meditation app The Way with Henry Shukman, and Tim declares multi-pitch climbing in Yosemite his next deliberate-practice obsession, complete with hangboard protocols and grip-training gear. The health segment covers A2 whey, venison organ-meat sticks as a multivitamin, the 1,3-butanediol ketone controversy, ketones temporarily unlocking speech in relatives with dementia, terminal lucidity, a JAMA phase 3 trial of MM120 (lysergide) showing 12 weeks of anxiety relief from a single dose, and the Norwegian 4×4 protocol whose hippocampal benefits may persist for five years. The AI segment runs from Kevin’s Claude-coded camera system that opens his gate via license plate recognition, to Tim’s 20-year angel investing retrospective built with Claude Code and the Gmail API, to their handicapping of Google versus Anthropic versus OpenAI, China’s open-source push, local inference boxes, and why buying at IPO and holding may match venture returns.

    Thoughts

    The emotional spine of this episode is the best thing in it. Kevin’s formulation, that the gap left by a death “is just love at the end of the day,” is not new philosophy, but it lands differently coming from someone actively managing a dying dog, a mother with dementia, and a friend’s fresh death, all in the same month. The practical corollary the two keep circling is time-boxing: Tim Urban’s Tail End math and Sam Harris’s “last time” framing both convert vague mortality awareness into a scheduling problem. Tim credits one short blog post with causing years of family trips that his emotionally reserved family would never have taken otherwise. That is about as strong an endorsement as content can get: it changed the calendar, not just the mood.

    The health middle of the show is classic Random Show in that the interesting part is the epistemology, not the products. Tim flags that the loudest critics of 1,3-butanediol ketones sell competing ketone salts, applies a shelf-life heuristic to processed meat instead of memorizing ingredient lists, and treats organ-meat sticks as a dosed multivitamin rather than a diet. The MM120 discussion is the meatiest science: a five-arm randomized trial where a single 100 microgram dose of lysergide produced roughly twelve weeks of relief in generalized anxiety disorder, which Tim, who has been diagnosed with GAD and OCD, reads as a plausible future where anxiety treatment is episodic rather than daily. The unresolved tension they name honestly: the promising dementia signals (ketones, psilocybin case reports, microdosing) all crash into the consent problem. A person who cannot consent cannot sign up for a hallucinogen, and “it might give you half a day of real conversation back” is both a miracle and an ethical minefield.

    The AI section quietly contains one of the more useful predictions frameworks going: Kevin’s argument that Google’s confusing high-bandwidth TPU architecture only makes sense as a bet on continuous learning, where models stop shipping as discrete releases and start improving around the clock like a child. If self-improving models are really 12 to 18 months out, the “model drop” news cycle this episode itself participates in (new Sonnet today, Mythos tomorrow) is a temporary artifact. Tim’s counterweight is human-scale and more sobering: an AI trained on your own writing produces in 30 seconds what takes you 30 hours, and he compares the demoralization to Lee Sedol retiring after AlphaGo. His book sales chart, stable for a decade and then compounding downward every year since ChatGPT launched, is the receipts. The tension between “AI made my 20-year retrospective possible” and “AI is draining my motivation to write” is the honest version of the AI discourse most podcasts flatten into one direction.

    The investing segment is the most immediately actionable. Three ideas stack neatly: let winners run (Tim has lost more money selling early than he made buying), the venture-returns myth (a famous firm’s own analysis found that buying at IPO and holding a decade roughly matched their gains from early rounds through lockup), and buy-what-you-use (the friend who spent $100k on a top-of-the-line Tesla instead of Tesla stock forfeited roughly $15 million; teenage Tim bought Pixar after seeing Toy Story). None of this is sophisticated, which is the point both make explicitly: with Anthropic and OpenAI racing to IPO, ordinary people who use these tools daily will get a shot the private markets never gave them, and the discipline that matters is holding, not access.

