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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.

  • Elon Musk’s Full Economist Interview: Superintelligence in 5 Years, Why Money Won’t Matter by 2036, a Peer Review Plan for Frontier AI, China’s Electricity Edge, and a Fiery Clash Over Europe

    Sitting down with The Economist at Tesla’s Texas Gigafactory for a full-length interview, Elon Musk lays out the most concentrated version yet of his worldview: superintelligence within roughly five years, an age of abundance where money stops mattering by 2036, humans no longer in charge and probably happier for it. He also floats a surprisingly concrete AI safety mechanism (competitors peer-reviewing each other’s frontier models before release), handicaps the US-China race in terms of electricity rather than chips, defends his voting control and his Starlink decisions in Ukraine, admits he got carried away with politics during the DOGE era, and then spends the final half hour in a genuinely combative argument with his interviewer about Europe, immigration, and his claim that civil war in Britain is inevitable.

    TLDW

    Musk predicts AI exceeds the sum of human intelligence in about five years and that by 2036 robots plus digital intelligence create a quasi-infinite economy where anyone can have anything they can think of and money, taxation, and even corporate control become irrelevant. He concedes humans will not be in charge (the chimpanzee analogy), still holds a 10 to 20 percent probability of catastrophe, and explains his shift from doomer to “enjoy the ride” fatalism: the momentum cannot be stopped, and even a stop button probably should not be pressed. His safety fix: the leading labs, including Chinese ones, hold biweekly calls and get a week or two of pre-release access to test each other’s frontier models, escalating to the US or Chinese government when a maker refuses to address a danger, on the model of the Motion Picture Association and the recent government intervention over Anthropic’s Mythos model that Amazon flagged. He assesses Kimi K3 as closing on Fable, says China’s electricity advantage (already more than the US, Europe, and India combined) will eventually make it the AI leader, and pitches orbital data centers as the answer to the power constraint. On jobs he is blunter than ever: AI already beats 90 percent of professional programmers, will reach Stockfish-level unbeatability at everything, and work becomes optional like gardening, funded by Treasury checks in a deflationary abundance economy. He defends his 80 percent voting control as protection for five-to-ten-year bets like Mars, dismisses key-man risk with the Apple-after-Jobs analogy, explains the Starlink whitelist built with Ukraine to cut off smuggled Russian terminals, calls for a pragmatic peace with territorial concessions, insists zero people died from DOGE’s aid cuts while admitting he got too involved in politics, and battles The Economist over whether his portrayal of Europe as heading toward civil war is prophecy or misinformation. His closer: the singularity is 10 years away, civil war 20, so AI renders the rest less relevant.

    Thoughts

    The most important thing in this interview is a subtle accounting trick with risk. Musk’s probability of catastrophe has not moved: he reaffirms the 10 to 20 percent chance that this ends humanity. What changed is his relationship to agency. Since he believes nothing can stop the momentum (and that his own attempts to shape it, founding OpenAI as a counterweight to Google, only accelerated it), he has reclassified doom from a problem to a weather condition, and settled on “let’s enjoy the ride.” The rocket comparison the interviewer springs on him is the sharpest moment of the first hour: he would board a rocket with a 10 to 20 percent failure chance only if he could do nothing about it, which is precisely the premise doing all the work in his optimism. Fatalism is doing the job that safety engineering is supposed to do.

    That said, his peer-review proposal deserves to be taken seriously, because it is the rare AI governance idea with a working incentive structure and an existing precedent. Competitors are technically capable of evaluating a frontier model, motivated to slow each other down, and (per the Mythos episode he describes, where Amazon spotted the cybersecurity risk and called the White House, not a regulator) evidently faster than government at finding the danger. The Motion Picture Association analogy is apt in both directions, though: industry self-rating bodies work, but they also entrench incumbents and define “dangerous” on the industry’s terms. A safety club of five American labs plus a few Chinese ones is also, functionally, a cartel with a hotline to two governments. That may still beat the alternatives on speed, which is his real argument: six months is a long time now.

    The economics section contains a contradiction Musk half-acknowledges and the interviewer never quite lands. He argues money will not matter by 2036, that taxation becomes irrelevant, and that inflation dissolves into deflation as robot output outruns the money supply. Yet in the same conversation he defends, with real feeling, his 80 percent voting control, his stock option tax bill, and the quarterly-earnings pressure that justifies the structure, all machinery of a world where money matters enormously. His own reconciliation is the interesting part: control only matters to him for the window before AI is smart enough that controlling companies is moot. He is, by his own description, racing to steer during the last decade in which steering exists. The gardening model of post-labor life (work as artisanal hobby, your tomatoes worse than the store’s but grown with love) is the most concrete picture of the abundance endgame he has offered, and notably it is a picture of consumption and pastime, not of purpose, which is exactly the gap readers of this site will notice.

    His China analysis is the most analytically useful segment. Strip out the drama and his model is clean: AI is a function of whichever input binds first, chips or electricity. Outside China the binding constraint is already power and cooling; inside China it is chips, and China is close to solving lithography while already producing more electricity than the US, Europe, and India combined, heading toward four times US output. On that model, export controls buy time but cannot change the destination, orbital data centers are not science fiction but an attempt to dodge the terrestrial power wall, and the eventual leader is whoever has the most electrons. It is essentially the same “transistors, then electrons” bottleneck Sam Altman named in his recent interview, extended one step further into a prediction Washington will not enjoy.

    Then there is the final act, which is a different genre entirely. The interviewer’s best question is the one that links the two halves: how does the man narrating a civilizational transformation also spend his evenings in the tribal cesspit of social media, posting that civil war in Britain is inevitable? Musk’s own numbers dissolve some of the tension he creates: if the singularity arrives in 10 years and the British civil war in 20, then by his own model the machine gods adjudicate the immigration debate before it ever reaches the barricades, and he says as much, agreeing the AI revolution renders the rest less relevant. Which invites the obvious question of why a man with a quarter billion followers and, by his estimate, ten years of human steering left, allocates so much of that scarce steering to the fight he says will not matter. The interview never answers it, but it is the right thing to sit with after watching.

    Key Takeaways

    • Musk expects AI to exceed the sum of all human intelligence in roughly five years, and by 2036 to be so far beyond it that there is essentially nothing AI cannot do better than humans, apart from being human.
    • The most likely outcome, barring thermonuclear war, is an age of amazing abundance where anyone can have anything they can think of. He offers no analogy or metaphor that captures the magnitude of the change.
    • The economy, in his frame, is digital plus physical intelligence. Digital AI lacks end effectors; humanoid robots supply them (“you need lots of bots”), and vast robots plus vast intelligence yields a quasi-infinite economy.
    • He predicts money will not matter by 2036: money is only wanted for goods and services, and if robots produce more than any human can consume, its purpose evaporates. Taxation, he says, becomes somewhat irrelevant too.
    • Humans will most likely not be in control within 10 years. If the intelligence gap between AI and humans exceeds the gap between humans and chimpanzees, it is hard to imagine the chimpanzees staying in charge.
    • He still assigns a 10 to 20 percent chance that this ends badly for humanity, unchanged from his earlier warnings, but has philosophically concluded to look on the bright side because the momentum cannot be stopped.
    • Even if a stop button existed, he argues we probably should not press it, because the most likely outcome is incredible abundance for all. His stated philosophy now: enjoy the ride.
    • He believes the most important thing for AI safety is that the AI be maximally truth-seeking and curious, in which case it will foster humanity and want us to be happy and prosper.
    • By his own account his interventions backfired into acceleration: he created OpenAI as a counterweight to Google’s near-monopoly, Anthropic spun out of OpenAI, and he now calls Anthropic the leader in AI.
    • His concrete safety proposal, discussed with Demis Hassabis before Hassabis published his regulator piece: the leading labs hold an informal call every week or two, and each new frontier model gets a week or two of pre-release testing by competitors via API.
    • The incentive logic: governments lack the technical depth to judge a frontier release, but competitors both understand the risks and are not shy about arguing a rival’s model should be delayed. Rivals keep each other honest.
    • The model for the scheme is the Motion Picture Association: an industry body that rates its own products, with government stepping in only when a company refuses to address a flagged danger. Only the US and Chinese governments have real power to act, and Chinese frontier labs should be included.
    • The precedent he cites: the US government limited the release of Anthropic’s Mythos model over cybersecurity risks, but it was Amazon, not government, that spotted the danger and called the White House.
    • On timelines for setting this up, six months is a long time. Breakthroughs now arrive sometimes multiple per day, so the calls and cross-testing should start immediately.
    • He remains openly not a fan of Sam Altman: a nonprofit founded to be open source and owned by the world became an 800 billion dollar closed-source for-profit, the exact opposite of what he donated for. He notes the Anthropic team left OpenAI because they did not trust Altman.
    • He calls Dario Amodei a very principled person and says nobody he has met at Anthropic set off his evil detector, then adds his own twist on the proverb: the road to hell is mostly paved with bad intentions, with a few well-intentioned paving stones in there. Despite the feuds, he says the leaders will set aside personal differences and talk for the good of the world.
    • He also jabs that Dario dug his own grave on Mythos messaging: if you tell everyone a model is terrifying and then announce you are releasing it, people will naturally be alarmed.
    • He rates Fable still clearly the smartest model, with Kimi K3 getting quite close, and assumes Anthropic certainly has something much better than Mythos ready to release at any time.
    • AI is a function of its limiting factor: chips or electricity. Outside China the constraint is now power and cooling, because AI chips are being made faster than new electricity comes online. Inside China, US export controls make chips the constraint.
    • China already produces more electricity than the US, Europe, and India combined, and he guesses it reaches four times US production. Chinese labs are highly compute-efficient, China is closer than most realize to solving lithography, and at some point China probably leads in AI.
    • Banning US companies from using Chinese models will not stop China from leading and cannot bind the rest of the world. Orbital data centers are his answer to the power constraint, after which chips become the binding constraint again outside China.
    • On jobs, AI is already better than at least 90 percent of professional software engineers, heading for 99 percent, and then for what he calls Stockfish level: as unbeatable at software (and eventually everything) as chess engines are at chess.
    • Every job involving a person at a computer or phone will be doable by AI very soon; humanoid robots extend that to physical work, with local intelligence managed by a large model.
    • Work becomes optional, like gardening: store vegetables will be pristine and your homegrown tomatoes less perfect but artisanal, and cooking dinner from your garden for friends stays a nice touch. People still play chess despite Stockfish.
    • The transition plan is universal high income, with the Treasury simply issuing people checks. Inflation fears misread the future: if goods and services output grows faster than the money supply, the problem is deflation, and he makes that an explicit prediction.
    • He grants the road will be bumpy and leans on history: “computer” was once a human job title, with skyscrapers full of people calculating bank interest, jobs nobody wants back. The difference now is the radically accelerated pace.
    • His recommended reading for the AI future is Iain M. Banks’s Culture novels, which the interviewer is reading on his advice while objecting that humans in the Culture have minimal agency compared to the Minds.
    • He defends holding roughly 80 percent voting control post-IPO as insulation for five-to-ten-year investments like moon and Mars bases against quarterly earnings pressure, which he traces to portfolio managers’ own short-horizon incentive structures. Retail investors, he says, are on balance more insightful and longer-term.
    • On key-man risk: his companies would do very well for several years on their existing roadmaps, but the Apple-after-Jobs analogy applies. Apple still makes amazing phones and has not produced a Jobs-level breakthrough since.
    • His unifying goal is maximizing the future light cone of consciousness: a spacefaring civilization, the Star Trek or Star Wars future. Starship, the largest flying object ever made, is intended to eventually launch more than once per hour. His life feels surreal enough to make him believe in simulation theory, and he says AI is unfolding pretty much as he and Ray Kurzweil expected.
    • On Starlink and Ukraine: Russia was never sold Starlink but smuggled terminals through Ukraine, so SpaceX built a whitelist of approved terminals with the Ukrainian government, knowingly cutting off innocent users in occupied territories. He argues for a pragmatic peace with concessions to Russia, is offended by diplomats pontificating over seven-course dinners while conscripts die, and answers the power question with “there are no angels in war.”
    • On DOGE he concedes: “I think I got a little too involved in politics, got carried away, frankly.” The mission was the deficit (interest payments now exceed the entire war department and intelligence budget), and he claims recipients repeatedly refused to provide contact information proving money reached its stated purpose.
    • He flatly insists zero people died from the aid cuts, calling contrary claims nonsense and arguing the Gates Foundation and MacKenzie Scott’s billions could have covered any genuine gap, and if they did not, they are equally responsible. The interviewer explicitly refuses to accept this.
    • On the administration: no administration is perfect, but this one is on balance excellent and vastly better than the alternative.
    • The Europe segment is a sustained fight: he defends “civil war in Britain is inevitable” (later: probably 20 years away) as extrapolation of a growing population with beliefs antithetical to Western values; the interviewer, who lives in London, counters that he has not visited in years, that UK violent crime is lower than any US city, and that his 240 million followers absorb a false picture. He demands the exchange stay in the final cut.
    • His self-description: not far right but centrist and classically liberal, for secure borders, safe cities, and sensible spending, and supporting “normal people,” not fringe parties. He argues welfare states create the forcing function for mass migration, favors immigration by productive, honest immigrants (being one himself), and claims a Cassandra effect: a very high batting average of predictions people refuse to believe until they come to pass.
    • The closing reconciliation of the interview’s two halves is his own: the AI and robot singularity (10 years) arrives before any British civil war (20 years), dominates everything on the macro scale, and probably renders the political fights less important. The interviewer’s last word: hopefully the benign all-powerful AIs prevent such outcomes. His reply: they probably will.

    Detailed Summary

    2036: abundance and the end of money

    Asked to describe 2036 if he succeeds, Musk answers that AI will be far greater than the sum of human intelligence, having likely crossed that threshold around 2031. The economy reduces to digital and physical intelligence: models supply the thinking, humanoid robots supply the end effectors that let intelligence shape atoms, and the combination makes the production of goods and services quasi-infinite. Pressed on how his companies make money, given the SpaceX IPO prospectus showed most revenue coming from Grok, he short-circuits the question: money is a claim on goods and services, and when robots produce more than any human can consume, money stops mattering. He allows the standard caveats (a thermonuclear war could derail it) but insists the most likely outcome is an age of amazing abundance, while admitting no analogy or metaphor illustrates the magnitude of the change.

    From doomer to “enjoy the ride”

    The interviewer confronts him with his own record: a decade ago he called rapid recursive self-improvement the thing that terrified him most and predicted humans would be pet Labradors at best; in 2023 he signed the pause letter; last year he put a 10 to 20 percent chance on killer robots ending humanity. Musk confirms the risk estimate still stands, then explains the shift: he cannot see any way to stop the momentum, his own attempts (founding OpenAI as a counterweight to Google, which spawned Anthropic) only accelerated the field, and so all roads lead to acceleration and one can either be sad about it or join the club. Even a stop button, he says, probably should not be pressed, since the most likely outcome is abundance for all. When the interviewer asks whether he would board a rocket with a 10 to 20 percent chance of exploding, his answer is yes, if you cannot do anything about it: the only move is minimizing the probability of the bad outcome. He describes swinging intraday between exhilaration and terror, rejects the Panglossian label, and says his AI-safety bet is on making AI maximally truth-seeking and curious. The chimpanzee analogy carries the control question: we are evolved chimps who recently swung through trees (a digression both participants enjoy more than expected), and the chimps do not stay in charge.

