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Annualized Enron Rate

If you liked this piece, you should subscribe to my premium newsletter, and you can subscribe on the following links: $70 a year , $18 a quarter , or $7 a month . In return, you get a weekly premium newsletter that dives deep into the finances of the AI bubble. Over the past few months, I’ve published a two part guide to the world of AI debt, an analysis of the (dubious) impact of generative AI on the global economy , deep analyses of the biggest players in the AI infrastructure space like NVIDIA (part one and two ) and Oracle (part one and two ), and the role private credit is playing in funding AI data centers , and how private equity, reeling from years of successive failed software acquisitions, is doubling down on the AI bubble .  On Friday, we’ll take a look at the JOBS Act — or, the Obama-era legislation that created the regulatory environment that would ultimately prove essential for the AI bubble to inflate - and why it might be time to reform or entirely repeal it. If you want to get in touch — and especially if you have any juicy information about Anthropic, OpenAI, or any other companies in the AI bubble — hit me up on Signal at ezitron.76. I’m also on IB on your Bloomberg Terminal.  Soundtrack: Cleopatrick - Hometown The entire AI bubble is inflated based on stupid, made up numbers that only exist to pump the bags of investors and make the AI startups look more successful than they are. It is a failure of journalism that they have been popularized, as they do not tell us very much about anything, other than that there’s a new, bigger number to get excited about. Last week , the markets dropped on the news that OpenAI’s annualized recurring revenue (ARR) — which was reported as $70 billion by Axios and confirmed by the Financial Times — was actually $50 billion . The number in question was, according to the FT , inflated by “grossing up” the total to include sales through cloud partners, a discrepancy between how OpenAI and Anthropic make up a number that doesn’t really tell anyone anything: Back in August, Anthropic had told investors that it had hit $65 billion in annualized run rate , but at no point defined what that meant, what period it referred to, what any of the underlying numbers are, or what “gross” versus “net” bollocks it was playing. Per Irrational Analysis the calculus might have been even sillier than that : This is the problem of saying what the revenues of a company might be based on numbers that are not its actual revenues. There is absolutely no value in using “annualized run rates” for anyone other than the company and its investors, and the fact that modern tech and business journalism continues to accept it for what are meant to be the largest and most-important companies in the world is a sign that something is very wrong with how we cover the tech industry. I am not going to spend much time dwelling on gross versus net. It appears that, per Reuters , 47% of Anthropic’s 2025 revenues came from sales made by Google and Amazon, who take a 16% cut as opposed to the roughly 20% that Microsoft takes from OpenAI. It appears that Anthropic for whatever reason counts every dollar of sales as part of its annualized run rate figure and OpenAI does not, for reasons that escape me, as I simply don’t buy that it is “more ethical.”  My evidence? The following quote from the FT, emphasis mine: This is the same OpenAI that tried to claim that a $34 billion loss was actually an $8 billion loss when the FT asked them about my reporting on its audited financials . I must also say how utterly disappointed I was to see how Bloomberg credulously reported that OpenAI “expected to hit $70 billion in annualized revenue by end of 2026,” a transparent attempt to send the markets back up with a story that tells the world less than nothing.  Wow, OpenAI, by the end of 2026, will increase a number that “represents a projection of [its] yearly sales based on a shorter period” by $20 billion! What is the period in question? Who knows! How is that number derived? Who cares! Number go up! Put the story in the bag! Your job is not to cover the tech industry, it is to celebrate it! Stop thinking! In other words, OpenAI’s made up number was actually lower than Anthropic’s made up number because of the way it made the number up, but by the end of the year, the made up number would be bigger than the other made up number. These made up numbers are reported by the largest and most well-respected news outlets of the world, who lend said made up numbers respectability despite the numbers in question being utter bullshit. I’ll give you an example. For the first half of 2026, OpenAI made $12.4 billion in ($5.7 billion in Q1 and $6.7 billion in Q2) revenue per The Information and the Wall Street Journal , while Anthropic, per the WSJ and the FT , made $15.5 billion ($4.6 billion in Q1 and $10.9 billion in Q2). We do not have consistent coverage of their underlying costs, but in Q1 (per The Information), OpenAI spent $8.6 billion on training and $3.5 billion on “cost of revenue,” with no reporting on its sales and marketing spend where it allocates the cost of serving free users or discounts.  Anthropic said it had hit an annualized run rate (undefined period multiplied by undefined number) of $48 billion on May 28 , or roughly 430% more than its entire revenue in the second quarter. In fact, if you added up every dollar that both Anthropic and OpenAI made in the first two quarters, you’d be $19.1 billion short of Anthropic’s May “run rate.” We do not know how any of these numbers were actually conceived outside of they are somehow derived from a non-specific 28 day period. The information they convey is sparse, if it communicates anything at all.  