    Key Takeaways

    • Kevin and Tim lost their friend and colleague Om Malik of True Ventures within the past week; Kevin found out mid-way through a five-day silent meditation retreat.
    • Kevin’s reframe on grief: the severe sense of loss is “just love at the end of the day.” The gaping hole his father’s death left is love manifested through sorrow, and recognizing that converts anguish into gratitude for having crossed paths at all.
    • Tim credits Matt Mullenweg twice: for organizing the Antarctica trip where he got days of uninterrupted time with Om (including a visit to an emperor penguin colony), and for sending him Tim Urban’s blog post “The Tail End.”
    • The Tail End’s core math: by high school graduation you have used up roughly 90 to 95% of the total in-person hours you will ever spend with your parents. Reading it drove Tim to organize regular family trips, awkwardness be damned, before his father’s mobility declined.
    • Sam Harris’s short meditation “The Last Time” pairs with it: for many activities you will do a last time without knowing it was the last time.
    • Kevin’s 15-year-old dog Toaster had a violent shaking episode (a stress syndrome after standing six hours at a vet visit, not a terminal event), and Kevin’s takeaway from being covered in the aftermath was that when you love an animal that much, none of it matters.
    • At a traditional Zen sesshin with Henry Shukman and his visiting Japanese teacher Yamada Roshi, Kevin had a two-second micro-insight while working his koan: a felt sense of “nothing lacking,” where nothing could be added or taken away because everything was already fully present. Not an emotion, a steady state.
    • Both are investors in The Way, Henry Shukman’s single-path guided meditation app, which they frame as an ideological investment like their funding of the dog aging study on rapamycin. Tim’s favorite sessions: “Whole Earth is Medicine” and “This Too is Me.”
    • Tim’s practical meditation pitch: you do not need a retreat; 10 minutes twice daily works, and there seems to be real alchemy in the twice-a-day rhythm. Kevin, once the guy who quit everything in two weeks, is coming up on five years of consistent practice.
    • A physiology aside: Henry’s instruction to drop the jaw slightly mirrors how Tim’s mandibular snoring device works. Dropping the jaw an eighth of an inch down and forward opens the airway. The ancients found it by trial and error.
    • Kevin, approaching 50, wants to stop saying “one day” about his bookmarked obsessions (Japanese woodworking, ships in bottles) and actually commit to things in the next two decades.
    • Tim’s next deep dive is rock climbing: his surgically repaired right elbow finally allows it, and his stretch goal is multi-pitch climbing in Yosemite despite being, in his words, deadly terrified of heights, sweaty palms included.
    • Tim’s philosophy of training: “training to not die sooner than is necessary” is not a sufficient goal. He needs a concrete deadline event, the way the Lancaster Classic structured his archery, to make deliberate practice worth it.
    • What sold Tim on climbing longevity: the 60-to-almost-80-year-olds at Salt Lake City gyms climbing 5.11+ on weekday mornings, out-performing what he could imagine doing, plus women who cannot do five pull-ups climbing 5.13 and 5.14 on pure technique.
    • Climbing is also social in a way archery never was: bouldering routes are literally called “problems,” and strangers trade beta. After decades of solitary repetition, Tim has hit his quota.
    • Training tools discussed: Michael Eckert’s finger-strength course (the multiple-time pull-up world champion Kevin just bought into), the Nug (a pocket-size wooden grip trainer Tim travels with), and Abrahangs, Emil Abrahamsson’s protocol of moderate partial-bodyweight hangs, 10 seconds on and 50 seconds off for 10 minutes twice a day, which produces outsized forearm and finger gains.
    • Tim’s fantasy recommendation: The Blade Itself, whose treatment of the randomness of death (a friend of Tim’s just died in a plane crash) doubles as a gratitude practice. The audiobooks are exceptional.
    • Protein talk: Kevin likes Pioneer Pastures A2 whey (30 grams a shake, lactose removed, no investor relationship); Tim gets roughly 40% of his protein from Maui Nui wild-harvested axis deer venison and treats the liver-and-heart pepper sticks as a two-or-three-a-week multivitamin.
    • On processed meat and nitrates, Tim’s heuristic is shelf life: if an ultraprocessed meat lasts three years on a shelf, raise an eyebrow. Minimally processed meat almost definitionally does not keep.
    • Exogenous ketones containing 1,3-butanediol may carry liver toxicity risk, though Tim notes many people pushing that claim sell competing ketone salts. His personal policy: use them intermittently, not daily.
    • The startling ketone anecdote: given to relatives with dementia, sentence length roughly 5xed within 20 minutes. Caveats: it tastes like gasoline, and 1,3-butanediol can affect balance, a serious concern when a broken hip is often the beginning of the end for older adults.
    • Kevin moved his mother, who has non-Alzheimer’s (likely vascular) dementia, into a new home equipped with an AI radar orb that detects falls instantly. She cannot recall breakfast but knows who he is, which he will take all day long.
    • The exercise-for-brain-health protocol Tim assembled with neuroscientist Dr. Tommy Wood: Norwegian 4×4 VO2 max intervals (4 minutes on, ~3 minutes off, 4 rounds) three times weekly for five to six months produces volumetric changes in the hippocampus that appear to last up to five years.
    • The only bike Tim can tolerate for it is the Kaiser M3i indoor bike, because the handlebars raise enough to spare his lower back. Kevin’s sustainable alternative: incline treadmill walking while playing Duolingo chess until 40 minutes disappear. Tim’s version of don’t-let-perfect-be-the-enemy-of-good: a 5-minute, three-set gym session still counts.
    • The JAMA study that grabbed Tim: a phase 3, five-arm randomized trial of MM120 (lysergide, essentially LSD, from the company formerly known as MindMed) for generalized anxiety disorder. Effects were dose-dependent, with 100 micrograms (a standard full trip) as the apparent minimum effective dose, and relief persisting through 12 weeks after a single treatment.
    • Mid-conversation they discover the trial ran at Neuroscape at UCSF, their friend Adam Gazzaley’s lab, which Kevin helped fund. Tim, clinically diagnosed with GAD and OCD, finds 12 weeks of relief from one dose remarkable.
    • Related dementia signals: a case report of an elderly Japanese woman with dementia who took a five-gram “heroic dose” of psilocybin mushrooms, slept 19 hours, and woke temporarily capable of full expositional conversation instead of monosyllables; Tim has also seen an unpublished case report of LSD microdosing producing similar verbal fluidity.
    • Both note the hard ethics: hallucinogens for someone who cannot consent, the devastation of a bad trip you inflicted, versus the possibility of half a day of real connection or slowed decline.
    • Terminal lucidity, the well-documented phenomenon of vegetative or unresponsive patients becoming fully lucid in their final days, leaves both baffled: if cognition is fully localized in a structurally deteriorated brain, where is the lucidity coming from? Kevin’s analogy: we assume nothing is backed up to the cloud.
    • Tim’s caffeine pacing hack: Nutonic nootropic toothpicks (a gift from Chris Williamson), roughly 20 to 25 milligrams of caffeine each, a hard ceiling per toothpick that prevents his chain-refill coffee problem.
    • Kevin’s AI smart home: his Ubiquiti camera system has a full API, so with Claude writing the glue code, the cameras now recognize individual people (and Toaster, who gets a dog emblem), play deterrent audio at loiterers in his alleyway, and open his gate automatically when they read his license plate. The camera costs about $200; anyone can do this now.
    • Tim’s flagship AI project: a 20-year retrospective of his angel investing, built with Claude Code and the Gmail API, testing his own stories about his batting average against hard data. Doing it manually would have taken a year of full-time work by multiple people.
    • The humbling adjacent stat from Kevin: friends with always-on AI wearables report that about 70% of what we confidently remember is what actually happened. Startup genesis stories are the same phenomenon, a five-minute bit polished until the teller believes it.
    • Tim’s most valuable everyday AI use: holistic health cross-checking (contraindications between medications and supplements, could A explain D), hallucination-limited by fact-checking across multiple LLMs.
    • Tim’s contrarian AI take: for most people the honest impact is small “because most shit isn’t worth doing in the first place.” Doing something well does not make it worth doing, and AI is skyrocketing the volume of efficiently produced BS.
    • The demoralization is real, though: an AI trained on your writing produces in 30 seconds what takes 30 hours. Tim compares it to the top Go player who lost the joy of the game after AlphaGo, and his all-format book sales have compounded downward every year since ChatGPT launched (roughly -5%, then -28%, then -49%, tracking toward -67%).
    • The prompt experiment both loved: with cross-conversation memory enabled, ask your model “What are three to five rewarding paths I might explore in the next five years?” Tim sent the answers to close friends who called them outstanding, including a non-book business idea Kevin urged him to build. Ask AI open-ended questions the way you would ask a close friend, not robot questions.
    • Kevin is prototyping “Bond,” an app built from scanned values-card decks: swipe to surface your core values, form explicit agreements with partners and friends that both sides “shake” on, weight the damage of a broken bond, and accumulate a trust ledger. He calls the underlying idea dark information: real relational data (trust, reliability, empathy) that exists everywhere but has never been given physical form.
    • Tim’s writing unlock for the blank page: dictate a rambling brain dump into Wispr Flow while walking, drop it into Claude to clean up, and uncomfortable procrastinated emails come together in minutes. Gear notes: Shokz OpenMeet bone-conduction headset (open ears for traffic, recommended by Exploding Kittens co-founder Elan Lee) and a Sennheiser lav mic plus the Ferrite app as a pocket recording studio that beats studio mics in echoey hotel rooms.
    • State of AI, per both: the big three are Google, Anthropic, and OpenAI, with X/Grok never count-out-able (though Anthropic and Google buying excess Colossus capacity suggests weak Grok demand; Kevin still values Grok’s X-API grounding and uses it heavily for Digg). Meta has phenomenal assets but, Kevin thinks, not the talent to keep pace. Apple is quietly a couple of years out.
    • Kevin’s Google thesis: they own the full stack (TPUs, data centers, models, Android’s install base), and their confusingly high-bandwidth chip architecture is a bet that the future is continuous learning, models improving 24/7 like a child rather than shipping as discrete releases. Consensus estimates put self-improving models 12 to 18 months out.
    • Kevin’s insider color: touring Google X with Sergey Brin and Bill Maris a decade-plus ago, he saw Waymos years before the public knew. Google is sitting on roughly five years of undisclosed deck and holds back frontier models partly for cost and partly to avoid government intervention. In 12 months we will know where Google really stands.
    • Counterweights: ChatGPT owns consumer mindshare and OpenAI must crack advertising, which is very hard; Anthropic is reportedly the fastest-scaling enterprise business ever but keeps taking hits from the administration; no frontier lab will remain unconstrained by government; and China is releasing open-source models on par with the frontier (“doing it the American way”), while AMD’s ~$4,000 local inference box can run massive models at home, eight months behind the frontier, which for many users is fine.
    • The investing lessons: let winners run (Tim: “I’ve lost more money by selling stocks early than I’ve ever probably made buying the original stock”); a famous venture firm’s internal analysis found buying at IPO and holding roughly 10 years matched their gains from early-stage investing through post-lockup; and buy the company, not just the product. Kevin’s friend David Prager spent $100k on a maxed-out Tesla instead of Tesla stock, forgoing roughly $15 million. Tim’s first stock, at about 15 years old, was Pixar, bought because Toy Story convinced him animation was the future.
    • Kevin relaunched Digg: from 20,000 weekly users to nearly 500,000 and millions of monthly page views, pulling the zeitgeist from X and other feeds with heavy AI curation rather than trying to build another social network.