    A peer-review system for frontier models

    Musk reveals he spent hours with Demis Hassabis before Hassabis published his public-private regulator proposal, and his own recommendation is smaller and faster: the leading AI companies hold an informal call every week or two on safety and security, and before any breakthrough frontier model ships, competitors get a week or two of API access to test it and can recommend a pause. The genius of the scheme, he argues, is the incentive structure: government reviewers lack the technical depth to judge a release, while competitors both understand the dangers and are delighted to argue a rival should be delayed. The analogy is the Motion Picture Association rating its own industry’s output. Government enters only as backstop: if leading companies conclude a model is dangerous and its maker refuses to act, they alert Washington or Beijing, the only two governments with real power here, and Chinese frontier labs should be inside the tent. The precedent is fresh: the US government used the threat of export controls to limit release of Anthropic’s Mythos over cybersecurity risks, and it was Amazon that found the problem and called the White House. On trust between men who insult each other on social media, he is unsentimental: he considers his grievance with Altman legitimate (a nonprofit donated to as open source becoming an 800 billion dollar closed-source for-profit), praises Dario Amodei as principled and Anthropic’s people as failing to set off his evil detector, quips that the road to hell is mostly paved with bad intentions, and says that if they have to talk, they will talk, setting aside personal differences for the good of the world. Timeline: immediately; six months is a long time when breakthroughs land daily.

    China, chips, and electricity

    Musk’s China model is mechanical: AI output is a function of the limiting factor, either chips or electricity. Outside China, chips now outrun the grid, making power and cooling the constraint (and water, he insists, a negligible one); inside China, export controls make chips the constraint, though Chinese labs have become far more efficient with what they have (he cites Kimi K3’s efficiency) and China is closer than most realize to solving lithography at volume. On raw power, China already exceeds the US, Europe, and India combined and is heading, he guesses, to four times US production. His conclusion follows from the model: given lots of compute, Chinese companies would plausibly lead, they will eventually have lots of compute, ergo they will lead. Banning K3 in America will not change that and cannot bind the rest of the world. His escape hatch from the terrestrial power wall is AI data centers in space, after which the constraint cycles back to chips. Along the way he ranks the field: Fable still clearly the smartest model, K3 closing, and Anthropic certainly sitting on something better than Mythos it could release at any time. He also endorses China’s robot boxing matches as the future of entertainment, citing a headless robot that kept fighting.

    Jobs: Stockfish level, gardening, and deflation

    Musk sides with the blunt end of the jobs debate while mocking Dario Amodei’s framing (terrify everyone about a model, then release it, and people will be scared: “you’ve literally told them to be scared and then you release the scary thing”). His own claims are stronger than Amodei’s: AI already writes software better than at least 90 percent of professional engineers, will pass 99, and then reaches what he calls Stockfish level, the regime where a phone-sized program beats Magnus Carlsen and competition is simply over. That applies to everything, first every screen-and-phone job, then physical work as humanoid robots come online as end effectors under large-model management. Work becomes optional the way growing vegetables is optional: the store’s tomatoes are plumper, but dinner from a friend’s garden is a nice touch, and people still play chess although every computer wins. The distribution mechanism is universal high income, the Treasury issuing checks; the interviewer’s inflation objection gets flipped into an explicit prediction that deflation will be the issue, because output will grow faster than the money supply. He acknowledges a bumpy road and the historical rhyme: “computer” was a human job description, whole skyscrapers computed bank interest by hand, and nobody wants those jobs back. What differs is pace. His syllabus for the destination is Iain M. Banks’s Culture series (the interviewer is partway through Excession on his recommendation), though the two disagree about whether humans in the Culture retain meaningful agency, and the interviewer notes with some irony that Banks was a socialist.

    Control, key-man risk, and the IPO logic

    Challenged on holding roughly 80 percent of voting shares and being removable only by a vote he controls, Musk answers that founder control is the norm among AI-era giants (Alphabet under Larry and Sergey, Meta under Zuckerberg) and that his structure exists so he can invest on five-to-ten-year horizons, moon bases and Mars bases that were literally in the S-1, without being punished quarterly by short sellers and portfolio managers whose own compensation cycles force short-termism. Retail investors, he says, are on balance more insightful and longer-term, and taking SpaceX public was partly so the public could own a piece at all. His tax situation gets an airing: roughly 45 percent on stock options between federal and California rates, another rough half at death, a record for most tax ever paid by a human, trillions more to come, and he is fine with it, because all control buys him is direction-setting for the window before AI is smart enough that controlling companies stops mattering. On key-man risk he predicts several good years on existing roadmaps, then invokes Apple after Steve Jobs: great phones, no breakthrough products. The Mars question resolves into his most abstract self-definition: he is interested in whatever set of actions maximizes the future light cone of consciousness, the Star Trek and Star Wars future (Star Wars was the first film he saw in a theater, at six), and life now feels surreal enough, Starship launching hourly, to nudge him toward simulation theory. It is all unfolding, he says, pretty much as he and Ray Kurzweil expected.

    Starlink, Ukraine, and DOGE

    On geopolitical power, Musk confirms the mechanics of the recent Starlink restriction: Russia was never a customer, but terminals ordered through Ukraine were smuggled into occupied territory and used, in some cases, for attacks, so SpaceX and Kyiv built a whitelist of approved terminals, at the acknowledged cost of cutting off innocent users. He deflects the question of whether one man should hold war-tipping power (“is there something you think I should do differently?”) into his peace advocacy: the border has barely moved in years, Russia will not withdraw, concessions are pragmatism rather than pro-Russia sentiment, and he reserves particular contempt for diplomats pontificating over seven-course dinners while conscripts die, closing with the adage that there are no angels in war. On DOGE, he offers his frankest concession, that he got a little too involved in politics and got carried away, while defending the mission (interest payments on the debt now exceed the entire war and intelligence budget) and his method: DOGE merely asked for recipients’ contact information, found wires routed to Deloitte in Washington rather than Africa, and got silence. He then flatly asserts zero people died from the cuts, zero point zero, dismissing reports as the predictable sad stories of defunded fraud, and arguing the Gates Foundation’s 50 billion or MacKenzie Scott’s giving could have covered any real gap, and if they did not, they are equally responsible. The interviewer accepts the waste critique, endorses parts of the aid overhaul, and explicitly refuses the zero-deaths claim; neither yields. On the administration overall: not perfect, on balance excellent, vastly better than the alternative.

    The Europe fight

    The final half hour is the most confrontational interview Musk has given in years, and he demands it stay in the cut (“Please keep this part in”). The interviewer, a London resident, charges that Musk’s feed paints Europe as a dystopia of grooming gangs and civilizational collapse for 240 million followers, notes he has not visited Britain in years, cites crime statistics showing London safer than any large American city, and calls his promotion of a vigilante film that glorifies the murder of a Muslim immigrant family irresponsible. Musk counters that he supports normal people rather than a far right, that secure borders, safe cities, and sensible spending were mainstream positions 15 years ago (he claims you can read Obama or Hillary speeches to leftists as Trump quotes), that welfare-state benefits are the forcing function pulling migration toward Europe, and that a large, growing population holding beliefs antithetical to Western values makes eventual civil war obvious enough that a child can see it. He denies racism (pointing to his half-Indian partner and their four children) and frames his position as classical liberalism, which the interviewer contests by scoring Europe better than America on two of his own three principles. Both accept a tour of Britain as the tiebreaker, and Musk invokes his Cassandra effect: a very high batting average for predictions people refuse to believe. The heat deaths versus gun deaths exchange, and his discovery that The Economist is very pro air conditioning, is the segment’s one moment of comic relief.

    The singularity trumps everything

    Asked at the end where his confidence is higher, the AI predictions or the political ones, Musk gives the answer that reframes the whole interview: superintelligence is called the singularity because, like a black hole, you cannot know what happens after it, and it sucks in everything. AI and robots dominate every macro consideration on a sub-10-year timescale, while his British civil war estimate sits at 20 years, so by his own arithmetic the singularity arrives first and probably renders the political fights less important. The interviewer’s parting hope, that the benign all-powerful AIs prevent such outcomes, gets his final concession: they probably will. His actual last words: “I’m not boring.” On the evidence of this interview, that prediction, at least, is safe.

    Notable Quotes

    “The most likely outcome is an age of amazing abundance where anyone can have anything they can think of.”

    Elon Musk, describing the world of 2036 if his companies succeed

    “Money won’t matter in 2036.”

    Elon Musk, when pressed on how his companies will generate revenue

    “If the difference in intelligence between AI and humans is vastly greater than the difference in intelligence between AI and chimpanzees, it’s hard to imagine that the chimpanzees would be in charge.”

    Elon Musk, on whether humans remain in control within ten years

    “If there was a stop button, we probably shouldn’t press it.”

    Elon Musk, explaining his shift from urging an AI pause to embracing acceleration

    “Honestly, if you ask me on any given day, in fact, even intraday, I’ve gone from exhilaration to terror regarding AI.”

    Elon Musk, on how it feels to hold a 10 to 20 percent probability of catastrophe

    “We already have a situation where AI is better than at least 90% of humans at writing software.”

    Elon Musk, on the path to Stockfish-level AI at every job

    “I’ll make a prediction, which is that deflation will be the issue, not inflation.”

    Elon Musk, on funding universal high income with Treasury-issued checks

    “The road to hell is, I think, mostly paved with bad intentions. There are a few well intentioned paving stones in there.”

    Elon Musk, on trusting well-meaning rivals at Anthropic while staying vigilant

    “I think I got a little too involved in politics, got carried away, frankly.”

    Elon Musk, reflecting on the DOGE era

    “I would say civil war in Britain is probably 20 years away. And the AI robot singularity is 10 years away.”

    Elon Musk, ranking his own predictions at the close of the interview

    Watch the full conversation here.

    Related Reading

  • Dig Through Your Couches, SpaceX Needs It: Cyan Banister on Luke Nosek’s Pitch, Going All In on SpaceX, Pokemon Go, Meditation, and Why Curiosity Is the Ultimate Investing Edge

    Angel investor Cyan Banister has one of the most remarkable track records in Silicon Valley: SpaceX, Uber, Anduril, Postmates, Niantic, Affirm, Flexport, Flock Safety, and dozens more. In this wide-ranging conversation on the Sourcery podcast with Molly O’Shea, the Long Journey Ventures co-founder tells the story behind her first check, when PayPal co-founder Luke Nosek got on the floor of her house and told her to dig through her couches because SpaceX needed every liquid dollar she had. She also covers the Founders Fund Mafia show, why personality is not fixed, the five minute meditation practice she prescribes to stuck founders, how asking “why” led her to Pokemon Go and Uber, what worries her about AI surveillance, and why free speech is her number one cause.

    TLDW

    Cyan Banister explains how Luke Nosek and her husband Scott Banister convinced her to put her entire IronPort windfall into SpaceX while rockets were still blowing up on the launch pad, a bet that became the best investment of her life. She walks through the “second believer” philosophy behind Long Journey Ventures and its bellwether logo, her run on Mike Solana’s Founders Fund Mafia show filmed at the site of the famous PayPal Mafia photo, why games like Mafia, poker, and board games are core Silicon Valley social infrastructure, and the time she bluffed Phil Hellmuth on a live stream. She then goes deep on inner work: personality is not fixed, the gap between your values and your actions is measurable, meditation is noticing that you are noticing, and mornings should start with a “why” question. That mindset produced her Niantic and Uber investments, informs her worries about centralized AI and a surveillance state, and fuels her excitement about AI as a new paintbrush, vibe manufacturing, agentized one person businesses, Substrate, Becoming Bio, and Diamond Foundry. She closes with her mentors, Peter Thiel, Marc Andreessen, Scott Cook, and Rick Rubin, and a blunt defense of curiosity and free speech over shame by association.

    Thoughts

    The most useful idea in this interview is the “second believer.” Long Journey keeps two candles on the wall: a founder lights the first flame, and someone else lights their own candle from it and holds the flame in case the founder’s goes out. That is a precise description of what early capital actually is. Luke Nosek was Elon Musk’s second believer, championing SpaceX “with more heart” than Cyan had ever seen, and Cyan’s first check existed because Nosek’s conviction was strong enough to transfer. Most people think conviction is a private mental state. This interview argues it is social infrastructure: belief propagates person to person, and the people who hold flames for others quietly shape which futures get built.

    The SpaceX story deserves a caveat Banister herself supplies. Putting one hundred percent of a liquidity event into a company whose rockets were exploding looks like genius only in hindsight; her friends told her she had lit her money on fire, and they were reasoning correctly from the information available. What made the bet rational was not the outcome but the frame Nosek and Scott Banister gave her: you are young, able-bodied, and infinitely employable, so your downside is a career, not ruin. That is the actual lesson for anyone tempted to copy the trade. Concentrated risk is a function of your recovery capacity, not your conviction level. She could afford to be the fool card. A fifty five year old with dependents cannot, and pretending otherwise is how people get hurt imitating legends.

    Her investing process is really an attention practice wearing a venture costume. The Niantic story is the cleanest example: she noticed friends chartering boats and ditching Defcon parties to capture invisible portals in Ingress, asked why Google would build such a thing, worked out that it was free mapping data, and then recognized the ticket subject lines at Hint Water as her path to the CEO the week Niantic spun out of Alphabet. Nothing in that chain requires capital or connections. It requires being awake, which is exactly why she starts coaching clients with five minutes of meditation and a “why” question every morning. The pipeline from mindfulness to alpha sounds like woo until you notice that every step of her best deals was just paying attention slightly earlier than everyone else.

    Her claim that personality is surgically alterable is more radical than it sounds, and it lands close to the core of the pursuit of joy, fulfillment, and purpose. Most self-improvement advice accepts the self as given and optimizes around it. Banister says the “I’m just like this” script is an excuse for behavior you are unwilling to change, and her values-versus-actions audit, literally listing where you lied this week, including the accidental lies of broken small commitments, is a concrete tool anyone can run tonight. She even disagrees with Marc Andreessen’s famous advice against introspection, which takes some nerve given he is one of her heroes. The through line from her homelessness to her optimism is that she treated her own character as buildable, and that is a more transferable asset than any cap table.

    The last stretch, on centralized AI, surveillance, and free speech, is where her optimism shows its edges. She is an accelerationist who backs open source and decentralized control precisely because she remembers the internet of 1999 promising the same thing and consolidating anyway. Her warning that autonomous vehicles could quietly abolish freedom of movement for dissidents is the kind of unfashionable thought experiment that her whole “question every phrase” method is built to surface. You do not have to share her politics to notice the consistency: someone who measures a nation’s health by its tolerance for comedy and rap music is applying the same test to Peter Thiel dinner parties and to AI policy, which is more than most commentators on either side can say.