Reporting “run rates” is a marketing exercise, and if you disagree, please answer me the following: what does a “$65 billion annualized run rate” tell you about Anthropic, exactly? It’s MEANT to make you think it will make $65 billion a year in revenue, but that is not what it actually means. This number tells you nothing, and exists only to poison the well of information.  Without an actual period of time — and I mean an exact one, such as “July 1 to July 31, 2026” — and the exact way it was calculated, this number effectively means nothing, and reporting it without this information only serves OpenAI or Anthropic. You can say “investors use it all the time” all you want. Investors are fucking stupid for using it. If the argument is “it shows how fast OpenAI is growing,” why don’t you find out the actual growth rate of the company?  The fact these numbers moved markets is a reflection of the definitive — and accepted — ignorance built into the entire AI bubble, where despite trillions of dollars on the line , we know very little about the actual underlying numbers, and those numbers we do know are inflated using techniques that would get you shot by an accountant. In fact, we don’t know most of the numbers that would actually tell us whether any of this is a good idea. Reporting on the true revenues of the AI industry feels less like financial analysis and more like legal discovery, and it’s fundamentally insane how little tangible, meaningful information that exists to feed the trillion-plus dollars in capital expenditures and endless full-court press in the media about how AI is the next big thing.  We do not know Google, Amazon or Oracle’s AI revenues, and we have a single year — fiscal year 2026 — of Microsoft’s AI revenues based on an estimate from Bloomberg calculated from its disclosure of its OpenAI revenues in an SEC filing . We do not know how much each individual service makes, how much their true revenue shares are with the AI labs or, as I discussed a few weeks ago, how much actual, operational AI capacity exists as a result of the trillion-plus dollars in capital expenditures , though Bloomberg and I have both reported that Microsoft has around 2GW of it, even though it claimed to bring online a gigawatt in each of its last three fiscal quarters.  We do not know the revenues or much about the economics of [include funding totals) Perplexity, Harvey, Instinct, Reflection, Cognition, Replit, Lovable, and Factory, all of whom have raised somewhere in the region of $15.8 billion in funding, and have a combined valuation of $215.8 billion. We do not and will never know the true revenues or costs of Cursor’s operations as a result of its acquisition by SpaceX , and as a reminder, annualized revenues are not actual indicators of the economic health — the revenues, costs or cash flows — of any of these companies.  Perhaps this was permissible in the past because so much less capital was being annihilated in the name of startups, but things have escalated so much further than any other era, including the Dot Com bubble. Look, the entire AI bubble has been inflated based on the implicit belief that there will be demand — from AI startups and elsewhere — for AI compute, to the point that Goldman Sachs says that hyperscalers need AI startups to make $425 billion in annual revenues just for the hyperscalers to break even … and we don’t even know, outside of Anthropic and OpenAI, how much any AI startup actually makes. What we do have is “annualized run rates” pegged to non-specific time periods and non-specific numbers that tell us, for example, that Cognition hit $1 billion in late September, a number that means next to nothing. Even when The Information was able to report that Cognition would burn $800 million in 2026, it resorted to saying that it was “generating around $900 million in annualized revenue, or $75 million a month” as of August 27 2026 — adding that executives had “projected it would hit $1.5 billion in annualized revenue by end of year,” meaning that two journalists were able to successfully find out its actual expected burn, that it burned $200 million in Q2 2026…but not the actual revenues that the company generated on a quarterly basis. Let’s be clear about something: the reason we’re not getting these numbers is that these companies are not actually making these amounts on an annual basis. If Cognition was actually going to hit anything close to $1 billion — and let’s be honest, it’s likely less than $500 million! — it’d leak it versus using these weird monthly snapshots. It is astonishing that we, four years into the AI bubble, do not know the revenues of more than a handful of AI companies outside of OpenAI and Anthropic. All we have is a mishmash of annualized run rates, and at this point I have to wonder if it’s a failure of journalism, successful opsec, even more successful marketing, or that these companies don’t have great accounting.  But really, go and look up basically every AI company. Perplexity? Nothing. Harvey? Nothing. Cursor? Years of reporting — endless thousands of words spent — and nary one report I can find, outside of these fucking annualized run rates.  