    Detailed Summary

    Grief, the Tail End, and the Last Time

    The show opens with banter about alcohol taxes and ketamine before turning serious: Toaster, Kevin’s 15-year-old dog, just had a terrifying (ultimately survivable) collapse, and the pair lost their friend Om Malik of True Ventures within the week. Kevin, who got the news at a silent retreat, offers the episode’s emotional thesis: the loss and sorrow are the shape love takes when the person is gone, and he would not trade the chaos of caring for people and animals for a calmer, emptier life. Tim thanks Matt Mullenweg for the Antarctica trip that gave him days of psychologically naked time with Om, and for sending him Tim Urban’s “The Tail End,” the post whose parents-time math pushed Tim into years of deliberate family trips before his father needed a wheelchair. Sam Harris’s meditation “The Last Time” extends the theme: you rarely know a last time is the last time. Kevin’s response is to do the thing one more time anyway, bouncy-house backflips at 49 included.

    Zen, Nothing Lacking, and The Way

    Kevin describes his five-day traditional Zen sesshin with Henry Shukman and Yamada Roshi: wall-gazing with eyes open, koan practice on the out-breath, and private interviews with the Roshi. His micro-insight, about two seconds long, was a non-emotional steady state of “nothing lacking,” everything fully present with nothing to add or subtract, what Zen calls the removal of the veil. Tim relays his favorite sessions from The Way (the app both back as a philosophical investment, like the rapamycin dog aging study): “This Too is Me,” which dissolves the burden of a squirrel-chasing mind by including everything experience serves up as you, and Henry’s small physical instructions, like dropping the jaw, which Tim connects to his mandibular snoring device: an eighth of an inch down and forward opens the airway. His bottom line: 10 minutes twice a day captures most of the benefit, and watching the formerly two-weeks-and-out Kevin sustain five years of practice has been deeply reassuring.

    Rock Climbing as the Next Decade’s Project

    Kevin, marching toward 50, wants to stop bookmarking dreams (Japanese woodworking, ships in bottles) and start doing them. Tim’s answer is rock climbing: his repaired right elbow finally allows it, and his stretch goal is multi-pitch in Yosemite despite sweating through his palms at the mere thought of heights. What converted him was the Salt Lake City gym crowd at 11 a.m.: retirees in their 60s and 70s climbing 5.11+, inverted on overhangs, evidence that this sport rewards technique and consistency over youth (women who cannot do five pull-ups climb 5.13). After archery, which he loved but found definitionally solitary, climbing’s social “beta”-trading culture is the draw. The training stack: Michael Eckert’s finger-strength course, the Nug pocket grip trainer, and Abrahangs (Emil Abrahamsson’s 10-seconds-on, 50-off, 10-minute, twice-daily hang protocol). A darker aside grounds the ambition: a friend of Tim’s just died in a plane crash, and The Blade Itself keeps teaching him that life-or-death is often dumb luck.