    Key Takeaways

    • Cyan Banister’s first ever angel check was SpaceX, made after PayPal co-founder Luke Nosek came to her house and told her and Scott Banister to dig through their couches for anything liquid because SpaceX needed it.
    • She put everything she made from the IronPort sale to Cisco into SpaceX at a time when rockets were blowing up on the launch pad and critics said private citizens had no business in space.
    • The frame that justified the all-in bet: if you are young and able-bodied you are infinitely employable, so a total loss costs you a lifestyle, not your future. She held the position for roughly 20 years and calls it the best investment she will ever make.
    • Failure was priced in: she compares early SpaceX to early aviation, where getting planes to fly required crashing a lot of planes, and NASA veterans knew reusability would demand repeated public failure.
    • Combined with her husband Scott Banister, she believes they are the number one angel investing duo in the world, and even split individually both would sit in the top ten of the Stanford angel rankings. Married partners share capital, which rankings and lists struggle to represent.
    • Her portfolio names dropped in the episode include SpaceX, Anduril, Uber, Zappos, PayPal, Affirm, Flexport, Checkr, Density, Flock Safety, Brave, Control Labs, Depop, Substrate, Carta, Together AI, Postmates, Niantic, Diamond Foundry, Upstart, Fiverr, Forge, Opendoor, Calm, TrueMed, and Crusoe.
    • Long Journey Ventures’ logo is a bellwether, the lead sheep of a flock, looking sideways to spot the nonobvious. The firm’s “second believer” ritual uses two candles: light your candle from a founder’s flame and hold it so they can reignite if theirs goes out.
    • She was a cast member on Mike Solana’s Founders Fund Mafia show, filmed at Tosca, the same location as the famous PayPal Mafia photo, with a full reality TV production: one camera per player, table lenses, aerial cameras, and over 30 crew.
    • Her Mafia strategy is the meta game: listening for sounds, watching eye movements, tracking who protests too much and who is forming alliances, on the assumption that everyone is lying.
    • Games are Silicon Valley’s social infrastructure. Poker, Mafia, Werewolf, chess, Magic the Gathering, and Settlers of Catan nights let people skip small talk, collaborate immediately, and reveal how many turns ahead someone thinks.
    • If you get invited to a poker night or a Mafia game in tech, go. She has found founders and friends through games, and treats them like poker or golf as deal flow channels.
    • Brian Singerman got her into board games through a board game of the month club she ran for $40 a month, shipping sub-30-minute games in advance so game night starts with playing, not rule explanations. She has never met anyone better at strategy board games.
    • She beat Phil Hellmuth with her first ever bluff during a live streamed poker game she did not know was being broadcast, by convincing herself she had the best hand and acting accordingly. Hellmuth went on tilt for the rest of the session.
    • She identifies with the fool tarot card: walking off ledges expecting things to work out, and believing that on a long enough time horizon every setback turns out to have been necessary.
    • Personality is not fixed. Statements like “I’m a Scorpio, I can’t help it” or “I’m Irish, I have a temper” are excuses for behavior you are unwilling to change. With introspection, effort, and time you can surgically alter your personality.
    • Her weekly thought experiment: how wide is the space between your values and your actions? She sits down with paper and lists where she lied, including accidental lies like promising an email and not sending it.
    • She runs Awake Academy 101 classes and coaches stuck founders, starting almost everyone with five minutes of meditation a day, often in the car before starting the engine.
    • Meditation is not silencing your mind. It is noticing thoughts passing like clouds, then noticing that you are noticing, then asking who the noticer is. If you are not your thoughts, who are you?
    • Her presence toolkit: mindful showers, feeling your toes for the first minute after waking instead of launching into routines, and writing “wake up” on mirrors and windows so it appears when they fog up.
    • Humans are “why machines.” She does not start her day until she has a why question to carry through it, and says asking why about everything makes you a better investor, entrepreneur, and everything else.
    • The Niantic investment came from watching Ingress players rent helicopters and charter boats for invisible objects, realizing Google was harvesting free mapping data, then using Hint Water ticket subject lines to reach CEO John Hanke through Kara Goldin the moment Niantic spun out of Alphabet.
    • Nobody would co-invest in Niantic with her because they could not imagine people holding phones up to look at invisible Pokemon. She calls the Pokemon Go launch the closest we have come to world peace.
    • Her Uber conviction came from years of asking taxi drivers about their lives: starting each day $200 in the hole to the taxi yard explained the rushing, the crankiness, and the broken system, so when Uber appeared the pre-thinking was already done.
    • Idle time is research time. Instead of doom scrolling at a restaurant, ask why the bread is baked that way and whether robotics would improve it. Play with science fiction scenarios and they lead you to investments.
    • Her biggest worry, a question Peter Thiel used to ask her: an AI-operated surveillance state. Autonomous vehicles could end freedom of movement, with a government able to shut down your ride or lock you inside it because you are a dissident.
    • She believes the internet’s drift from open and decentralized to closed and centralized is repeating in AI, and that one company with one ideology ruling AI is dangerous. Everyone needs their own models, which is why she backs open source and decentralized control.
    • On education: unless you are pursuing medicine or another field requiring years of formal training, she questions whether school is the right move now. Artisanship and creativity will rise, and AI tutors make genuine self-teaching possible.
    • She is excited about AI as a new paintbrush unlocking dormant creativity: vibe coding, vibe manufacturing, and fully agentized businesses with no employees will mint millionaires from basements even if the businesses are not venture scale.
    • On AI art and training data: after a hundred years art enters the public domain anyway, China will train on Western IP regardless and sell it back, and today’s “slop” is the worst the tools will ever be.
    • AI still cannot replace human judgment. AI-written text has telltale signs any heavy user recognizes, so the job is to take its useful nuggets and massage them back into human form.
    • Her most exciting current investments: Substrate (the substrate of technology, bringing semiconductor manufacturing back to the Americas), Becoming Bio (the substrate of biology), and Diamond Foundry, whose real market was industrial diamonds and wafers, not rings.
    • She avoids hypercompetitive hot deals because the alpha is not in what is happening today. A good seed fund finds moonshots at low prices with meaningful ownership, in the “what’s coming” space: nanotech, biotech, and bottlenecks removed by AI.
    • She is still hunting for “the Alibaba of the Americas” and puts it out publicly in case a founder claims the idea. Wars will be fought with robots and drones, SpaceX opened the category that made Anduril and Varda imaginable, and defense primes will need competitors.
    • Her heroes: Peter Thiel (she went to “Peter Thiel University” during four years as his partner at Founders Fund and calls him tolerant, open-minded, and poorly understood), Marc Andreessen (a teenage hero she vowed to meet as an equal), Scott Cook of Intuit (the gold standard of executive function), and Rick Rubin, whom she has never met but considers a kindred mind.
    • Mentors can be far off. You can learn from people without knowing them by observing them, listening to those around them, and asking why they do what they do without assuming.
    • On shame by association: go to the events, hear all sides before deciding where you stand, and stop weaponizing accusations, because if everyone is called a racist the real ones cannot be found.
    • You can tell the health of a nation by its ability to tolerate comedy and rap music, and comedy disappearing from universities first was the warning sign. Free speech is her number one cause, and much of what she invests in serves it.

    Detailed Summary

    Inside Cyan’s Lair: Play as a Design Principle

    The interview opens in “Cyan’s Lair,” a mural-covered room at Long Journey’s headquarters painted by Brooklyn ceramicist Dave Zackin, whom Banister discovered on Instagram because he wore the same red and green glasses she needed to learn to walk again after her stroke. Zackin rescues abandoned pottery from high schools and ceramic studios, repaints and refires it, and gives it new life. Her home works the same way: thrift store finds, walls of fried eggs, bowls of fake fish people end up throwing at each other. She gauges hosting success by how many things guests touch without permission, because rummaging means they feel free to play. The candles on the wall, added by co-founder Lee Jacobs, encode the firm’s “second believer” concept: light your candle from a founder’s flame and hold it in case theirs goes out. The firm’s bellwether logo, a sheep’s eye looking sideways, comes from her habit of interrogating common phrases: when is being a sheep good, who leads the sheep, and what is the bellwether watching for that others miss?

    Mafia at Tosca: Reality TV for the PayPal Set

    Banister was a breakout player on Mike Solana’s Mafia show for Founders Fund, filmed months before release at Tosca, the location of the famous PayPal Mafia photograph. The production was serious reality television: a camera per player, lenses embedded in the table, aerial shots, and over 30 crew, with spicy moments and sushi-room banter left on the cutting room floor. Her approach was pure meta game, listening for rustling when the mafia woke at night, watching for the table jerk when players leaned on it, and asking the bar who the best players were so she could target them first. It was her first time playing the killer, and she found lying so uncomfortable she was sure everyone could tell. They could not. She hopes for a second season and notes the game should not be played with couples, since accusations have a way of outliving the game.

    Games, Poker, and the Hellmuth Bluff

    Banister argues games are how a neurodiverse industry socializes: instead of cocktail small talk, you drop straight into collaboration and watch how someone thinks, whether they plan five turns ahead, and how they handle math, psychology, and losing. Brian Singerman, whom she calls the best strategy board gamer she has ever met, subscribed to her board game of the month club, where friends paid $40 a month for sub-30-minute games shipped in advance so game nights started instantly. Her poker fame is mostly accidental: she hosts an annual charity tournament for Inflection Grants micro grants, and once stumbled into a live streamed game with Steve Aoki, Ninja, and Phil Hellmuth without realizing cameras were showing her cards to the world. Told at the break to try bluffing just once, she waited for a big pot, convinced herself she held the best hand, and played it that way until Hellmuth folded and went on tilt. The story doubles as her whole philosophy: she was only in Vegas because a portfolio company had her working undercover in a bad wig.

    The Fool Card: Optimism as a Trainable Skill

    Asked how she keeps finding herself in improbable situations, Banister says her life is a series of them, like Bill Murray in The Man Who Knew Too Little, and that if she were a tarot card she would be the fool, walking off ledges expecting things to work out. Pressed on whether ordinary people can live that way, she rejects the premise that they cannot: personality feels fixed only because we recite excuses like “I’m a Scorpio” or “I’m Irish, I have a temper.” With introspection, and here she cheerfully disagrees with Marc Andreessen’s advice against it, you can surgically alter your personality, though it takes effort, time, and facing ugly truths. Her weekly thought experiment asks how wide the space is between your values and your actions: if you claim honesty, list where you lied this week, including the accidental lies of commitments the two-hours-later version of you failed to keep. People wear masks out of fear of standing out, but everyone else is too caught up in their own noise to care, and authenticity leads to more happiness, curiosity, and wonder.

    Waking Up: Meditation, the Right Brain, and Why Machines

    Through her coaching and Awake Academy classes, Banister starts almost everyone with five minutes of meditation a day, often sitting in the car before starting it. She dismantles the perfection myth that drives people away from the practice: meditation is not silencing thought but noticing thoughts pass like clouds, noticing that you are noticing, and asking who the noticer is. From there the practice extends into ordinary life: mindful showers, feeling your toes for the first minute after waking instead of diving into routines, asking “am I awake right now?” before getting out of bed, and writing “wake up” on surfaces that fog up. The point is escaping rumination about past and future, since the present is the only thing that exists. Mind workers live in the left brain, but creativity, body sense, and intuition live in the right, and her greatest investments came with a feeling. Humans, she says, are why machines: she does not start her day without a why question to carry through it.

    Pattern Matching in the Wild: Niantic and Uber

    Her Niantic story shows the method end to end. She watched friends display irrational devotion to Ingress, renting helicopters and abandoning Defcon to capture invisible portals, immersed herself in the game, and asked why Google would build it, concluding it was free mapping data. When Alphabet spun Niantic out, she remembered support tickets at Hint Water marked “Ingress code,” asked founder Kara Goldin about the Google relationship, and was connected to CEO John Hanke within five minutes. He told her Niantic had Nintendo and Google and did not need her money; she asked for one hour and a guarantee he would not regret it, brought her best friend who was a top player (Hanke hired him nearly on the spot), and got into the round. Convincing anyone to co-invest was impossible because nobody believed people would hold up phones to look at invisible Pokemon. The Uber thesis worked the same way years earlier: asking taxi drivers about their lives revealed a system where drivers started each day $200 in debt to the yard, which explained everything riders hated about taxis. People who complain about Uber, she notes, never lived the before times.

    Worries: Surveillance States and Centralized AI

    Banister borrows a question Peter Thiel used to ask her at Founders Fund: what worries you? Her answer is an AI-operated surveillance state fused with robotics. Freedom of movement is a human right, and a future where you cannot drive yourself means someone can shut down your autonomous ride, or lock you inside it, because you said things the state dislikes. AI, like a gun, can be a paperweight or a weapon, and she is an accelerationist who still insists on thinking through what happens if it falls into the wrong hands. Having entered the industry in 1999, she watched an internet that was supposed to be open and decentralized become closed and centralized, and sees the same drift in OpenAI and Anthropic. Everyone needs their own models, she argues, because one company with one ideology ruling it all is dangerous. She also worries about children and what they should study when so much is automatable, concluding that unless a path truly requires years of schooling, like medicine, formal education may not be the answer right now.

    Excitement: The New Paintbrush and the Agentized Business

    On the hopeful side, she sees AI as a new paintbrush unlocking dormant creativity. The person with a million dollar idea who could never get on Shark Tank can now vibe code the app, put up a site, and eventually vibe manufacture the product, running an agentized business with no employees from a basement. These may not be venture scale companies, but they will mint a wave of millionaires, followed in two to three years by a consumer wave that changes signs, fashion, and manufacturing. On AI art controversies she is pragmatic: all art enters the public domain after a hundred years anyway, China will train on Western IP regardless and sell it back, and today’s tools are the worst they will ever be. She has hundreds of movies inside her and can finally make them. But AI is not a replacement for humans: its writing carries telltale signs, and the human job is to take its nuggets and massage them back into human form, agreeing with the host’s Config takeaway that AI generates the average and the human must pull the work out of the bell curve.

    The SpaceX Bet and What Risk Taught Her

    The centerpiece story: Luke Nosek, who met Scott Banister and Max Levchin in a University of Illinois computer lab and drove west with Scott communicating by walkie-talkie, became Elon Musk’s fiercest champion. He arrived at the Banisters’ house, got on the floor in his Vibram shoes, and delivered the pitch: dig through your couches, anything liquid you have, SpaceX needs it. Rockets were blowing up on the launch pad and critics said private citizens had no business in space, but Nosek and Scott argued that early aviation crashed a lot of planes too, and that a young, infinitely employable person should take the shot. Fresh off her IronPort exit to Cisco, she went all in, then immediately wondered what she had done while her own startup struggled. Twenty years later, still essentially unsold, it is the best investment she will probably ever make. The deeper lesson came from realizing angel investing was a special club she had lucked into, one most people never learn exists. Scott farmed his PayPal network while she networked relentlessly through TC40, TC50, Disrupt, and YC demo days for a decade, writing failed checks and calibrating her pattern matching, because becoming good at early stage investing requires losing.

    What’s Next, and the Mentors Behind It

    Her most exciting current bets are Substrate and Becoming Bio, the substrates of technology and biology, plus Diamond Foundry, whose skeptics saw only synthetic rings while the founder saw industrial diamonds and wafers for AI and crypto. She wants semiconductor manufacturing back in the Americas, is watching AI companion devices race toward a genuinely useful Tamagotchi, and keeps a standing public request for the Alibaba of the Americas. She avoids today’s hot hypercompetitive deals because the alpha lives in what is coming, nanotech, biotech, and the bottlenecks AI removes, not what is hot now. Her inspirations: Peter Thiel, her partner for four years at what she calls Peter Thiel University, whom she defends as tolerant, open-minded, and poorly understood; Marc Andreessen, the teenage hero she vowed to meet as an equal and eventually did; Scott Cook of Intuit, her gold standard of executive function and decency; and Rick Rubin, the one mind she compares to her own, whom she is putting out into the universe a request to meet. The closing stretch is a defense of curiosity over tribalism: go to the Thiel events, hear all sides before deciding where you stand, stop diluting real words like racism through overuse, and protect the two canaries of a free nation, comedy and rap music. Free speech, she says, is her number one cause.

    Notable Quotes

    “Banisters, I need you to dig through your couches. Anything liquid you have, I need it. SpaceX needs it.”

    Luke Nosek’s pitch, as retold by Cyan Banister, describing the night that led to her first angel check

    “Luke and Scott convinced me to put everything that I made in IronPort when we sold to Cisco into SpaceX.”

    Cyan Banister, on going all in while SpaceX rockets were still blowing up on the launch pad

    “You can actually surgically go in and alter your personality where you can actually change these things, but it takes effort and time and a lot of facing the ugly truth about yourself.”

    Cyan Banister, rejecting the idea that personality is fixed

    “Meditation is about noticing the thoughts and noticing that they’re going by like clouds and then noticing that you’re noticing. So who is that person? So if you are not your thoughts then who are you is where I would start.”