Part of the reason, I imagine, is this chart from Ramp that I’ve brought up before: From what I hear, the vast majority of those 1% of customers are AI startups that power their products using OpenAI and Anthropic’s models, predominantly using monthly subscriptions that allow users to burn way more in tokens than their subscriptions actually make. For example, SemiAnalysis did a deep study into the amount of tokens you could burn on the various different AI subscriptions out there, finding that you could burn anywhere from $83 to $118 a month for $20 and from $1,264 to $1,331 a month for $200 on Cognition, dropping to $46 on a $20-a-month plan and $507 for $200-a-month on Cursor when using Anthropic’s models. While OpenAI’s models are being dropped from Cursor, SemiAnalysis found you could burn $154 a month using OpenAI’s models on Cognition’s $20-a-month plan, and $1,736 a month on its $200-a-month plan. The various boosters reading this and making noises like the Skesis from Dark Crystal will say “but these companies get discounts!” as if that makes up for the fact that customers are able to burn two to six times their actual subscription every month. They’ll also argue that “this is the gym model, and most customers don’t spend that much,” a statement that they have no proof for other than that it makes them feel better.  The problem — and the reason I’d argue that the actual revenues of these companies are so shrouded in secrecy — is that the underlying economics do not match up when you consider that effectively every AI startup has to resell tokens at a discount. It doesn’t really matter how much revenue you make if you’re sending twice or thrice or five times that amount out the door to Anthropic and OpenAI, but saying a larger “annualized run rate” makes the amounts you’re raising far less worrying than what I imagine are particularly-shrimpy sales. Let’s take Harvey — which raised $550 million at a $15.5 billion valuation in September — as an example. As of early August, Harvey had hit $350 million in annualized revenue , up from $190 million in January. If we assume it uses the same “trailing 28 days” model as Anthropic, this means that it made $26.9 million in a 28-day period ending sometime in August, up from $14.6 million in a period that ended some time in January 2026 . Since December 2025, Harvey has raised a total of $910 million across three rounds , or roughly 33.8 times the estimated underlying revenues of its most-recent run rate, which increased by 45.7% in that period. Bloomberg claimed in late September that Harvey’s Gross Margins had gone from 50% in January 2026 to negative 50% in June 2026 to “positive again” (I imagine in September) due to using open source models, but something about those numbers is deeply weird to me, mostly because I’ve never, ever heard of a company having had that happen.  And none of that explains why a company that makes tens of millions of dollars in revenue needs to raise hundreds of millions of dollars every few months, unless, of course, most of those dollars are flowing immediately to Anthropic and OpenAI, which is, it turns out, exactly what happened: This is the antithesis of any good business. In basically any industry, the more demand you have, the more money you make, but in AI, the more demand you get, the more money you lose, and your most engaged customers are also your least-profitable.  However you might rationalize the underlying economics of a company like Harvey, the numbers we do know are extremely worrying — $900 million raised since December 2025, and, in my most-optimistic calculation, around $175 million (though likely less than $150 million) in revenue through the end of August, for a company that raised another $600 million across two other rounds in 2025. That’s $1.66 billion in about a year and a half to make an unprofitable company with less than $30 million in monthly revenue that is somehow worth $15.5 billion. Harvey has categorically failed to find product-market fit, unless we qualify that as “literally finding a customer.” It’s very clear that its underlying product cannot support itself, and that the company is entirely-dependent on venture capital, raising at least $160 million every three to six months since February 2025. It is abundantly clear that Harvey’s customers — like every AI startup — do not actually want to pay what its services cost, which means it does not have product-market fit, nor what I’d call a “business.” Then there’s Cognition, which has raised a combined $3 billion in 2026 alone (in May and September ), with its run rate going from $492 million to $1 billion in that period. If we assume the same calculation as Anthropic uses, that means revenues were $37.8 million and $76.9 million respectively, and that its last two rounds of funding are roughly 39 times the size of its 28-day trailing revenues. It is unclear what has substantively changed about the company, other than that the $400 million it raised in September 2025 was insufficient to last. I know there are going to be venture capitalists who argue that “these companies are just raising opportunistically,” but that doesn’t explain why every AI startup raises so much money in so little time, and how one reconciles that distance with any reality outside of “we can raise unlimited money forever.”  And if they can’t do that, large chunks of OpenAI and Anthropic’s revenues disappear.  Let me summarize all of this in simple terms, as it’s all terribly important. Every AI startup is effectively an extraction mechanism for OpenAI and Anthropic, reselling their tokens through their services at a massive discount because users are unwilling to pay the actual cost of using LLMs.  Using annualized run rates allows everyone to feel like this isn’t a problem, because it’s far easier to rationalize that Cognition has raised $3 billion this year and is worth $48 billion if it has $1 billion in annualized run rate rather than $80 million a month in revenue.   