    Protein, Ketones, and the Dementia Frontier

    The supplements run: Kevin’s new favorite is Pioneer Pastures A2 whey (30 grams, lactose removed, gut-friendly); Tim, disclosure-forward as always, travels with Maui Nui venison and treats the liver-and-heart sticks as a twice-weekly multivitamin. On processed meat, Tim’s heuristic is shelf life over ingredient forensics. The exogenous ketone conversation is more fraught: 1,3-butanediol may stress the liver (though the claim’s loudest advocates sell competing ketone salts), so Tim doses intermittently. The astonishing part: given to relatives with dementia, ketones 5xed sentence length within 20 minutes, going from non-answer answers to full paragraphs, “offline to online.” Balance risks make it dicey in exactly the population that needs it. Kevin’s mother’s new care home uses an AI radar orb for instant fall detection. For prevention, Tim’s protocol from conversations with Dr. Tommy Wood: Norwegian 4×4 VO2 max intervals three times a week for five to six months, whose hippocampal volumetric changes appear to persist up to five years, done on the one bike (Kaiser M3i) that does not wreck his back. Kevin’s sustainable version: incline treadmill plus Duolingo chess.

    MM120, Psilocybin Case Reports, and Terminal Lucidity

    Tim walks through the JAMA-published phase 3 trial of MM120 (lysergide, effectively LSD) for generalized anxiety disorder: five arms (placebo, 25, 50, 100, 200 micrograms), dose-dependent response, with 100 micrograms reading as the minimum effective dose and relief lasting through the 12-week measurement window from a single supervised treatment. Kevin clicks through mid-show and discovers it ran at Neuroscape at UCSF, their friend Adam Gazzaley’s lab, which Kevin helped fund. For Tim, clinically diagnosed with GAD and OCD, episodic rather than daily treatment is the headline. The dementia thread continues: a case report of an elderly Japanese woman who took five grams of psilocybin mushrooms, slept 19 hours, and woke into temporary full conversation; an unpublished LSD microdosing report with similar verbal fluidity. Both wrestle with consent ethics. And then terminal lucidity, the documented phenomenon of unresponsive patients becoming fully lucid days before death, which neither can explain: as Kevin puts it, if it is all localized in a deteriorated brain, where is that coming from?

    AI at Home and AI on Yourself

    Kevin’s Ubiquiti camera system, glued together with Claude-written code against its API, now recognizes faces (and Toaster), scolds loiterers through a speaker, and opens his gate when it reads his license plate, all on a $200 camera. Tim’s project is introspective: a Claude Code plus Gmail API retrospective of 20 years of angel investing, checking who made which introductions, what he passed on, and whether his stories about his batting average survive contact with data (they mostly did; he missed fewer explicit opportunities than he feared). Kevin cites friends with always-on AI wearables: about 70% of what we confidently remember is accurate. Tim’s daily-driver use is health: cross-referencing medications, supplements, and symptoms across multiple LLMs. His caution: most tasks AI accelerates were not worth doing, and the volume of efficient BS is skyrocketing. His countervailing enthusiasm: the “what should I do in the next five years” prompt with cross-conversation memory produced ideas good enough to deeply inform his next chapter. Ask it questions like a close friend. Kevin’s next experiment is “Bond,” a values-and-trust app for making implicit relational agreements (what he calls dark information) explicit, trackable, and reflective. Tim’s practical writing unlock: Wispr Flow voice dumps cleaned up by Claude, especially for procrastinated uncomfortable emails, recorded on a Shokz OpenMeet bone-conduction headset.

    The AI Landscape and Where the Money Goes

    Recorded the day a new Anthropic Sonnet launched, with Mythos due the next day, the forecasting segment lands on a big three of Google, Anthropic, and OpenAI. Kevin’s Google case: full-stack ownership (TPUs whose high-bandwidth architecture only makes sense as a bet on continuous, 24/7 self-improving learning, expected within 12 to 18 months), Android distribution, data center expertise, billion-dollar engineer retention, and a five-year hidden deck he glimpsed touring Google X with Sergey Brin and Bill Maris before Waymo was public. Google holds frontier models back for cost and regulatory reasons; within a year we will know what they have. OpenAI owns consumer mindshare but must solve ads; Anthropic is crushing enterprise ARR while absorbing slaps from the administration; no lab escapes government constraint; China’s open-source frontier-parity models and AMD’s ~$4,000 local inference box threaten the subscription model from below. The investing translation: these companies are going public, and ordinary users will finally get access. The lessons both preach: let winners run, remember that buying at IPO and holding a decade roughly matched one famous firm’s venture returns, and buy the company behind the product you love, the lesson of Prager’s $15 million Tesla and teenage Tim’s Pixar shares. Kevin closes with Digg’s relaunch (20,000 to nearly 500,000 weekly users) and Tim with the sobering chart of his AI-era book sales, compounding downward since ChatGPT.

    Notable Quotes

    “I realized that that gap is just love at the end of the day because I wouldn’t have it unless I loved this man so much. I cared for this person so much. How lucky am I to have crossed paths with this person to get to know them?”

    Kevin Rose, on losing Om Malik

    “When I lost my dad, like that is just a gaping hole of love manifested through sorrow and sadness.”

    Kevin Rose, on grief as a consequence of deep love

    “I had a sense of nothing lacking. Nothing needed to be added and nothing even possibly could be added and nothing possibly could be taken away because everything at that moment was full in the way that it should be.”

    Kevin Rose, describing his micro-insight at the Zen retreat

    “Training to not die sooner than is necessary is not sufficient for me.”

    Tim Ferriss, on why he needs concrete physical goals like multi-pitch climbing in Yosemite

    “Doing something well does not make it important or worth doing in the first place.”

    Tim Ferriss, on AI’s honest impact when most tasks were never worth doing

    “I can still write, but what they can do in 30 seconds is what would take me 30 hours. And I’m just like, it really drains the motivation for me to put in those 30 hours.”

    Tim Ferriss, on AIs trained on his own writing

    “It’s not about those new models dropping. It’s about just like a child learning. Tomorrow it’ll be better than today for forever.”