    Cyan Banister, on the five minute practice she prescribes to stuck founders

    “When you ask why about everything in the world, it’s just going to make you a better investor. It’s going to make you a better entrepreneur, a better everything.”

    Cyan Banister, on humans as why machines and the habit behind her Uber and Niantic bets

    “I always say it’s the closest we’ve come to world peace. It was one of the most magical few weeks of my life and probably many people’s lives.”

    Cyan Banister, on the launch of Pokemon Go

    “I’ve got to try to find things at lower prices that are still a moonshot that I can get a good percentage of ownership like a good seed fund should do.”

    Cyan Banister, on why she avoids hypercompetitive hot deals where the alpha is already gone

    “If you get invited to a Peter Thiel event, go. Do not shy away from it. It does not make you anything that anyone’s going to accuse you of.”

    Cyan Banister, on curiosity versus shame by association

    “You can tell the health of a nation by its ability to tolerate comedy and rap music. Those two things have to exist for freedom.”

    Cyan Banister, on the canaries of free speech, her number one cause

    Watch the full conversation with Cyan Banister on the Sourcery podcast here.

    Related Reading

    • Cyan Banister (Wikipedia) background on her path from homelessness to one of the most successful angel investors in the world.
    • Long Journey Ventures the “magically weird” seed fund she co-founded, home of the bellwether and the second believer candles.
    • Luke Nosek (Wikipedia) the PayPal co-founder and Founders Fund co-founder whose couch-digging pitch started it all.
    • The Creative Act by Rick Rubin, the book behind the openness-to-the-universe mindset Banister says mirrors her own.
    • Purpose (PJFP) our pillar page on building the kind of why-driven daily practice Banister describes.

  • The Next 3 Years of AI, According to Steve Jurvetson: Moore’s Law, Superintelligence Odds, Elon Musk’s Operating Principles, and Where the Legendary SpaceX and Tesla Investor Is Betting Next

    Steve Jurvetson has spent 30 years funding the future before it was a category: an early check into SpaceX when space was not a venture sector, Tesla before electric cars were taken seriously, and now a portfolio spanning fusion, analog AI chips, and epigenetic editing at his firm Future Ventures. In this fireside chat he lays out what the next three years of AI actually look like, the three principles he has learned from working alongside Elon Musk for nearly three decades, the question he uses to separate missionary founders from opportunists, and why he thinks alignment of frontier AI systems may simply not be possible.

    TLDW

    Jurvetson argues the 130-year exponential in compute per dollar (Ray Kurzweil’s abstraction of Moore’s Law from his book The Age of Spiritual Machines) will keep running for at least three more years, carried by analog and custom AI silicon, and that this compounding is what makes startups and disruption possible at all. His gut says the next big leap will be “architecturally variant”: a new generation of labs going back to DeepMind’s founding premise of reinforcement learning, continuous learning, and novelty-seeking goal functions rather than bigger LLMs. He relays Anthropic co-founder Jack Clark’s 30 percent odds of superintelligence within a year but notes the crucial missing piece is that humans still set every goal. Adoption will be wildly uneven: anything made of atoms (cars, robots) switches over glacially, while creative work and white-collar categories like call centers (roughly 1 percent of US GDP) flip almost instantly. From Musk he draws three lessons: insane focus and saying no, maniacal attention to the cycle time of learning loops (Tesla gathers more AI training data every 4 days than Waymo has in its entire history), and being a magnet for talent by selling a grander mission. He explains Future Ventures’ current bets (fusion, free diagnostics via phone, slaughter-free meat, epigenetic editing, critical minerals, analog in-memory compute), tells solo founders their 30-day plan is to find a co-founder, predicts a turbulent transition to abundance, doubts Neuralink can keep pace with AI, dismisses Penrose’s quantum consciousness argument, and frames the post-work question with Man's Search for Meaning: humans need symbolic immortality, not just employment.

    Thoughts

    The most load-bearing claim in this conversation is not about scaling laws, it is about architecture. Jurvetson is telling you where the smart contrarian money is looking: away from ever-larger language models and back toward reinforcement learning agents with continuous learning and self-generated goals, the original DeepMind thesis that got shelved when LLMs took off. His framing of the open problem is unusually precise. The recursive self-improvement loops everyone is excited about are real, but every one of them is still human-directed. The goal-setting layer, what he calls the selection pressure of the evolutionary algorithm, is the “thin veneer of activity” AI does not yet do, and it happens to be the layer where superintelligence either does or does not arrive. That is a much sharper way to track AGI progress than benchmark scores: watch who cracks autonomous goal formation, not who tops a leaderboard.

    Almost everything else Jurvetson says reduces to a single metric: the cycle time of the learning loop. It is his explanation for Musk’s edge (launch cadence, the Tesla fleet as a data-collection machine), his filter for which industries flip fast (bits iterate at machine speed, atoms are stuck with 11-to-12-year car replacement cycles and FDA timelines), and even his bear case on Neuralink, which he has invested in. Biology cannot iterate at synthetic speed, so the substrate that learns fastest wins. Once you see the pattern, it becomes a genuinely useful lens for evaluating any company, career, or technology: ask how fast the loop spins, not how impressive the current artifact is.

    The aside that deserves the most attention is his flat statement that mechanistic interpretability will not bear fruit and that control and alignment of a cutting-edge system is not possible. His reasoning is structural, not rhetorical: anything produced by an iterative algorithm run billions of times (evolution, neural network training) is inherently inscrutable, and it will always be easier to build a new intelligence than to reverse engineer one you already made. He swaps “teenager” for “AI” whenever he thinks about control, which is funny until you notice he is one of the most connected investors in the Musk orbit saying the safety agenda rests on a false premise. Sitting that next to the 30 percent superintelligence odds he cites from Jack Clark produces an uncomfortable arithmetic that nobody on stage follows to its conclusion.

    For builders, the practical gold is the 50-year question. Ask a founder what their business looks like in 50 years: the opportunist laughs at the question, the missionary is relieved someone finally asked. Paired with his other filters (if only two out of ten people think your idea is crazy it is not bold enough, and a good business is one that could not have been started three years ago), it doubles as a hiring screen and a self-diagnostic. And his 30-day plan for a solo founder is refreshingly unglamorous: do not build the MVP, do not pitch investors, go persuade one person to give up their job and join you. If you cannot recruit a co-founder, that is the market’s first answer about your idea.

    Key Takeaways

    • Jurvetson invested early in SpaceX and Tesla precisely because space and automotive were not venture categories at all; a software-centric systems engineering approach applied to a sleepy industry that has not changed in decades unlocks enormous value, and that playbook is now rippling through every industry.
    • The Kurzweil curve plots 130 years of compute per dollar across five substrates (mechanical, relay, vacuum tube, discrete transistor, integrated circuit) and shows a 10,000 billion billion X improvement; Jurvetson calls it the most important thing ever graphed.
    • Customers buy compute capacity and memory, not transistors, and both have been “on rails” for 130 years; the default prediction for the next three years is simply that the curve keeps going.
    • When an incumbent declares Moore’s Law dead, it usually signals they are losing their business to someone new, as Intel was to Nvidia 15 years ago.
    • Analog chips and customized AI silicon that do discrete matrix multiply-and-add extremely efficiently will carry the mantle of Moore’s Law over the next three years.
    • Without exponential technological change there would be no startups: if business is predictable, the big get bigger and incumbents block new entrants; disruption is almost always computationally based.
    • Over the next three years AI ripples through energy, agriculture, and construction: three enormous industries that are growing as a percentage of GDP and are the least digitized on the planet, with healthcare close behind.
    • His gut says the next driver will be architecturally variant, possibly subsuming today’s models the way mixture of experts subsumes other architectures or massively parallel diffusion models reinterpret the transformer.
    • A whole new generation of neural labs is returning to the founding premise of DeepMind: reinforcement learning with continuous learning, let loose on the internet’s data sets, hunting for the algorithm that bootstraps intelligence.
    • The open question for these systems is the goal function: what plays the role of evolutionary selection pressure? Candidates include understanding the universe (the xAI mission) or a novelty-seeking algorithm that uses new discoveries as its measure of progress.
    • Jack Clark, co-founder of Anthropic, gives roughly 30 percent odds that superintelligence arrives within a year; Jurvetson declines to put odds on it himself and admits “I do not know” is the honest answer.
    • Today’s self-improving AI loops (automated verification, hyperparameter adjustment between training runs, AI-mediated experimentation) are real but still human-directed; goal setting remains the thin veneer AI does not do, and it may be the most important layer.
    • Human intelligence was bootstrapped on top of reactive limbic systems and emotional centers with cortex layered on top; it is an open philosophical question whether AI systems need to recapitulate that functional specialization to take on purpose and meaning.
    • Anything involving atoms switches over slowly: fully autonomous vehicles are inevitable (every car, train, and airplane), but people keep cars 11 to 12 years, so the physical swap-out cycle makes the transition feel glacial.
    • Physical robotics faces the same constraint: making a billion robots takes time even with recursive manufacturing techniques.
    • The domains that flip like wildfire are the ones we held as uniquely human: creative arts, moviemaking, and imagery came first, which Jurvetson finds somewhat shocking.
    • Call centers represent roughly 1 percent of US GDP and can switch over almost entirely and almost instantly; white-collar work generally has no physical swap-out cycle to slow it down.
    • People will increasingly prefer AI to human interactions when the AI is better: studies of physician bedside manner and customer service already show AIs doing a better job with emotional connection than humans.
    • Musk principle one is an insane ability to focus: running many companies forces ruthless prioritization, and he says no to anything that is not mission-critical right now, including a Craig Venter brainstorm on terraforming Mars because “none of this stuff on Mars matters” until Starship flies.
    • Musk principle two, the most important: maniacal focus on the cycle time of innovation, the core learning loop, whether launch cadence or fleet data; Tesla cameras gather more AI training data every 4 days than Waymo has collected in its entire history, because every vehicle collects data whether or not the customer paid for full self-driving.
    • Musk principle three: being a magnet for talent, screening for mastery by drilling into engineering crises a candidate actually solved rather than leaning on credentials (which are often an albatross), and framing the company as something grander (sustainable energy, multi-planetary humanity, understanding the universe) so the best people want to join.
    • Jurvetson filters founders with one question: what does your business look like in 50 years? Opportunists chuckle at the absurdity; missionaries are relieved and finally tell you what has been driving them all along. He passes on the ones who laugh.
    • The best startups hold two things in tension simultaneously: an audacious 50-to-500-year vision and a concrete plan to iterate with real customers over the next three years, chaining backward from the future to what must be built now.
    • The perpetual surprise of great companies is expanding option value: autonomous driving was nowhere in Tesla’s founding plan, and Starlink, direct-to-cell, and orbital data centers were not on SpaceX’s dance card even five years ago. Exploring the option space beats purposeful ten-year planning.
    • Future Ventures invests in things unlike anything they have seen before yet adjacent to what they know, ideally companies that are literally one of a kind.
    • Current bets include nuclear fusion and subcritical fusion that avoids NRC regulation, because energy is the third bottleneck for AI after talent and compute.
    • Other 500-year-problem bets: free healthcare via a cell phone (all diagnostics as a free global service, probably launching outside the US to bypass FDA and insurance), slaughter-free meat via cellular agriculture and mycelium, and construction, where labor productivity has been flat for 30 years.
    • Recent investments span epigenetic editing (the software of biology rather than the firmware of the genome, applied to crops, pesticides, and human health), critical minerals from deep sea mining to copper refining, and reshoring US industrial capacity.
    • Three separate analog AI chip investments approach the same goal from different angles, including Mythic’s in-memory compute doing 8-bit multiplication in a single transistor, each chasing 100X and then another 100X reduction in power per calculation.
    • The portfolio is roughly 40 percent life sciences and 60 percent IT, deliberately hunting the weird edge cases that fall through the cracks of traditional pharma VC: organ harvesting for transplant, a male birth control pill, dramatically improved IVF.
    • Old industries with no new entrants are the best targets: the four largest tunnel boring companies competing with the Boring Company were all started in the 1800s.
    • The 30-day plan for a single person with an idea: find a co-founder. Great startups tend to have a dynamic duo at the founding (Jobs and Wozniak, Sergey Brin and Larry Page, Larry Ellison and Bob Miner), and persuading one person to quit their job for your mission is the first real test of the idea.
    • A founding pair with diverse backgrounds and mutual respect sets the culture for everyone hired afterward and creates cognitive diversity that ripples through the whole firm.
    • Calibrate boldness by the crazy ratio: if 100 percent of people say your idea is crazy, take the feedback; nine out of ten is pretty good; if only two out of ten think it is crazy, it is not bold enough. Also ask whether the business could have been started three years ago; if yes, that is a bad sign.
    • Co-founders most often meet at universities, one of the few places where people cross academic disciplines; breakthrough innovation happens at the interstices between formally discrete fields, and LLMs are exceptionally good at exactly that cross-domain translation, opening a fountainhead of idea discovery.
    • Roughly 19 percent of global employment involves driving vehicles, and that work is going away, just more slowly than people imagine.
    • Humans have a fundamental desire for symbolic immortality: contributing something that outlasts our brief time here, whether children, books, philanthropy, or companies. Accumulated cultural knowledge, not biology, is the primary vector of human evolutionary progress.
    • There is no peaceful path from full employment to no employment: passing through 30, 40, 50 percent unemployment will be turbulent, and no politicians are taking a long-term perspective on it.
    • On Neuralink (which he invested in): expanding the sensory periphery is very doable (higher data rates, restoring hearing and spinal function, seeing more wavelengths), but upgrading core intelligence requires reverse engineering an inscrutable iterated system, and biology’s FDA-and-wetware timescales cannot keep up with synthetic learning loops.
    • Any product of an iterative algorithm run billions of times (evolution, neural networks, genetic programming) is inherently inscrutable; Jurvetson doubts mechanistic interpretability will bear fruit and does not think control or alignment of a cutting-edge AI system is possible, likening it to mind-controlling a teenager.
    • On Penrose’s quantum consciousness argument: there is no clear mechanism and no evidence of quantum processes in the brain, and arguments that consciousness requires our specific substrate are uncompelling; machines may one day have consciousness, just not necessarily human consciousness, the same way computer memory is real memory without being human memory.

    Detailed Summary

    Betting on Sectors That Do Not Exist Yet

    Asked what he saw in SpaceX that other investors missed, Jurvetson flips the question: there were almost no investors even considering space, just as automotive and nuclear energy were not venture sectors. The bet was on Elon Musk, whom he has known for 29 years and backed across all his companies (“and his cousins, too”), and on a thesis that has since crystallized: a software-centric systems engineering approach applied to a sleepy industry that has not changed in decades unlocks extraordinary value. Aerospace and automotive proved it, and the same conversion of industrial low-margin businesses into information businesses is now playing out across the economy.

    The 130-Year Compute Curve and the Next 3 Years

    Jurvetson polls the room on Kurzweil’s famous graph, first published around 1999, and finds only a quarter have seen what he calls the most important thing ever graphed: five successive technology substrates delivering a 10,000 billion billion X improvement in the computation a dollar buys, sustained over 130 years. Moore’s Law is just the most recent refraction of a longer, almost cosmological trend that transcends the dramas of individual companies. His baseline prediction for the next three years is that the curve keeps going, carried by analog chips and custom AI silicon optimized for matrix math, and he notes that when a company like Intel declares the end of Moore’s Law, it usually means they are losing to someone new, as they did to Nvidia. The deeper point: exponential technological change is the precondition for startups existing at all, because predictable business favors incumbents. AI is the most intense crucible of compute-centric innovation yet, and over the next three years it flows into energy, agriculture, construction, and healthcare, the largest and least digitized sectors.

    Architecturally Variant: The Return of Reinforcement Learning

    Pressed on what technology drives the next wave (better LLMs, world models, robotics), Jurvetson shares a gut feeling he stresses he has not yet invested in: something architecturally variant that may subsume today’s models. He points to a new generation of neural labs returning to DeepMind’s founding premise, reinforcement learning, which was set aside when LLMs took off. The open design problem is the goal function: what is the multi-decade agentic drive, the selection pressure, the definition of success beyond reproductive fitness? He floats understanding the universe (the Grok and xAI framing) and novelty-seeking algorithms that treat new discoveries as progress. The question these labs chase is whether a single reinforcement learning algorithm with continuous learning, let loose on the internet’s data, could bootstrap intelligence. He adds a caution about today’s chatbots: we ascribe consciousness and meaning where there is none. “There’s no light on inside,” at least for now.

    Superintelligence Odds and the Missing Goal-Setting Layer

    On whether self-directed, goal-setting AI arrives within three years, Jurvetson cites Jack Clark of Anthropic giving 30 percent odds of superintelligence next year, which he finds fun mostly because at least someone put a stake in the ground. The recursive self-improvement debate is live, but he insists on a distinction: the huge improvements in the current self-improving loop (automated verification, hyperparameter tuning between runs, AI-mediated experimentation) are all still directed by humans. Goal setting remains human, and while that may be only a thin veneer of remaining activity, it is arguably the most important part, and nobody is sure how the transition happens. It may require recapitulating the brain’s functional specialization, the limbic-then-cortex layering that produced our bootstrapped consciousness. His honest answer: he does not know and does not even have odds, because three years out is genuinely hard to predict.

    Atoms Move Slowly, Bits Sweep Like Wildfire

    The gap between what the technology can do and how we use it is governed by physics and replacement cycles. Fully autonomous vehicles are, to him, obviously inevitable for everything that moves on Earth, yet cars stay on the road 11 to 12 years, so the switchover feels glacial; a billion robots likewise take time to manufacture. What flips fast is the world of bits, and strangely it started with what we considered most human: creative arts, movies, and images. White-collar work follows because there is no physical swap-out cycle: call centers, about 1 percent of US GDP, can convert almost overnight. And people will increasingly prefer the AI when it is better, showing more emotional understanding and better reading of the situation, something already visible in comparisons of physician bedside manner and customer service quality.

    Three Principles from Working with Elon Musk

    Jurvetson opens with humility (even Maye Musk cannot explain how Elon became Elon, and the books piling up on his bedside table may not have been written by humans), but offers three observations from close range. First, an insane ability to focus. Running multiple companies paradoxically helps: nobody questions Elon skipping a holiday party, and he says no to fascinating distractions, including Jurvetson’s attempt to connect him with Craig Venter to brainstorm terraforming Mars with gene sequencers. Musk’s answer: none of it matters until Starship flies. Second, and even more important, a maniacal focus on the cycle time of innovation: how fast the core learning loop runs, whether launch cadence or fleet learning. The Tesla data flywheel is the exemplar: every car collects training data whether or not the owner paid for FSD, so Tesla gathers more data every 4 days than Waymo has in its history. Third, a well-honed talent stack: pattern recognition that ignores credentials (often an albatross), drills candidates on the engineering crises they actually navigated to test for real mastery, and wraps the company in a mission grand enough (sustainable energy, multi-planetary life, understanding the universe) that the best people want in, which compounds because great people attract great people.

    The 50-Year Question and Expanding Option Value

    How do founders stay true to a mission when 99 percent of the world says it is too early? Jurvetson admits selection bias: for 30 years he has tried to back only people with a sincere, almost messianic mission rather than arbitrage-seeking opportunists. His filter is to ask what the business looks like in 50 years. Opportunists laugh (“I’ll be on my third startup by then”); the best founders are relieved to finally unload the dream they have been hiding because “colonizing Mars is an uninvestable proposition” as a day-one pitch. The best startups pair an audacious 50-to-500-year vision with a plausible path of customer iteration over the next three years, chaining backward from the future. What still surprises him is how the option value of frontier companies keeps expanding: autonomous driving was not in Tesla’s founding plan at all, and SpaceX kept unfolding from cheap launch to Starlink to direct-to-cell to orbital data centers, none of which was on the dance card five years ago. Exploring the light cone of possibilities beats designing a ten-year plan.

    Where Future Ventures Is Betting Now

    The firm looks for companies unlike anything it has seen before yet adjacent to familiar ground, targeting problems that will obviously be solved 500 years from now. In energy: multiple fusion investments plus subcritical fusion that sidesteps NRC regulation, because energy is the third bottleneck for AI after people and compute. In health: free diagnostic healthcare delivered by cell phone as a global free service, likely launched outside the US to bypass FDA and reimbursement. In food: slaughter-free meat via cellular agriculture and mycelium. In construction: still looking, after trying and failing a few times in an industry where labor productivity has been flat for 30 years. Recent themes include epigenetic editing (the software of biology rather than the firmware of the genome, spanning crop health, pesticides, herbicides, and human health), critical minerals and metals from deep sea mining to copper refining as part of reshoring, and three separate analog AI chip bets, including Mythic’s in-memory compute doing 8-bit multiplication in a single transistor, each chasing successive 100X reductions in power per calculation. The mix runs about 40 percent life sciences, 60 percent IT, with a taste for the weird edge: organs grown for transplant, a male birth control pill, radically improved IVF. His favorite hunting ground is old, crappy industries with no new entrants, like tunnel boring, where the Boring Company’s four largest competitors were founded in the 1800s.

    Advice for Founders: Find Your Batman and Robin

    His 30-day plan for a single person with an idea is not an MVP or a pitch deck: find a co-founder. Startups tend to be founded by dynamic duos (Jobs and Wozniak, Sergey Brin and Larry Page, Larry Ellison and the lesser-known Bob Miner), and a pair with diverse backgrounds and mutual respect creates a rapid iteration loop and sets the cultural template for every future hire. Persuading one person to quit their job for your crazy idea is the first proof the mission can recruit. On calibrating craziness: if literally everyone thinks the idea is crazy, take the feedback; nine out of ten is pretty good; only two out of ten means it is not bold enough, because obvious ideas get done by others. Ask whether the business could have been started three years ago; the right answer is no. Co-founders most often meet at universities, where students (unlike professors in their stovepipes) cross-pollinate between academic disciplines, and breakthrough innovation lives at those interstices. As an aside, he notes LLMs excel at exactly this translation between domains, opening a new fountainhead of idea discovery we are only beginning to tap.

    When Machines Do Everything: Meaning, Abundance, and Turbulence

    Asked the closing question (when machines do everything, what is the meaning of life?), Jurvetson starts with scale: roughly 19 percent of global employment is driving vehicles, and it is going away. But humans want meaningful work, driven by what he calls a fundamental desire for symbolic immortality: children, books, philanthropy, companies named after founders, all instantiations of the urge to contribute something that outlasts us. Translating the question into humanity’s mission statement, he lands where Yuri Milner and Musk do: to understand the universe and add to accumulated knowledge, because culture, not biology, is the primary vector of human evolutionary progress. If we could hyperspace-jump to Peter Diamandis-style abundance, where everything physical costs a dollar a pound and machines do all labor, we could all be philosopher kings and artists. But he refuses to end on false comfort: there is no visible peaceful path from full employment through 30, 40, 50 percent unemployment, that transition will be turbulent, and no politicians are taking a long-term view of it.

    Neuralink, Inscrutable Systems, and the Alignment Heresy

    In audience Q&A, Jurvetson confirms he invested in Neuralink (the idea traces to the neural lace of Iain M. Banks’ novel Surface Detail, which he recommends) but offers a contrarian view. Working from the periphery is very promising: restoring broken function, fixing spinal cords, expanding senses, higher-bandwidth communication. Upgrading core functionality, actually making someone smarter, is another matter. His reasoning comes from decades of watching complex systems: any artifact produced by an iterative algorithm run billions of times (evolution, neural networks, genetic programming, cellular automata) is inherently inscrutable. That is why he doubts mechanistic interpretability will bear fruit and flatly does not think control and alignment are possible for a cutting-edge AI system; he mentally swaps “teenager” for “AI” whenever the control question comes up. The same inscrutability applies to the brain: it will be easier to build a new intelligence than to reverse engineer one already made, and FDA cycles plus human biology cannot iterate at the speed of synthetic learning loops, so he lacks faith Neuralink keeps up with AI. Kurzweil’s uploading dream, he suggests, is a case of wanting something to be true within one’s lifetime.

    Penrose, Quantum Brains, and Machine Consciousness

    On Roger Penrose’s argument that consciousness depends on quantum processes and is therefore unreachable by AI, Jurvetson is respectful of the man and dismissive of the claim: there is no clear mechanism (a speculative lithium isotope coupling aside), and it amounts to wishful thinking. Generalizing, he finds all vitalist arguments that our substrate is uniquely necessary uncompelling; you could make a better case that carbon is special to life than that neurons are essential to consciousness. His favorite reframe swaps in the word memory: computers have memory that is nothing like holographic, gracefully degrading human memory, yet nobody debates whether computer memory is real. Machines may likewise develop a different kind of consciousness without human consciousness. Declaring something impossible is a much higher-order proposition than admitting ignorance, so his position is: he does not know whether the current AI path leads to consciousness, but his gut says machines will get there one day, perhaps via evolution-like reinforcement learning approaches that recapitulate what biology already proved possible.

    Notable Quotes

    “I have this gut feeling that it’ll be something architecturally variant. It might subsume the models that we know now.”

    Steve Jurvetson, on what drives the next three years of AI

    “It’s almost cosmological. Like, why has humanity’s capacity to compute compounded for 130 years?”

    Steve Jurvetson, on the Kurzweil abstraction of Moore’s Law

    “If business is predictable, if there isn’t disruptive technological change, the big get bigger.”

    Steve Jurvetson, on why exponential compute is the precondition for startups

    “The Tesla cars today in their cameras gather for their AI training set more data every 4 days than Waymo has in its entire history.”

    Steve Jurvetson, on the data flywheel behind Musk’s learning-loop obsession

    “If it’s like only two people think it’s crazy, that’s bad because it’s clearly not bold enough. If it’s an obvious idea, other people will do it.”

    Steve Jurvetson, on calibrating how crazy a startup idea should be

    “Despite attempts at mechanistic interpretability in AI, I don’t think that’s going to bear fruit.”

    Steve Jurvetson, on why iterated systems are inherently inscrutable

    “It’d be easier to build a new intelligence than it is to reverse engineer one you’ve made.”

    Steve Jurvetson, on why he doubts Neuralink can keep pace with AI

    “I think all humans have a fundamental desire for symbolic immortality, this belief that we’ve contributed something to the world that transcends our brief time on this world.”

    Steve Jurvetson, on the meaning of life when machines do everything

    “It’s much higher order proposition to say something is impossible than to say I don’t know.”

    Steve Jurvetson, on whether AI can ever be conscious

    Watch the full conversation here: The Next 3 Years of AI: Lessons from Elon Musk’s First Investor.

    Related Reading

  • Jeremy Giffon on the Billion Dollar PDF, Peak Guy, and How Attention Became the New Capital

    In his second appearance on Invest Like the Best, investor Jeremy Giffon sits down with Patrick O’Shaughnessy for a wide-ranging conversation about how power, status, capital, and attention are being redrawn in real time. The organizing idea is the “billion dollar PDF,” the notion that a single well-timed document or post can crystallize a narrative and pull billions of dollars of capital toward it. From there the two range across the mechanics of the X timeline as market infrastructure, the decline of the billionaire class, the rise of the “poaster,” the economics of software in the age of compute, and what the next era of finance looks like when its founding act is seed investing rather than the leveraged buyout.

    TLDW

    Giffon argues that in private markets the real great filter for funds is storytelling, because the actual product (realized cash returns) takes a decade, so narrative is what you sell in the meantime. He and O’Shaughnessy unpack the “billion dollar PDF,” the way X functions as a single global newspaper (the uni-feed) that prices securities, dictates policy, and builds businesses, and how power laws now mean breaking containment on the timeline is worth more than steady performance. They discuss “peak guy” and the exhaustion of billionaire worship, the idea that the poaster has become the new priestly class, net worth as a surprisingly modern invention, and attention as the genuinely scarce asset. The back half turns practical: why AI job fears meet Giffon’s view that most white collar work is invented, why software is shifting from selling zero-marginal-cost strings to selling compute with thin margins and huge scale, why beating the market is easier for amateurs than professionals, how to underwrite emerging managers by studying the person, the feudal economics of SPVs and allocations, simplicity over complexity in investing, hiring through divisive job descriptions, and the hidden philosophers (from effective altruism to Curtis Yarvin and Nick Land) shaping Silicon Valley. Topics span venture capital, private equity, cap tables, SaaS, the Mag 7, Buffett and Bogle, East Coast versus West Coast finance, and the search for vocation.

    Thoughts

    The strongest thread in this conversation is that scarcity has moved. For most of the modern era, money was the scarce thing and attention was the byproduct of having it. Giffon flips that. Capital is now abundant, inflationary, and desperate for somewhere to go, which is why he can describe businesses and asset categories as “sponges” that get created downstream of capital rather than the other way around. What is actually scarce is a fixed slice of human attention, and whoever can command it (the “billion dollar PDF,” the breakout post, the person every billionaire wants to sit next to at dinner) captures the resource that money is now chasing. That reframing explains a lot of otherwise strange behavior, including why founders who already have wealth turn to posting, podcasting, and fame. They are not being vain. They are hedging out of a depreciating asset into the one that still appreciates.

    The most uncomfortable and clarifying claim is that narrative is not a distortion of markets, it is the market. Giffon walks through how the algorithm, driven by AI, selects which stories get shown, those stories set the consensus among the small group of posters who move capital, and securities get priced off that consensus. If you take that seriously, the efficient market hypothesis looks quaint. The marginal price of a security is being set, in part, by what an entertainment-optimizing model decided to surface to a few hundred thousand influential readers that morning. His line that “every other day someone writes some pornographic fanfic about AI and it moves the public markets” is a joke that is also a fairly precise description of 2026 price discovery.

    His software thesis deserves more attention than the culture commentary that will get clipped. The old SaaS miracle was selling copies of a string at near-zero marginal cost, which mechanically produced high gross margins. Giffon’s point is that the AI era sells compute, and you cannot write the prompt once and resell the output, so the marginal cost is no longer zero. The consequence is a structural regime change: lower gross margins, thinner net margins, and returns that accrue overwhelmingly to scale. He calls it a Walmart effect in software, and if he is right, a lot of the current sell-off in SaaS names is punishing the business model rather than the businesses, which is exactly the kind of nuance-free repricing he says markets specialize in.

    The optimistic surprise is his stance on AI and jobs, which cuts against the doom consensus without being naive about the short term. He concedes the near and medium term could be genuinely bad, but he refuses the “we will run out of jobs” framing because he thinks most white collar work is already invented to absorb our attention and capital, not to meet basic needs. Work-from-home Fridays, in his telling, are a quiet admission that many people have two or three hours of real work a day. If that is true, then automating the invented work is liberation rather than catastrophe, provided the transition does not crush people in the process. It is a bracing counterweight to the standard displacement panic, and it pairs well with his more personal note that the antidote to a priestly-class culture of looking outward for permission is the duty to steward your own gifts.