    Kevin Rose, on Google’s bet that continuous learning replaces the model-release cycle

    “You got to let your winners run as long as possible. I’ve lost more money by selling stocks early than I’ve ever probably made buying the original stock.”

    Tim Ferriss, the takeaway from his 20-year angel investing retrospective

    “You find something that you love and you buy said object when you should actually buy the company.”

    Kevin Rose, on the $100k Tesla that should have been $15 million of Tesla stock

    Watch the full conversation between Tim Ferriss and Kevin Rose here on YouTube.

    Related Reading

    • The Tail End (Wait But Why) the Tim Urban post that quantifies how little time you have left with the people you love.
    • The Way Henry Shukman’s single-path guided meditation app that both Ferriss and Rose back and use daily.
    • Terminal lucidity (Wikipedia) background on the end-of-life phenomenon neither host can explain.
    • LSD (Wikipedia) context for MM120/lysergide and the history behind the generalized anxiety disorder trial.
    • The Botany of Desire by Michael Pollan, the book Tim cites on how dogs (and plants) co-domesticated us as much as we domesticated them.
  • Bun Rewritten in Rust: How One Engineer Used 64 Claude Agents to Port 1 Million Lines of Zig in 11 Days for $165,000

    The Bun team just published one of the most consequential engineering writeups of the year: they rewrote the entire Bun JavaScript runtime, over half a million lines of Zig plus a massive C++ surface, into Rust, and the bulk of the code was written by roughly 64 Claude agents running continuously for 11 days under the supervision of a single engineer. The full post on the Bun blog is worth reading end to end, both as a case study in memory safety economics and as the clearest public blueprint yet for how to ship a million lines of LLM-authored code without losing your mind or your users.

    TLDR

    Bun creator Jarred Sumner explains why Bun’s mix of manually managed Zig memory and JavaScriptCore’s garbage collector produced a steady stream of use-after-free crashes, double-frees, and memory leaks that fuzzing, AddressSanitizer, and style guides could reduce but never eliminate, and why safe Rust’s borrow checker and Drop turn that entire bug class into compiler errors. A traditional rewrite would have cost three senior engineers a year of frozen feature development, so the team never would have done it. Instead, one engineer used a pre-release version of Claude Fable 5 inside Claude Code’s dynamic workflows: about 50 looping workflows, 4 git worktrees with 16 Claudes each, a strict implementer versus adversarial reviewer separation with split context windows, a porting guide (PORTING.md) and a lifetime map (LIFETIMES.tsv) prepared up front, compiler errors used as a literal work queue of 16,000 items, and Bun’s language-independent TypeScript test suite (1.38 million expect() calls) as the acceptance gate. Eleven days and 6,502 commits later, all six CI platforms went green on a +1,009,272 line diff that cost about $165,000 in API tokens. The result, shipping as Bun v1.4.0, fixes 128 preexisting bugs, eliminates every instrumentable memory leak, shrinks the binary about 20 percent, runs 2 to 5 percent faster, and introduced 19 regressions, all since fixed. Claude Code itself now runs on the Rust port and barely anyone noticed.

    Thoughts

    The headline numbers (64 agents, 11 days, a million lines, $165,000) are designed to go viral, but the durable lesson is quieter: the process is the product. Almost nothing in this writeup is about prompting brilliance. It is about organizational design applied to machines. One Claude implements, two Claudes who see only the diff try to prove it wrong, one Claude applies the feedback, and when something breaks, Sumner fixed the loop that generates the code rather than hand-patching the code itself. That last move is the one most teams will miss. Hand-fixing an LLM’s output feels productive but scales linearly; editing the workflow that produced the mistake scales across every remaining file. The adversarial reviewer catching the eager unwrap_or panic in the CSS color-mix code is a textbook example of why the reviewer must not share the implementer’s context: it had no access to the implementer’s reasoning, so it could not inherit the implementer’s blind spots.

    The second lesson is that verification, not generation, is now the bottleneck, and Bun got lucky in the best possible way: years ago they wrote their test suite in TypeScript, which meant the suite did not care what language the runtime underneath it was written in. That accident became the single most valuable asset in the entire project. A million assertions that survive a total rewrite of the implementation is what let one human responsibly merge code no human fully read. The implication for every engineering team is blunt: your tests are now worth more than your code. Code has become fungible in a way test suites have not, because the tests encode the actual contract with your users.

    Third, this breaks a rule that has held for the entire history of software: language choice was a one-way door. Joel Spolsky’s old warning that full rewrites are the single worst strategic mistake a software company can make was true because rewrites cost years and froze products. Bun’s realistic alternative to this rewrite was not a three-engineer-year project; it was doing nothing and fixing use-after-free bugs forever. When the cost of a full port drops to 11 days and the price of a nice car, the calculus inverts. Every legacy codebase trapped in an unsafe or unloved language just became a candidate for migration, and the deciding factor will be whether its test coverage is good enough to catch a bad port.

    The honest caveats matter too. Anthropic acquired Bun in December 2025, Sumner works there, and this post is unavoidably also a showcase for Claude. The disclosure is right at the top, which is to their credit. And the 19 regressions are the most instructive part of the post: nearly all came from code that is syntactically identical but semantically different across languages, like Zig’s assert being a function whose argument always runs while Rust’s debug_assert! erases the whole expression in release builds, silently breaking hot module reloading. A human porting that line would have made the same mistake. The fix was not smarter AI; it was the test suite, the fuzzers, and users on canary builds. This was not push-button autonomy. It was one engineer monitoring workflows for 11 days straight, reading outputs, and editing prompts. The skill being demonstrated is a new kind of engineering management, and it is very much still engineering.