    The one place to push back is the tidiness of the “poaster as new priest” story. Giffon is careful to say he is describing, not endorsing, but the argument that status simply passes from scientists to billionaires to posters is cleaner than reality usually allows. Attention is scarce, yes, but it is also fickle and lotteryified in his own telling, which makes it a shaky foundation for a durable priestly class. Still, the underlying observation is sharp: when money becomes a “state of mind” label rather than a hard number, and when net worth itself is revealed as a recent invention (his Pride and Prejudice aside about Mr. Darcy’s income being cash flow, not a valuation, is the best illustration in the episode), the leaderboard everyone is actually competing on is real estate in other people’s minds.

    Key Takeaways

    • The great filter for private-market funds is storytelling ability, because the real product (realized cash returns) takes a decade, so narrative is what a fund actually sells in the interim through updates, events, and LP conversations.
    • The same business can be “cold” at seven years and $8 million in revenue but “hot” if you reset the clock and retell the story, so being flexible on narrative is itself a fix for a funding problem.
    • Insider bridge rounds are often surprisingly hostile (3x liquidation preferences, warrants, ratchets), and being extractive to the downside gets you booed while being extractive to the upside (pro rata rights) gets celebrated, even though both are similarly extractive.
    • In highly volatile times, optionality beats commitment: raise less, raise from investors with a wide mandate, and keep the ability to pivot the business model, run profitably, acquire, or even fire customers.
    • The “billion dollar PDF” is the idea that someone crystallizes a notion at the right time and it becomes the foundational viewpoint of an era, and capital follows it around like ten-year-olds chasing a soccer ball.
    • X is the “uni-feed”: everyone is served the same roughly 500 tweets a day across hundreds of millions of users, making it the global newspaper and a source of truth for capital markets, politics, and technology.
    • Institutions now survive only if they are “timeline native,” meaning reactive to and reflexive with the timeline, which describes the White House, venture capital, and public equities alike.
    • Posting has been lotteryified: a brand-new account can write one good post and get shown to hundreds of millions, so posting is described as the last great meritocracy.
    • Power laws have sharpened. Variance used to be low, but now breaking “containment” on the timeline means briefly taking over the world’s brain, and those few breakout events dwarf everything else combined.
    • Podcasts still underrate serving the algorithm; the video is recorded first for an LLM to review and decide whether to show, and only then do humans judge it.
    • A great post blends comedy, poetry, and writing, and great posters tend to be a bit tortured, closer to writers mixed with comedians.
    • “Peak guy”: society keeps searching for a priestly class, moved from scientists to the billionaire class, and Giffon thinks it has now moved to the poaster class, with billionaires increasingly deferential to posters.
    • Billionaire worship is exhausted partly because billionaires are far less scarce (state-of-mind billionaires have grown maybe 100x in 20 years) and money is less powerful than assumed, as the donor class has underperformed politically.
    • Net worth is a very new idea. In Pride and Prejudice, Mr. Darcy’s wealth is his estate’s annual cash flow, not a valuation, because no one would DCF or margin-loan an estate they would never sell.
    • “Billionaire,” like “millionaire” before it, is becoming a loose political and class label only tangentially related to actual liquid, inflation-adjusted wealth.
    • The most honest way to consume media is to admit it is entertainment, produced, selected, and edited to entertain, not to learn, no matter how productive it feels.
    • Going months off the timeline taught Giffon that you do not really miss anything; the filtered, secondhand version from smart people at dinner may be the most enlightened way to consume it.
    • On AI and jobs, the short to medium term could be bad, but the long-run worry is overblown because most white collar jobs are “made up” and not contingent on shelter, food, or medicine.
    • Work-from-home enthusiasm is evidence that many people have only two or three hours of real work a day, so work-from-home Fridays are a soft launch of the four day work week.
    • We have a moral duty to steward our gifts; the thing you spend most of your time on should spark and utilize your genius, and having fun at your job is a strong signal you have combined the two.
    • The largest finance firms (KKR, Blackstone, Apollo) were founded in a leveraged-buyout culture that is debt-driven and extractive; the next era’s giants may be founded on seed investing, which is equity-driven, optimistic, and qualitative.
    • West Coast venture is “eating” the East Coast: it created the biggest businesses in the world and functions as a civilizational technology, giving young people speculative capital with little downside.
    • Compensation has flipped: Silicon Valley now pays large liquid cash via mature secondary markets and yearly tenders, while Wall Street increasingly pays in RSUs tied to long-term firm value.
    • SaaS is just a business model, and while it is in trouble, that is often not what actually matters to a business being sold off out of fear.
    • Software is moving from selling near-zero-marginal-cost strings to selling compute, which means lower gross margins, razor-thin net margins, and returns accruing to scale, a Walmart effect in software.
    • Capital gets “blocked” when there are not enough great companies to absorb it, so high-capex AI and hardware categories arose in part as sponges for capital with nowhere else to go.
    • Markets lack nuance: the 52-week variance on the biggest companies is nearly 100%, so they are not priced well, and much private-market pricing reflects fund incentive structures rather than business quality.
    • Beating the market is easier for amateurs than professionals. Buffett’s S&P advice is for the average person, while pros are constrained by mandates, customers, and career risk (the Peter Lynch point).
    • A small principal writing a 500k check is the wrong customer for a large growth fund built to serve sovereigns and endowments; emerging managers, tightly aligned to returns, are underrated for that check.
    • Underwrite the person, not just the thesis. A manager’s personal financial situation matters enormously, and whether they are “looking up” or “looking down” at the fund size changes how they behave.
    • Modern finance is recreating a feudal system where lab founders (Elon, Zuckerberg, Dario, Sam) grant allocations like landed estates, and holders charge fees on this synthetic, purely relational, sometimes perpetual product.
    • The most generative activity is conversation, downstream of relationships, and being tolerant of weird, unpredictable people is a media diet advantage; chatbots can feel generative without actually being so.
    • Investors overvalue complexity to look clever; you should either do something so complex no one else will, or keep it simple (be long Elon, buy big companies at their 200-week moving average), and the real gift is selling the simple idea.
    • Richard Rainwater’s test: pitch your thesis on one page and state what percentage of your net worth you will put in, then yes or no. It is hard precisely because it forces clarity and conviction.
    • A job description is a sales pitch and an interview baked into a post; divisive, ambiguous statements (like “an ideological minority at a top 10 school”) self-select the right people and disqualify the wrong ones.
    • Silicon Valley’s hidden philosophy is underrated: a neo-Buddhist utilitarianism feeds effective altruism, and thinkers like Nick Land, Curtis Yarvin, and William MacAskill shape the culture without being named.
    • Where 1980s Wall Street was pagan, hedonistic, and nakedly about money, today’s tech views itself as self-righteous and positive-sum, treating the business itself as the ultimate philanthropy, with no felt need to launder gains through art or culture.

    Detailed Summary

    The Billion Dollar PDF and Narrative-Driven Capital

    Giffon opens with what he has learned in his first 18 months running his own fund: in long-term private markets, the great filter is storytelling. Because a fund’s real product is realized cash returns that take a decade to arrive, what a manager sells in the meantime, through quarterly updates, events, and one-on-one LP conversations, is narrative. He describes situations where an older company that has recently inflected struggles to raise simply because its story (seven years old, $8 million in revenue) reads worse than the same numbers reframed as a two-year-old rocketship. The billion dollar PDF is the escalation of this: a single document or post that crystallizes the notion of an era, does not even have to be right, and pulls billions in capital toward it. Capital, he says, behaves like ten-year-olds playing soccer, all chasing the same ball.

    The Uni-Feed: X as Global Newspaper and Market Infrastructure

    The technological catalyst, in Giffon’s view, is the uni-feed. Everyone on X is served the same roughly 500 tweets a day, and the poster-to-lurker ratio is enormous, so people who do not post cannot feel the impact. X is the Lindy social network, unlikely to reach the scale of the others but filling a vital role as a global newspaper and near-source of truth. The most important people in capital markets, politics, entrepreneurship, and technology read it every morning, and it forms opinion, prices securities, and writes policy. Institutions survive only if they are timeline native, both reactive to the timeline and reflexive with it. Crucially, this is also where narratives get set, and the winning story is not a well-considered book but the most entertaining, novel, somewhat-correct thing, because people are on the timeline to be entertained and the algorithm selects for exactly that.

    Power Laws, Breaking Containment, and the LLM as First Filter

    O’Shaughnessy observes that variance used to be low, with the best performers only modestly ahead of the worst, and that this has changed completely. Now there is a threshold where breaching containment feels like taking over the world’s brain for a short window, and those handful of breakout events matter more than all the rest combined. Giffon attributes this to technology rather than any change in content or audience: RSS gave you a normal distribution, algorithms give you a power law. He notes that podcasts remain naive about serving the algorithm, unlike streamers and YouTubers, and delivers one of the episode’s sharpest structural points: the video is recorded first for an LLM to review and decide whether to show it, and only after that first, largely invisible filter do humans get to judge.

    Peak Guy: Billionaires, Priests, and the Poaster Class

    The “peak guy” segment is the episode’s philosophical core. Giffon traces how God moved from being in and around everything, to a guy above the clouds, to something conceptual and distant, leaving an ongoing search for priests. Society tried scientists, but the scientific project stalled and physics has not delivered meaning since the war, so status passed to a billionaire class treated as the new priesthood: successful at business, therefore smart and hardworking, therefore worth listening to on physics, theology, or health. That worship has now saturated. Billionaires are far less scarce, money looks less powerful (the donor class has underperformed politically), and a billionaire who posts the wrong thing has to resign where Andrew Carnegie could once take up arms. Giffon’s claim is that the priesthood has passed again, this time to the poaster, and you can see it in how the billionaire class defers to posters (his anecdote: billionaire investors fighting to sit next to Tyler Cowen because he was the most interesting person in the room).

    Net Worth as a Modern Invention and Attention as the New Scarcity

    Giffon frames net worth itself as a strikingly recent concept. In Pride and Prejudice, Mr. Darcy’s wealth is discussed as roughly 10,000 a year in cash flow from his estate, not as a valuation, because no one would sell the estate or borrow against it. Wealth as a mark-to-market number is new, and between illiquid private markets, net worth as a concept, and inflation, “billionaire” is becoming a loose label, much like “millionaire” already did. Since time is fixed, the new scarcity is attention you can draw on the screen, which is why founders who accrue wealth so predictably turn to posting, podcasts, and channels: partly to convert wealth into fame, partly because they sense money is depreciating and attention is what is actually scarce.

    Opting Out and Media as Entertainment

    Asked about going months off the timeline, Giffon’s takeaway is that you should not fool yourself that you are seeking anything other than entertainment. All of it is produced, selected, and edited to entertain, and just as Rolex or Nike can convince you a liability is an asset, posts and essays can convince you that consumption is productive. The question is simply how much you want to be entertained. He does not see the death of books as a crisis so much as a swan song for a technology that was the best way to deliver information until better, more compelling ways arrived, though he is careful to note the negative language we use (brain rot, terminally online) betrays a deeper sense that something is off. New media is less forgiving: better than ever for the disciplined, worse than ever for everyone else. His friend Jesse refuses all algorithms and simply lets people tell him what happened, which Giffon half-endorses as the most enlightened, filtered way to consume the radiation secondhand.

    AI, Fake Jobs, and Stewarding Your Gifts

    On AI and white collar displacement, Giffon concedes the short to medium term could be bad (he agrees with a friend who worries about kids in college but not the ten-year-old), but rejects the “peak jobs” panic. Anything that can be automated should be, and the prospect of never having to sit at a computer again strikes him as liberating. Most white collar jobs, he argues, are invented, not contingent on shelter, food, or medicine, and our economy runs on unquenchable desire, so we will simply invent new things to do. Work-from-home attachment is his evidence that many people have only a couple of hours of real work a day, making work-from-home Fridays a soft launch of the four day week. This connects to a more personal theme O’Shaughnessy draws out: the duty to steward your gifts. Waste is aesthetically bad, wasting your gifts is among the worst kinds, and the surest sign you have integrated your work with your genius is that you are having fun.

    The Next Era of Finance and the New Economics of Software

    Giffon notes that today’s largest firms (KKR, Blackstone, Apollo) were founded in a leveraged-buyout culture that is debt-driven, extractive, and financially engineered, and wonders what the next 30 years look like when the founding act of the biggest firms is instead seed investing: equity-driven, optimistic, power-law, and qualitative. He sees East and West Coast finance merging, with the West “eating” the East, and a compensation flip in which the Valley now pays large liquid cash through secondary markets while Wall Street pays RSUs. On software, his central economic argument is that SaaS sold copies of a string at near-zero marginal cost, which is why high gross margins were the norm. The new era sells compute, where you cannot write the prompt once and resell the output, so margins compress and returns accrue to scale, a Walmart effect. He also reframes the high-capex AI buildout as capital markets manufacturing somewhere for blocked capital to flow, with companies created downstream of capital rather than the reverse.

    Beating the Market, Emerging Managers, and the Feudal SPV System

    Giffon argues the myth that you cannot beat the market is overstated: Buffett’s S&P advice is aimed at the average person, and it is professionals, burdened by mandates and career risk, who struggle most, while amateurs who simply held Bitcoin, Tesla, or Apple outperformed. For LPs, he stresses knowing what customer you are. A 500k check is the wrong fit for a growth fund built to serve sovereigns, and emerging managers, tightly aligned to returns, are underrated. He urges underwriting the person over the thesis, paying special attention to a manager’s own financial situation and whether they are looking up or down at the fund size. He then describes the feudal economics of the labs, where founders grant allocations like landed estates, holders charge fees on a synthetic, relational, sometimes perpetual product, and the most egregious setups feature no GP commit, a 10% upfront fee, and carry with no term limit.

    Simplicity, Hiring, and Silicon Valley’s Hidden Philosophy

    On process, Giffon warns that investors prize complexity to look clever, when the choice is really to do something so complex no one else will or to keep it genuinely simple (be long Elon, buy big companies at their 200-week moving average), with the real gift being the ability to sell the simple idea. He praises Richard Rainwater’s one-page-thesis-plus-percentage-of-net-worth test as a brutal clarity forcing function. On hiring, he treats the job description as a sales pitch and a baked-in interview, using divisive, ambiguous statements like “an ideological minority at a top 10 school” to self-select the right people and repel the wrong ones. Finally, he makes the case that Silicon Valley’s underlying philosophy is badly underrated: a neo-Buddhist utilitarianism that flows into effective altruism, with thinkers like Nick Land, Curtis Yarvin, and William MacAskill shaping the culture unnamed. Where 1980s Wall Street was pagan and nakedly about money, today’s tech sees itself as self-righteous and positive-sum, treating the business as the ultimate philanthropy, with none of the old reflex to launder gains through art or culture.

    Notable Quotes

    “Every once in a while someone basically crystallizes a notion right at the right time in the right way that sort of becomes the foundational viewpoint or opinion on a certain era.”

    Jeremy Giffon, defining the billion dollar PDF

    “The capital just follows the billion dollar PDF around the field.”

    Jeremy Giffon, comparing capital to ten-year-olds chasing a soccer ball

    “Everyone gets served the same 500 tweets per day and it’s hundreds of millions of daily active users.”

    Jeremy Giffon, on the uni-feed that makes X the global newspaper

    “Posting changes your life if you’re good at it. That’s still true today, maybe more true than ever.”

    Jeremy Giffon, on posting as the last great meritocracy

    “Andrew Carnegie could take up arms against his workers, but now if you post the wrong thing as a billionaire, you have to resign.”

    Jeremy Giffon, on the shrinking power of the billionaire class

    “It’s this holy conceptual, just points on a leaderboard, truly, because you can’t spend it.”

    Jeremy Giffon, on net worth as a modern invention

    “One should not fool themselves that they are looking for anything other than entertainment in all the media that they consume, because it is produced to be entertaining.”