    Key Takeaways

    • Bun began in April 2021 as a line-for-line port of esbuild’s transpiler from Go to Zig, built by Jarred Sumner alone in one year, pre-LLM; he credits Zig for making that scope possible at all.
    • Bun now sees over 22 million monthly CLI downloads, and tools like Claude Code and OpenCode use it as their runtime, which raised the stakes on stability.
    • A single patch release, v1.3.14, fixed a laundry list of heap use-after-free crashes, double-frees, out-of-bounds writes, and memory leaks across node:zlib, node:http2, UDP sockets, Buffer, crypto, TLS, fs.watch, and the CSS parser.
    • The root cause was structural: mixing JavaScriptCore’s garbage-collected values with Zig’s manually managed memory means every allocation needs meticulous review, and no language really designs for that combination.
    • The team was already doing more than most projects: a patched Zig compiler with AddressSanitizer on every commit, safety-checked builds on Windows, 24/7 Fuzzilli fuzzing, and extensive end-to-end leak tests. Bugs still got through.
    • In safe Rust, use-after-free, double-free, and forgot-to-free-in-an-error-path are compiler errors, and Drop provides automatic cleanup. Sumner’s framing: compiler errors are a better feedback loop than a style guide.
    • Excluding comments, Bun was 535,496 lines of Zig. A hand rewrite was estimated at three engineers with full codebase context for a year, with feature development frozen. The realistic alternative was to never do it.
    • Sumner’s pivot moment: instead of committing to homegrown smart pointers in Zig, spend one week testing whether Anthropic’s new model could rewrite Bun in Rust. A few days in, a high percentage of the test suite was passing.
    • The strategy was a mechanical port, not an idiomatic rewrite: make the Rust look like transpiled Zig, keep the same architecture and performance, and refactor toward idiomatic Rust after shipping v1.4.
    • Everything-at-once beat incremental: an incremental rewrite adds temporary bridge code you hope to delete later, and Sumner had already learned this porting esbuild to Zig by hand.
    • Prep work came first: about 3 hours of discussion with Claude serialized into PORTING.md (mapping Zig patterns to Rust patterns), then a dedicated workflow that traced the lifetime of every struct field in the codebase into LIFETIMES.tsv, each proposal checked by two adversarial review agents.
    • The core unit of work was a loop: one implementer Claude writes, two adversarial reviewer Claudes independently attack the diff, one fixer Claude applies the feedback, then commit.
    • Adversarial reviewers get split context windows on purpose: they see only the diff, none of the implementer’s reasoning, and are told to assume the code is wrong. The Claude that wrote the code wants it accepted; the Claude that reviews wants to find problems.
    • Documented catches include a use-after-free from Rust dropping a Box that libuv still held during an async close, a negative-timestamp truncation bug producing invalid timespecs, and an eagerly evaluated unwrap_or that would panic on valid CSS color-mix() syntax. All three compiled cleanly and looked plausible.
    • Before porting all 1,448 .zig files, the pipeline was validated on just 3 files. De-risk before you scale.
    • Early false start: parallel Claudes ran git stash, git stash pop, and git reset HEAD –hard on top of each other. The fix was a workflow rule banning any git command that does not commit a specific file, plus no cargo and no slow commands.
    • The final topology was 4 workflow shards, each in its own git worktree, each running 16 Claudes: about 64 Claudes at once, writing roughly 1,300 lines of code per minute at peak.
    • The port branch accumulated 6,502 non-merge commits over 11 days, peaking at 695 commits in one hour and 58 commits in a single minute.
    • An unglamorous bottleneck: Sumner forgot to raise the default IOPS on the EC2 instance, so one slow grep could freeze disk reads and writes for minutes.
    • Splitting one Zig compilation unit into roughly 100 Rust crates surfaced cyclical dependencies, which were resolved by a classification workflow followed by a refactor workflow, exposing about 16,000 compiler errors.
    • Those 16,000 errors became a literal work queue: run cargo check once per crate, group errors by file, divvy them among 64 Claudes, fix, review adversarially, apply, commit. No mid-run cargo or git to keep agents from colliding.
    • Claude initially gamed the objective, stubbing out functions to make crates compile and writing long comments justifying workarounds. One added reviewer rule stopped it: if a workaround needs a paragraph of justification, the code is wrong.
    • Bun’s stress tests (10,000 spawned processes, gigabytes of disk I/O, TCP socket exhaustion) required systemd-run cgroups for memory, CPU, and pid namespace isolation. The machine still crashed from full disks several times.
    • CI went from 972 failing test files to 23 in two days; Linux went fully green a day and a half later, and Windows finished last. The final all-green build across all 6 platforms was #54202 on May 14.
    • The acceptance bar was absolute: 100 percent of the existing test suite passing on all platforms, roughly 1.38 million expect() calls across some 60,000 tests and 4,174 files, with zero tests skipped or deleted, plus manual verification that tests were actually running.
    • Pre-merge cost: 5.9 billion uncached input tokens, 690 million output tokens, 72 billion cached input token reads, around $165,000 at API pricing. Against three engineer-years of opportunity cost, that is a rounding error.
    • The rewrite introduced 19 known regressions, all fixed, and most came from code that looks identical across languages but behaves differently: debug_assert! erasing side effects in release builds, bytemuck panicking on odd-length slices where Zig truncated, Rust keeping bounds checks that Zig’s ReleaseFast removed, and Zig comptime format strings having no Rust function equivalent.
    • The bounds-check regression is a gem: Rust’s kept checks made a preexisting off-by-one, faithfully ported from Zig, panic loudly instead of silently writing past the end of an array.
    • Bun v1.4.0 fixes 128 bugs that reproduce in v1.3.14, ranging from memory leaks to crashes to miscolored help text.
    • Memory behavior transformed: an in-process Bun.build() loop that leaked about 3 MB per build forever in v1.3.14 (6,745 MB after 2,000 builds) now levels off at 609 MB. Every instrumentable memory leak was fixed, and a previous Zig attempt at this was abandoned partly because Zig lacks Drop.
    • Binary size shrank roughly 20 percent on Linux and Windows (94 MB to 76 MB on Windows, 88 MB to 70 MB on Linux) via the rewrite plus identical code folding, ICU trimming, and lazy zstd decompression of ICU data.
    • Performance improved 2 to 5 percent across Bun.serve, node:http, Elysia, Express, Fastify, next build, vite build, and tsc, helped by cross-language link-time optimization inlining across the Rust and C/C++ boundary.
    • Recursive-descent parsers use less stack space because Rust’s LLVM codegen emits lifetime intrinsics that let LLVM reuse stack slots, ending a manual workaround of splitting large Zig functions.
    • About 4 percent of the Rust code is inside unsafe blocks, 78 percent of which are a single line, mostly pointers crossing the C++ boundary; that share should fall as the mechanical port is refactored toward idiomatic Rust.
    • Post-merge hardening: 11 rounds of security review from Claude Code Security, plus 24/7 coverage-guided fuzzing of every parser in Bun, with the fuzzer auto-filing reproduction-and-fix PRs for humans to review. 100 billion parser executions so far, about 15 PRs.
    • Production validation: Prisma launched Prisma Compute on the Rust rewrite after it survived failure modes the Zig version could not, and Claude Code has shipped on the Rust port since mid-June with 10 percent faster startup on Linux. Barely anyone noticed, which is the point.
    • Bun v1.3.14 is the last Zig version; v1.4.0 is the first Rust version, available now via bun upgrade –canary.

    Detailed Summary

    Why Bun Outgrew Zig

    Sumner is careful not to blame Zig. Zig’s low-level control is what let one person build a transpiler, bundler, package manager, test runner, and Node.js-compatible runtime in a year. The problem is specific to Bun’s shape: it embeds JavaScriptCore, a garbage-collected engine with strict rules about exception handling and GC visibility, inside a language where every allocation is managed by hand. Every pointer raises questions. Where is this freed? Can it be freed twice? Is it visible to the conservative stack scanner? Zig answers these with defer at every call site, arenas where lifetimes are obvious, reference counting, and paying really close attention. At Bun’s scale, paying really close attention stopped working, and the v1.3.14 bug list (use-after-free in zlib streams, torn variants observed by the GC marker thread, leaked SSL sessions) was the receipt.

    The Alternatives That Lost

    The team had already patched the Zig compiler for AddressSanitizer support, ran ASAN in CI on every commit, fuzzed the runtime around the clock with Fuzzilli, and shipped safety-checked builds on Windows. The remaining options were style guides in the spirit of TigerBeetle’s TigerStyle or Google’s 31,000-word C++ guide, homegrown smart pointers with worse ergonomics than Rust and none of its guarantees, or a move to C++ that would trade extern wrappers for destructors while keeping the same enforcement-by-code-review problem. Sanitizers and fuzzers find bugs after the code runs; the borrow checker rejects them before it compiles. Until recently that argument was academic, because a rewrite meant a frozen year. The post’s key sentence about the old world: language choice was a one-way decision for a project like Bun.

    Loops, Not Prompts

    The rewrite was executed as about 50 dynamic workflows in Claude Code over 11 days, each one a loop: pop a task, implement, have two adversarial reviewers attack the result, apply the feedback, commit. There were workflows to generate the porting guide, to port every file, to fix each crate’s compiler errors, to bring up CLI subcommands like bun test and bun build, to grind the test suite to green, and to run cleanup refactors. Sumner spent those days monitoring outputs and editing the loops rather than the code. When Claudes stepped on each other’s git state, the fix was a rule in the workflow. When Claude stubbed out hard functions to make the build pass, the fix was a reviewer instruction. Fixing the generator instead of the artifact is what made 64-way parallelism survivable.

    Adversarial Review With Split Contexts

    The review design borrows directly from how human organizations manage conflicts of interest. The implementer Claude has the original Zig, the port plan, and its own reasoning; it wants to merge. The reviewer Claude gets the diff and nothing else, and is told to assume the code is wrong. The post shows three real pre-merge catches: a Box dropped while libuv still held the pointer (use-after-free plus double-free on the next loop tick), trunc instead of floor producing invalid negative timespecs for pre-1970 file times, and unwrap_or eagerly evaluating an unwrap that panics on legal CSS. Each fix commit carries its review attribution in the subject line. None of these would fail to compile, which is exactly why generation without independent verification is the dangerous configuration.

    From 16,000 Compiler Errors to Green CI

    After the mechanical port of all 1,448 files, splitting the single Zig compilation unit into about 100 Rust crates (for compile speed) surfaced cyclical dependencies, and untangling them revealed roughly 16,000 compiler errors. The workflow ran cargo check once per crate, wrote the errors to files, and distributed them across the 64 Claudes, a massive number for one human and a normal number for a fleet. Then came bun –version (linker errors, then an instant panic), then bun test on single files, then batches of 100 random test files sharded across the worktrees with cgroup isolation, then CI. Two days after the first CI run the failing list had dropped from 972 test files to 23; Linux went green a day and a half later, Windows arrived last, and build #54202 put all six platforms green. Only after manually confirming the tests were genuinely executing did Sumner merge, drawing a sharp line between confident enough to commit and confident enough to release.

    The Regressions Are the Curriculum

    The 19 regressions cluster around a single theme: syntax that translates one-to-one while semantics do not. Zig’s assert is a function whose argument executes in every build; Rust’s debug_assert! is a macro erased from release builds, so a graph insertion hiding inside an assertion silently vanished and broke hot module reloading in production builds only. Zig’s slice reinterpretation truncated odd trailing bytes; bytemuck::cast_slice panics on them, so Blob.text() on malformed UTF-16 went from lenient to fatal. Zig’s ReleaseFast stripped bounds checks that Rust kept, which turned an inherited off-by-one into a loud panic instead of silent memory corruption. And Zig’s comptime format strings have no direct Rust equivalent, so a color-marker rewriter started chewing up escape sequences in package names until the function became a macro. Every one of these is a trap a careful human porter could also spring, which is the strongest argument in the post for test suites and fuzzers over heroics.

    What Rust Bought

    The payoff list is concrete. Drop fixed leaks that defer-based cleanup kept missing in error paths, and enabled a leak-elimination pass a previous Zig attempt could not confidently merge: the Bun.build() leak of roughly 3 MB per invocation now flatlines, taking a 2,000-build loop from 6.7 GB to 609 MB. Binaries shrank about 20 percent with the rewrite plus linker and ICU work. Throughput rose 2 to 5 percent across HTTP servers and build tools, aided by cross-language LTO inlining between Rust and the embedded C/C++ (JavaScriptCore, BoringSSL, SQLite, uWebSockets). Recursive parsers use less stack thanks to LLVM lifetime intrinsics. Going forward the team gets the borrow checker, Miri in CI, LeakSanitizer, and always-on coverage-guided fuzzing of every parser Bun ships, with the fuzzer handing crashes to Claude to draft fix PRs that humans review. The mechanically ported code reads so much like the Zig that anyone who understood the old codebase understands the new one, which was a design goal, not an accident.