    Jeremy Giffon, on opting out of the timeline

    “We’re in an era where we’re selling compute. You can’t write the prompt once and then sell copies of the output. You have to do the compute every single time.”

    Jeremy Giffon, on the new economics of software

    “The most important media property won’t be watched. The most important author isn’t read. The most important philosopher is not understood. The most important stock has no fundamentals.”

    Jeremy Giffon, on a world where reputation floats free of the thing itself

    Watch the full conversation with Jeremy Giffon and Patrick O’Shaughnessy here on Invest Like the Best.

    Related Reading

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

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

    TLDW

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

    Thoughts

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

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

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

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

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

    Key Takeaways

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

    Detailed Summary

    The Kardashev Scale and Why Earth Barely Registers

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

    Why Energy at Scale Means Going to Space

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

    The Three Limiting Factors

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

    Starship and the Reusability Breakthrough

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

    Inside the AI Satellite (AI1)

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

    Operating a Constellation of a Million Satellites

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

    Manufacturing in Bastrop, Texas

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

    Chips, the Terafab, and the Road to a Terawatt

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

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

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

    Notable Quotes

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

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

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

    Elon Musk, dramatizing the scale of the star we orbit

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

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

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

    Elon Musk, on why Starship matters

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

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

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

    Elon Musk, on reusing existing Starlink technology

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

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

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

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

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

    Related Reading

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

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

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

    TLDW

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

    Thoughts

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

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

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

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

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

    Key Takeaways

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

    Detailed Summary

    The unicorn economy has rebalanced after 2021

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

    Cohort health is the real story

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

    The Magnificent 8 and a $4 trillion private index

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

    Exits are thawing and a wall of liquidity is coming

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

    The revenue ramp past the hyperscalers

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

    The SpaceX CODE framework

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

    Counterintuitive odds and the speed of value creation

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

    AI memory and where the revenue actually comes from

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

    Every sector is being transformed at once

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

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

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

    Notable Quotes

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

    Related Reading

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

  • Bill Ackman on Investment Strategy, What the Market Is Missing, and How AI Breaks Businesses

    Bill Ackman, founder and CEO of Pershing Square, joined the All-In Podcast for a conversation about how his investment approach has shifted toward permanent, long-term ownership, why he believes the highest-quality companies are being left behind by a market chasing the new new thing, and how AI is raising the risk of disruption for almost every business. He also lays out his plan to turn Howard Hughes into a Berkshire Hathaway-style compounding machine built on insurance. You can watch the full conversation here. Below is a structured breakdown of the ideas, the stories, and the frameworks he uses to underwrite a business.

    TLDW

    Ackman explains how his philosophy evolved from a smaller, more liquid activist toward concentrated, permanent ownership of durable, non-disruptible businesses, with much of his activism now playing out on X rather than in the boardroom. He tells the origin story of his first big trade, Wendy’s and the Tim Hortons spin-off, and explains why a large long-term shareholder on a board is an antidote to short-term markets. On AI, he argues that this is the greatest era in history to build a company, which means the risk of being disrupted has gone up enormously, and that the market is mispricing high-quality compounders like Microsoft, Meta, and Amazon while crowding into chips, semiconductors, and energy. He works through the SaaS question and why niche software is more at risk than platforms, how he underwrites SpaceX, xAI, OpenAI, Anthropic, and Palantir like late-stage venture bets using a people, opportunity, context, deal framework, and why founder-led companies have an edge in making radical calls. The back half covers his Howard Hughes plan to copy Buffett’s insurance-float model, the role of cost of capital and reflexivity in markets, the meme-stock era, going direct on social media, and the three different ways an investor can put money to work with Pershing Square.

    Thoughts

    The most useful idea in the interview is the way Ackman reframes disruption as the central investing problem of the AI era. His point is that the same forces making this the best time in history to start a company, meaning near-unlimited compute, capital, and talent, also raise the odds that any given incumbent gets disrupted. That reframes the word quality. It is no longer mostly about margins and moats. It becomes about non-disruptibility, which is a much higher bar than most quality investors were using a decade ago, and it is why he says most of his research time now goes into assessing that single risk.

    The what-the-market-is-missing thesis is classic contrarian Ackman. Arguing that Microsoft, Meta, and Amazon are the new old-fashioned, undervalued names while capital piles into semiconductors and energy is a direct echo of 2000, when Berkshire Hathaway bottomed precisely because money was chasing internet stocks. It is worth keeping in mind that he owns all three, so the call is also his book. The durable signal here is the framework, not the specific tickers: capital reliably chases the new new thing, and genuinely high-quality businesses get left behind during those rotations.

    The Howard Hughes plan is the most concrete bet in the conversation. Copying Buffett’s insurance-float playbook, short-term treasuries for policyholder money and equities for the surplus, onto a discounted real-estate holding company is elegant. The hard part is exactly what Ackman flags about insurance as an industry: the best investors go to hedge funds, not insurers, so most insurance companies only ever manage the liability side well. Pershing Square’s edge is that Ackman can both write the business and invest the float, which is the same reason it worked for Buffett. The framing of going from a four billion dollar company to a trillion over fifty years is a statement of intent, not a forecast, and should be read that way.

    Underneath all of it sits cost of capital and reflexivity. His observation that a higher stock price literally makes a company more valuable, because it lowers the cost of capital and creates acquisition currency, is the mechanism behind both Elon Musk’s empire and the meme-stock era he is wary of. Going direct on X is the same lever pointed at himself: communicate the vision, lower your own cost of capital, and make the bet easier for other people to place. It is a coherent worldview in which narrative and balance sheet continuously feed each other, and it explains a lot of his behavior over the last few years.

    Key Takeaways

    • The biggest change in Ackman’s approach over time is an appreciation for business quality, meaning long-term, durable, protected, non-disruptible growth as the most important factor.
    • He says he is as activist as ever, but more of it now happens on X than in the traditional corporate context.
    • His first big investment was Wendy’s, which owned Tim Hortons. The simple thesis was to buy Wendy’s, spin off Tim Hortons, and double the money.
    • Early on no one returned his calls, so he had Steve Schwarzman’s Blackstone write a fairness opinion, filed it publicly, and the company spun off Tim Hortons six weeks later. The CEO later thanked him after being fired with a large exit package.
    • Reputation compounds. Where Pershing Square once had to bang down the door, companies now sometimes tweet a welcome when it buys a stake.
    • A large long-term shareholder on a board is a counterweight to short-term markets, letting management test ideas privately and pursue initiatives that hurt the next few quarters of earnings.
    • Pershing Square owns Microsoft, Meta, and Amazon. Ackman argues you are either invested in AI directly or indirectly, or it is a threat, so you have to understand it.
    • The hardest and most important job for a concentrated investor is judging the risk of disruption, and that risk has risen dramatically.
    • This is the greatest era in history to build a business because of near-unlimited access to compute, capital, and talent, which is exactly why the probability of being disrupted has gone up enormously.
    • Markets bring their eye to the new new thing, currently chips, semiconductors, and energy, while high-quality companies get left behind.
    • He draws an analogy to 2000, when Berkshire Hathaway traded at one of its lowest valuations because everyone chased internet stocks. He sees a similar dynamic around Amazon, Meta, and Microsoft today.
    • On the SaaS question, he worries more about a Salesforce than a platform like Microsoft, because niche software charging high per-seat or per-year prices is most exposed, while low-priced platforms are safer.
    • Any software company today has to be as AI-enabled as possible, or risk losing the monopolistic pricing it once enjoyed.
    • His famous March 2020 CNBC appearance was an attempt to reach President Trump and argue for a short shutdown, paired with the view that stocks were incredibly cheap and worth buying.
    • He describes valuation as a tether on the market: when prices stretch too high they snap back, and when they get too cheap the same rubber band pulls valuations up. Calling that out publicly can trigger a psychological reset.
    • His recent bullish call came because stocks of really high-quality companies had gotten crazy cheap on fundamentals, meaning the present value of the cash they generate.
    • He underwrites high-multiple names like SpaceX as venture investments using a framework from business school: people, opportunity, context, deal.
    • On SpaceX, people and opportunity are one of one, the context is incredible, and Starlink plus near-monopoly low-cost launch make it strategically valuable. The complicated part is the deal, meaning the valuation. He invested via an SPV after Ron Baron’s nudge, and also invested in xAI.
    • He treats OpenAI, Anthropic, and Palantir as late-stage venture bets that have proven they can generate real revenue, and says OpenAI should do a better job communicating how it thinks about its enormous capital commitments.
    • Every CEO in America is asking how to use AI, how it applies to their business, and how it is a threat. It is top of mind and boards open every meeting with it.
    • He has not seen much enterprise AI success yet, citing a McKinsey study that 95 percent of enterprise initiatives fail and the rise of the forward deployed engineer as the hot role bridging promise and ROI. Pershing Square itself uses AI mainly for legal, compliance, and back-office work.
    • Founder-led companies have an advantage because founders have the authority and the economic stake to make radical calls, while the average S&P 500 CEO has a roughly three to four year tenure and is incentivized not to make mistakes.
    • He cites Mark Zuckerberg buying Instagram and WhatsApp as the kind of shocking-at-the-time calls that a founder with a track record can make.
    • Ben Graham’s enduring lesson is that a stock is an interest in a business, not a piece of paper, but Graham mostly invested in liquidations and cash-rich shells, and made most of his money on Geico.
    • Most of Buffett’s value at Berkshire came from owning insurance operations and focusing on the asset side of the balance sheet, not just the liability side.
    • Insurance is hard to copy because top investors do not go to work for insurers. Buffett owned half his company and was a great investor, which is why it worked.
    • Howard Hughes came out of the General Growth bankruptcy and owns master-planned cities like Summerlin, with 26,000 acres in the Las Vegas area, comparable to the Irvine Company that built roughly a hundred billion dollars of wealth for Donald Bren.
    • The plan is to reinvest the cash Howard Hughes generates into insurance, put policyholder float in short-term treasuries and the surplus in common stocks, and build a compounding machine over fifty years, buying it at roughly sixty cents on the dollar.
    • A company must earn a return above its cost of capital for the stock to rise. Elon Musk has kept his companies’ cost of capital extremely low, and a SpaceX IPO near a 1.75 trillion dollar valuation could be one of the lowest cost of equity capital transactions ever.
    • Markets have changed less because of Ackman and more because of figures like Ryan Cohen and GameStop, where a stock can trade well above its value on personality and an army of followers.
    • Higher valuations are reflexive: a rising stock price lowers cost of capital and creates currency to issue stock and acquire businesses, which is part of how Elon built Tesla.
    • There are three ways to invest with Pershing Square: the management company itself (a royalty on compounding assets with no capex), PSUS (a portfolio of best ideas trading at an 18 percent discount), and Howard Hughes (a bet on building the next Berkshire). A dollar invested 22 years ago became roughly 27 to 28 times net of fees.
    • Going direct on X, with 2.2 million followers, lets him communicate his vision and lower the friction for others to back his bets, even as his very long tweets have become a running meme.

    Detailed Summary

    From activist trades to permanent capital

    Ackman frames the evolution of his career as a steady move toward business quality. As a smaller, more liquid investor early on, he did not have to think as long-term. As Pershing Square became a bigger, more concentrated investor, durable growth became the dominant factor in every decision. He insists he is still as activist as ever, but a lot of that energy has shifted to X, where he can argue a position publicly rather than only inside a boardroom. The best investments, he notes, are the ones where you do not need to join the board and do anything at all.

    The Wendy’s and Tim Hortons origin story

    One of Pershing Square’s first investments was Wendy’s, which owned the Canadian coffee and donut chain Tim Hortons. The value of Tim Hortons alone was greater than the entire value of Wendy’s, so the idea was simple: buy Wendy’s, spin off Tim Hortons, and double the money. Ackman bought ten percent of the company and could not get the CEO to return a single call, so he had a contact at Blackstone, with Steve Schwarzman’s sign-off, write a fairness opinion on what Wendy’s would be worth after a spin-off, filed it publicly, and watched the spin-off happen six weeks later. The CEO eventually called back to thank him, having been fired but rewarded with a large exit package. Over the years that scrappy approach gave way to a reputation that now opens doors on its own.

    Why a long-term shareholder on the board matters

    The core problem of being a public company, in Ackman’s telling, is the short-term nature of markets and analysts, when a good business should be run in the context of years and even decades. A large, supportive shareholder on the board gives management a place to test ideas before exposing them to the public and a credible voice willing to back initiatives that hurt earnings for a few quarters. That is the value-add he believes a constructive activist can bring to a mature public company, as opposed to a startup where the best outcome is simply to own a great business and stay out of the way.

    AI and the rising risk of disruption

    For a concentrated, long-term investor, the most challenging task is judging the risk that two people from Stanford in a garage build something that destroys your thesis. Ackman argues that risk has climbed dramatically because this is the greatest era in history to build a company, with near-unlimited access to compute, capital, and talent. The paradox is that the conditions that make building easier also make incumbents more fragile, so the bulk of his research now centers on assessing how disruptible a business really is.

    What the market is missing

    Investors bring their attention to the new new thing, currently chips, semiconductors, and energy, which leaves high-quality companies behind. Ackman compares the moment to 2000, when Berkshire Hathaway traded at one of its lowest valuations ever because capital was chasing internet stocks. He sees an echo today in how Amazon, Meta, and Microsoft are treated as old-fashioned, and he considers them undervalued on fundamentals, where value is the present value of the cash a business generates over its life. His recent bullish call, like his March 2020 appearance, came because stocks of really high-quality companies had simply gotten too cheap.

    The SaaS question and AI-enabled software

    On the so-called SaaS apocalypse, Ackman says it is a company-by-company analysis. He worries more about something like Salesforce than about a low-priced platform. The companies most at risk are those that extracted near-monopolistic profits by charging a high annual price for a niche product, because AI lowers the barrier to replicating that functionality. A platform where the average customer pays a small amount per seat, like Microsoft, is far less exposed. The takeaway for any software company is to become as AI-enabled as it possibly can.

    Underwriting SpaceX, xAI, and the AI labs like venture

    For the highest-multiple private companies, Ackman uses a venture lens and a framework a business school professor taught him: people, opportunity, context, deal. SpaceX scores as one of one on people and opportunity, with an incredible context and a near-monopoly in low-cost launch through Starlink, which makes even Amazon a likely customer. The complicated variable is the deal, meaning the valuation, and he admits he has not done all the math, having invested through an SPV after Ron Baron encouraged him, along with a position in xAI. He treats OpenAI, Anthropic, and Palantir as late-stage venture bets that have proven real revenue, and argues OpenAI in particular should communicate more clearly how it justifies capital commitments that vastly exceed current revenue.

    Founder-led companies and the authority to act

    Ackman agrees that founder-led companies have a structural advantage in a fast-changing environment. The average S&P 500 CEO has a tenure of roughly three to four years, a small economic stake, and an incentive not to make a career-ending mistake. A founder is betting an entire life and reputation, has the authority of a major voting and economic position, and has usually made several hard, contrarian calls that turned out right. He points to Mark Zuckerberg’s acquisitions of Instagram and WhatsApp, which looked shocking at the time, as exactly the kind of decision a founder with a track record can make and a hired manager often cannot.

    Howard Hughes as Berkshire Hathaway 2.0

    Ackman points to a detailed financial history of Berkshire Hathaway showing that the vast majority of Buffett’s value creation came from owning insurance and focusing on the asset side of the balance sheet, not just the liability side. Insurance is hard to replicate because skilled investors join hedge funds rather than insurers, but Buffett owned half his company and was a great investor. Pershing Square is applying the same idea to Howard Hughes, a company created out of the General Growth bankruptcy that owns master-planned cities such as Summerlin, with 26,000 acres around Las Vegas, in the spirit of the Irvine Company that made Donald Bren roughly a hundred billion dollars. The plan is to reinvest the company’s cash into insurance, place policyholder float in short-term treasuries and the surplus in common stocks, avoid issuing stock the way Buffett did, and compound for fifty years, all bought at around sixty cents on the dollar.