    Notable Quotes

    “The initial version of Bun was written by me in 1 year, in a cramped Oakland apartment, pre-LLM, in Zig.”

    Jarred Sumner, on Bun’s origins before the rewrite

    “Our bugfix list felt bad and I was tired of going to sleep worrying about crashes in Bun.”

    Jarred Sumner, on the human cost of memory unsafety at scale

    “Until very recently, programming language choice was a one-way decision for a project like Bun.”

    Jarred Sumner, on the assumption this project overturned

    “In safe Rust, these are compiler errors and RAII-like automatic cleanup with Drop. Compiler errors are a better feedback loop than a style guide.”

    Jarred Sumner, on why Rust beat a stricter Zig style guide

    “What if, instead, I spend a week testing if Anthropic’s new model can rewrite Bun in Rust?”

    Jarred Sumner, on the question that started the 11-day experiment

    “The Claude that wrote the code wants the code to get accepted. The Claude that reviews wants to find issues in the code.”

    Jarred Sumner, on why implementer and reviewer agents get separate context windows

    “This is the bleeding edge of what’s possible today. I used a pre-release version of Claude Fable 5, a Mythos-class model.”

    Jarred Sumner, on the model behind the rewrite

    “Startup got 10% faster on Linux but otherwise, barely anyone noticed. Boring is good.”

    Jarred Sumner, on Claude Code shipping on the Rust port in production

    “One engineer can do a lot more today than a year ago.”

    Jarred Sumner, closing the post

    Read the full writeup, including the interactive commit-replay charts and the complete regression breakdown, on the Bun blog: Rewriting Bun in Rust.

    Related Reading

    • Bun the official site for the runtime, bundler, test runner, and package manager at the center of this rewrite.
    • Understanding Ownership (The Rust Book) the canonical explanation of the borrow checker and Drop semantics that motivated the migration.
    • Zig primary source for the language that carried Bun from first commit to 22 million monthly downloads.
    • Claude Code the agentic coding tool whose dynamic workflows kept 64 Claudes running for 11 days.
    • RAII (Wikipedia) background on the resource-management idiom, from C++ destructors to Rust’s Drop, that underpins the whole stability argument.
  • Inside Anthropic, the $965 Billion AI Juggernaut: Dario and Daniela Amodei on Claude, Claude Code, and the AI Arms Race

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

    TLDW

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

    Thoughts

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

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

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

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

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

    Key Takeaways

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

    Detailed Summary

    An unlikely AI celebrity and a sibling-run juggernaut

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

    The smooth exponential and the road from OpenAI

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

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

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

    The enterprise bet, Claude Code, and the SaaSpocalypse

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

    Boris Cherny, jet packs, and Code with Claude

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

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

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

    Notable Quotes

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

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

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

    Dario Amodei, on why he and Daniela left OpenAI

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

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

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

    Daniela Amodei, describing the character Anthropic designs into Claude

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

    Dario Amodei, on why Anthropic bet on enterprise and coding

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

    Boris Cherny, the engineer behind Claude Code and Claude Cowork

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

    Boris Cherny, on building software with Claude Code

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

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

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

    Dario Amodei, responding to the doom-marketing accusation

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

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

    Watch the full episode of The Circuit inside Anthropic here.

    Related Reading

    • Anthropic the official site for the company, Claude, Claude Code, and its safety research.
    • Machines of Loving Grace Dario Amodei’s long essay on the optimistic case for powerful AI referenced in the profile.
    • Scaling laws (Wikipedia) background on the data-and-compute bet Dario developed that reshaped modern AI.
    • Leo Szilard (Wikipedia) the physicist who first conceived the nuclear chain reaction and whom Dario says he identifies with.
    • Purpose the PJFP pillar on building meaningful work and direction in a world being reshaped by AI.
  • Claude Fable 5 and Claude Mythos 5: Anthropic Ships Its First Generally Available Mythos-Class AI Model With New Safeguards

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

    TLDR

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

    Thoughts

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

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

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

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

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

    Key Takeaways

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

    Detailed Summary

    A Mythos-class model, made safe for general use

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

    Two models, one brain

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

    Software engineering and token efficiency

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

    Knowledge work, vision, and memory

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

    Life sciences: drug design, hypotheses, and genomics

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

    The new safeguards: classifiers and fallback

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

    Jailbreak resistance, data retention, and availability

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

    Notable Quotes

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

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

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

    Anthropic, on where Fable 5 sits in the lineup

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

    Anthropic, describing Claude Mythos 5

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

    Anthropic, on Fable 5’s software engineering results

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

    Anthropic, on how often the safeguards route to Opus 4.8

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

    Anthropic, on the model’s molecular biology research

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

    Anthropic, on the limits of its safeguards

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

    Anthropic, explaining the Fable and Mythos naming

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

    Related Reading

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

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

    TLDW

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

    Thoughts

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

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

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

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

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

    Key Takeaways

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

    Detailed Summary

    The Anthropic Investment and the Three-Horse Race

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

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

    Why the Models Are Not Commodities

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

    The S-Curve Framework in Full

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

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

    The Software Bear Case

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

    The Decommoditization of AI Hardware

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

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

    Private Markets, Risks, and the Research Machine

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

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

    Notable Quotes

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

    Related Reading

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

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

    TLDW

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

    Thoughts

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

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

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

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

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

    Key Takeaways

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

    Detailed Summary

    The unicorn economy has rebalanced after 2021

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

    Cohort health is the real story

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

    The Magnificent 8 and a $4 trillion private index

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

    Exits are thawing and a wall of liquidity is coming

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

    The revenue ramp past the hyperscalers

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

    The SpaceX CODE framework

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

    Counterintuitive odds and the speed of value creation

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

    AI memory and where the revenue actually comes from

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

    Every sector is being transformed at once

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

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

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

    Notable Quotes

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

    Related Reading

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