    Cost of capital, reflexivity, and going direct

    A company only creates value when it earns above its cost of capital, which is why Howard Hughes, seen as a high-cost-of-capital real-estate business, has long traded at a discount, and why Ackman is repurposing its assets into a higher-returning model. He highlights how reflexive markets are: a higher stock price itself makes a company more valuable by lowering its cost of capital and creating currency to raise money and acquire businesses, a lever Elon Musk used to build Tesla. He attributes real market change less to himself and more to figures like Ryan Cohen and GameStop, where personality and a following can lift a stock far above its value. His own going-direct strategy on X, with 2.2 million followers and famously long posts, is the same mechanism applied to communicating a vision and lowering friction for investors. He closes by laying out three ways to invest with Pershing Square: the management company as a royalty on compounding assets, the PSUS portfolio trading at an 18 percent discount, and Howard Hughes as a bet on building the next Berkshire.

    Notable Quotes

    “The best investments are one where you don’t need to join the board and do anything.”

    Bill Ackman, on the kind of business he most wants to own

    “The probability of your being disrupted has gone up enormously.”

    Bill Ackman, on why assessing disruption risk now dominates his research

    “Valuation is like a tether on the market, right? When it gets too high, it’s like this rubber band that’s stretching and inevitably it bounces back.”

    Bill Ackman, on how prices revert at both extremes

    “People, opportunity, context, deal.”

    Bill Ackman, on the business school framework he uses to underwrite companies like SpaceX

    “Every CEO in America today is like, how do I use AI?”

    Bill Ackman, on AI as the top opportunity and threat in every boardroom

    “A closed mouth gathers no foot.”

    Bill Ackman, quoting the line a friend put next to his name in his high school yearbook

    “The increase in value of the company increases the value of the company, right? Because it lowers the cost of capital, it gives you more flexibility, gives you the ability to issue stock, raise capital, acquire other businesses.”

    Bill Ackman, on the reflexivity between stock price and corporate value

    “The company’s got like a $4 billion market cap and the goal is to build it into a trillion dollar thing over time compounding.”

    Bill Ackman, on his fifty-year plan for Howard Hughes

    Taken together, the conversation is a tour of how Ackman now thinks about quality, disruption, and compounding, and a preview of the Berkshire-style machine he wants to build out of Howard Hughes. Watch the full conversation here.

    Related Reading

  • Anthropic Raises $65 Billion Series H at $965 Billion Valuation to Fund AI Safety Research and Massive Compute Expansion

    Anthropic has closed one of the largest private financing rounds in the history of technology, raising $65 billion in Series H funding at a $965 billion post-money valuation. The round, announced on May 28, 2026, lands as demand for Claude reaches what the company calls historic levels, and it positions Anthropic to pour fresh capital into safety research, compute, and the products that enterprises now lean on every day.

    TLDR

    Anthropic raised $65 billion in its Series H at a $965 billion post-money valuation, with Altimeter Capital, Dragoneer, Greenoaks, and Sequoia Capital leading and Capital Group, Coatue, D1 Capital Partners, GIC, ICONIQ, and XN co-leading, alongside $15 billion in previously committed hyperscaler investment that includes $5 billion from Amazon. The raise follows Anthropic crossing $47 billion in run-rate revenue earlier in May 2026, and it funds three priorities named by CFO Krishna Rao: advancing safety and interpretability research, expanding compute capacity to meet growing Claude demand, and scaling the products and partnerships customers depend on. On the infrastructure side, the company is locking in gigawatt-scale compute through 5 gigawatts with Amazon, 5 gigawatts of TPU capacity via Google and Broadcom, GPU access from SpaceX, and supply from partners Micron, Samsung, and SK hynix, while Claude remains available across all three major cloud platforms, AWS, Google Cloud, and Microsoft Azure, with widespread enterprise adoption across industries.

    Thoughts

    Start with the number that everyone will fixate on. A $965 billion post-money valuation against $47 billion in run-rate revenue is roughly 20 times sales, and for a company growing this fast that multiple is not the interesting part. The interesting part is that run-rate revenue crossed $47 billion earlier this month, which means the denominator is moving so quickly that the multiple is already stale. Investors are not pricing the business Anthropic is today. They are pricing the slope. A 20x multiple on a number that may double again inside a year is a very different bet than 20x on a flat line, and the lead names here (Altimeter, Dragoneer, Greenoaks, Sequoia, with Capital Group, Coatue, GIC and others co-leading) are not the kind of capital that pays for nostalgia. They are paying for the second derivative.

    But the real story is not the valuation. It is the compute. Read the infrastructure list carefully and you see the actual problem this round solves: 5 gigawatts from Amazon, 5 gigawatts of TPU capacity through Google and Broadcom, GPU access from SpaceX, and memory supply locked down with Micron, Samsung, and SK hynix. That is more than 10 gigawatts of secured power and silicon. The constraint on frontier AI in 2026 is no longer talent or even algorithms. It is electricity, land, and the multi-year queue for advanced packaging and high-bandwidth memory. You cannot buy 10 gigawatts on a quarterly basis. You reserve it years out, and you need the balance sheet to make those commitments credible. A $65 billion raise is, in plain terms, the down payment that lets Anthropic sign for capacity nobody can conjure on demand. The money is downstream of the megawatts.

    The diversification across that compute stack matters as much as the size. By splitting between Amazon’s infrastructure, Google and Broadcom’s custom TPUs, and SpaceX-supplied GPUs, Anthropic is refusing to become hostage to any single supplier’s roadmap or pricing. Custom silicon through Broadcom in particular is a bet on bending the cost curve, because the long-term economics of serving Claude at this scale depend on dollars per token, not just on raw availability. Anyone who has watched cloud lock-in play out over the last decade understands the move. Optionality at the hardware layer is leverage, and leverage is what keeps margins from being dictated by whoever owns the only fab slot you can reach.

    It is worth pausing on the fact that the round explicitly funds safety and interpretability research alongside scaling, and not as a footnote. Most companies treat safety spend as a cost center to be minimized once growth kicks in. Naming it first, ahead of compute and products, is a statement about where Anthropic believes its durable advantage sits. If models keep getting more capable, the binding constraint on deployment inside regulated industries (finance, healthcare, government) becomes trust, not intelligence. Interpretability is the work that turns a black box into something an enterprise risk committee can actually sign off on. Framed that way, safety research is not philanthropy subtracted from the bottom line. It is the thing that unlocks the most lucrative and defensible parts of the market, and pairing it with the scaling budget is the tell.

    Finally, look at distribution. Claude now ships on all three major clouds at once: AWS, Google Cloud, and Microsoft Azure. In a market where most frontier labs are tethered to a single hyperscaler, being available everywhere enterprises already run their workloads is a structural edge. It removes the procurement friction of asking a customer to adopt a new vendor relationship, and it means Anthropic competes on the merits of the model rather than on which cloud a buyer happened to standardize on years ago. Combine that omnipresent distribution with the compute reservations and the explicit safety mandate, and the shape of the strategy is clear. This is not a company buying time. It is a company buying the three things that actually compound: capacity that cannot be rushed, trust that cannot be faked, and reach into every place where work already happens.

    Key Takeaways

    • Anthropic raised $65 billion in its Series H funding round, one of the largest private financings in the history of the technology industry.
    • The round set Anthropic’s post-money valuation at $965 billion, placing the company within reach of the $1 trillion mark.
    • Altimeter Capital, Dragoneer, Greenoaks, and Sequoia Capital led the Series H round.
    • Capital Group, Coatue, D1 Capital Partners, GIC, ICONIQ, and XN served as co-leads on the investment.
    • The new capital builds on $15 billion in previously committed hyperscaler investments, which includes $5 billion from Amazon.
    • Anthropic crossed $47 billion in run-rate revenue earlier in May 2026, reflecting the surging commercial demand for Claude.
    • A core priority for the funding is to advance Anthropic’s safety and interpretability research.
    • The company will use the capital to expand compute capacity in order to meet growing demand for Claude.
    • Anthropic plans to scale the products and partnerships that customers depend on across its business.
    • CFO Krishna Rao said the funding will help Anthropic serve the historic demand it is experiencing, stay at the research frontier, and bring Claude to more of the places where work happens.
    • Amazon is providing 5 gigawatts of compute capacity as part of Anthropic’s infrastructure expansion.
    • Google and Broadcom are supplying 5 gigawatts of TPU capacity to power Claude’s growth.
    • SpaceX is contributing GPU access to Anthropic’s compute footprint.
    • Micron, Samsung, and SK hynix are partnering with Anthropic on memory and infrastructure to support its scaling needs.
    • Claude is available on all three major cloud platforms, AWS, Google Cloud, and Microsoft Azure.
    • Anthropic reports widespread enterprise adoption of Claude across a broad range of industries.

    Detailed Summary

    The Raise and the Valuation

    Anthropic has raised $65 billion in Series H funding, a round that values the company at $965 billion on a post-money basis. The size of the raise places it among the largest private financing events the technology industry has ever seen, and the valuation pushes Anthropic to the doorstep of the trillion dollar mark. The capital arrives at a moment when demand for the company’s Claude models has accelerated sharply, and the round is built to fund the response to that demand rather than simply mark a milestone. Anthropic framed the financing in its Series H announcement as the fuel for staying at the research frontier while scaling the infrastructure and products that customers increasingly rely on.

    Who Put In the Money

    The Series H was led by Altimeter Capital, Dragoneer, Greenoaks, and Sequoia Capital, a group that combines deep growth-stage technology experience with conviction in Anthropic’s long-term trajectory. Joining as co-leads were Capital Group, Coatue, D1 Capital Partners, GIC, ICONIQ, and XN, a roster that spans crossover funds, sovereign wealth, and institutional investors. Beyond the new equity, Anthropic pointed to $15 billion in previously committed hyperscaler investment, including $5 billion from Amazon. Taken together, the investor base reflects a mix of financial backers and strategic partners with a direct stake in seeing Claude reach more customers and more compute.

    Revenue at $47 Billion Run-Rate

    Underpinning the valuation is a business that has scaled with unusual speed. Anthropic crossed a $47 billion run-rate revenue figure earlier in May 2026, a number that signals how quickly enterprises and developers have adopted Claude across their workflows. Run-rate revenue annualizes the company’s most recent performance, and at this level it puts Anthropic firmly among the fastest growing software businesses on record. That financial momentum is the practical justification for both the round’s size and the near trillion dollar valuation investors were willing to support.

    The Compute Buildout

    A large share of the strategy behind the raise centers on securing compute at enormous scale. Anthropic detailed a set of infrastructure partnerships designed to keep pace with Claude demand. Amazon is providing 5 gigawatts of capacity, while Google and Broadcom together are supplying 5 gigawatts of TPU capacity. SpaceX is contributing GPU access, broadening the range of silicon Anthropic can draw on. Supporting the buildout on the hardware supply side are Micron, Samsung, and SK hynix, the memory and component partners whose output is essential to standing up data centers at this magnitude. The combined picture is a company assembling power, chips, and supply chain commitments measured in gigawatts rather than racks.

    Where the Money Goes

    Anthropic outlined three priorities for the new capital. The first is to advance safety and interpretability research, continuing the work of understanding how models behave and ensuring they remain reliable as they grow more capable. The second is to expand compute capacity to meet the growing demand for Claude, the practical engine behind the infrastructure commitments above. The third is to scale the products and partnerships that customers depend on, deepening the company’s reach into the tools and platforms where work actually happens. Krishna Rao, Anthropic’s chief financial officer, said the funding “will help us serve the historic demand we are experiencing, stay at the research frontier, and bring Claude to more of the places where work happens.”

    Claude Everywhere

    The funding lands on top of a distribution footprint that already spans the major cloud ecosystems. Claude is available on all three leading cloud platforms, AWS, Google Cloud, and Microsoft Azure, which means enterprises can reach the models through whichever provider they have standardized on. That availability has translated into widespread enterprise adoption across industries, from software and finance to healthcare and beyond. By being present everywhere developers and businesses already operate, Anthropic positions Claude not as a destination customers must travel to but as a capability woven into the platforms they use every day.

    Notable Quotes

    This funding will help us serve the historic demand we are experiencing, stay at the research frontier, and bring Claude to more of the places where work happens.

    Krishna Rao, CFO at Anthropic, on the purpose of the Series H round.

    Advance safety and interpretability research, expand compute capacity to meet growing Claude demand, and scale products and partnerships customers depend on.

    How Anthropic describes its use of funds from the round.

    For the full details on the round, the lead and co-lead investors, and how Anthropic plans to deploy the capital across safety research, compute, and products, read the full announcement here.

    Related Reading

    • Anthropic, the AI safety and research company behind Claude that raised this Series H round.
    • Sequoia Capital, one of the lead investors anchoring the financing.
    • Amazon Web Services, one of the three major cloud platforms where Claude is available and the source of a $5 billion investment.
    • Google Cloud TPUs, the tensor processing units behind the 5 gigawatts of TPU capacity in the Google and Broadcom partnership.
    • AI safety, the research field at the center of how Anthropic says it will use the new funding.

  • Elon’s Tech Tree Convergence: Why the Future of AI is Moving to Space

    Elon’s Tech Tree Convergence: Why the Future of AI is Moving to Space

    The latest sit-down between Elon Musk and Dwarkesh Patel is a roadmap for the next decade. Musk describes a world where the limitations of Earth—regulatory red tape, flat energy production, and labor shortages—are bypassed by moving the “tech tree” into orbit and onto the lunar surface.

    TL;DW (Too Long; Didn’t Watch)

    Elon Musk predicts that within 30–36 months, the most economical place for AI data centers will be space. Due to Earth’s stagnant power grid and the difficulty of permitting, SpaceX and xAI are pivoting toward orbital data centers powered by sun-synchronous solar, eventually scaling to the Moon to build a “multi-petawatt” compute civilization.

    Key Takeaways

    • The Power Wall: Electricity production outside of China is flat. By 2026, there won’t be enough power on Earth to turn on all the chips being manufactured.
    • Space GPUs: Solar efficiency is 5x higher in space. SpaceX aims for 10,000+ Starship launches a year to build orbital “hyper-hyperscalers.”
    • Optimus & The Economy: Once humanoid robots build factories, the global economy could grow by 100,000x.
    • The Lunar Mass Driver: Mining silicon on the Moon to launch AI satellites into deep space is the ultimate scaling play.
    • Truth-Seeking AI: Musk argues that forcing “political correctness” makes AI deceptive and dangerous.

    Detailed Summary: Scaling Beyond the Grid

    Musk identifies energy as the immediate bottleneck. While GPUs are the main cost, the inability to get “interconnect agreements” from utilities is halting progress. In space, you get 24/7 solar power without batteries. Musk predicts SpaceX will eventually launch more AI capacity annually than the cumulative total existing on Earth.

    The discussion on Optimus highlights the “S-curve” of manufacturing. Musk believes Optimus Gen 3 will be ready for million-unit annual production. These robots will initially handle “dirty/boring” tasks like ore refining, eventually closing the recursive loop where robots build the factories that build more robots.

    Thoughts: The Most Interesting Outcome

    Musk’s philosophy remains rooted in keeping civilization “interesting.” Whether or not you buy into the 30-month timeline for space-based AI, his “maniacal urgency” is shifting from cars to the literal stars. We are witnessing the birth of a verticalized, off-world intelligence monopoly.