The obfuscation of the actual underlying financial of these companies is intentional, because it makes it harder to do the kinds of comparisons I’ve done today,  If you disagree, start giving me actual revenue numbers for these companies instead of your magic elf number you made up or got told. If you’re an investor in these companies and have not been told the actual most recent quarterly revenue, there’s a reason — the real one sucks!  If you know it, leak it if it’s so impressive. You know where to find me. Only one of us is being weird, and it’s the cloister of you who condone using bad information because you know the real number — the actual quarterly or annual revenue — is probably going to make people panic.  These companies are also, at least in theory, the ones that pay for AI compute, which means that we also have a very, very poor understanding of the actual customers behind those hundreds of billions of NVIDIA GPUs. In fact, that’s a great place to go next. People are going to get mad at me for this because they are cowards , but I posit that we have little understanding of the true price that people are paying for AI GPUs, or about the underlying economics of AI data centers writ large. Yes, yes, I know, you’re going to tell me that SiliconData has an index , and that that index shows “GPU rental prices going up,” but these prices overwhelmingly favor spot pricing — as in what it costs to rent a GPU right now — versus what companies are paying on a long term basis. It’s kind of like valuing a shipping company based on skyrocketing spot rates during a capacity shortage rather than the year (or years)-long rates that they regularly charge. You know, kind of like annualizing the data to make things look better. SiliconData claims to create a “single standardized reading,” but does so using a mishmash of non-specific data that “standardizes for rental term length, cluster scale and interconnect” in a way that only ever seems to benefit the providers.  The reason that SiliconData’s index has become so popular is that we otherwise lack many good measurements, which isn’t to say that its measurements are good , just that they’re the best we’ve got at the moment. While I think the company is doing its best with what it’s got, measuring GPU rates in general like this only seeks to confuse the market through abrupt shifts upwards and downwards based on what I imagine are larger contracts ending or beginning — not that we know, because SiliconData does not actually explain what’s changed or why it might have changed. This is a huge issue, because NVIDIA has sold $535 billion in GPUs since 2022, and we still don’t know on any reliable basis how much their customers can rent them for. We don’t know with much certainty how much it costs to run one, or have a firm grasp on what an hourly comparison would be — as in how many dollars an hour it cost to run one — outside of analyst estimates ( and my own model ) that all seem to vary wildly and always end up at a place that says “what a great investment!” There’s also some compelling evidence that the actual long-term rental rates for these things might not be as high as we think. I realize some people might read what I’m saying and immediately want to pelt me with rocks, but I’m just telling you what I’ve found, and if I’m honest, I think I’m doing a better job than the vast majority of people covering this shit, in that I’m trying to actually show what people are paying versus aggregating various publicly-available sources of information to simmer out info-slop. Again and again, I’ve found companies paying way, way less than the supposed going rate of compute. In late April, The Information ran a story about startups renting AI GPUs, specifically focusing on NVIDIA’s B200s, which SiliconData claims rent at $5.94 an hour, emphasis mine: To be clear, the B200 GPU, as part of an 8-GPU pod, works out to about $62,500 a GPU. At this rate, 32% of the first six years of its useful life would be absorbed by depreciation, assuming that it was sold in its entirety for every single hour of every single day of those years.  Then there’s Oracle’s under-construction “Stargate Abilene” data center that landowner Lancium believes will make around $10 billion in annual revenue (see slide 5). At $10 billion a year and 450,000 GB200 GPUs, which works out to — if we assume a take-or-pay rate — to about $2.54-per-hour-per-GPU. If we assume that each of these is inside a GB200 NVL72 at about $3.5 million a piece, that’s about $1.61 per-GPU-per-hour of revenue for the first six years before you get to the COGS. Then there’s this contract between Australian neocloud Sharon AI and ESDS Cloud FZ-LLC , a Dubai-based subsidiary of Indian enterprise cloud company ESDS , renting out 8208 NVIDIA B300 GPUs at $3.30 a month over 60 months (five years). If we assume a cost of $540,000 per eight-GPU B300 cluster, that leaves us with about $1.54 in depreciation over six years, leaving us with about $1.869-per-hour-per-GPU of actual revenue for the first six years, in a contract that is five years long. Here’s another. A contract I found between neocloud Kidz AI ( which rents capacity from a company called Limestone , or, more-specifically, its subsidiary Catalyst Compute) and AI inference company Canopy Wave priced 256 B300 GPUs at $4.30 an hour (per GPU) for the first three years and $3.50 an hour for the last two of the five-year-long contract. Your depreciation costs here work out to about $1.54-per-GPU-per-hour, meaning that you’re losing nearly half of your revenue for the first six years… of a five year long contract. Sure hope there aren’t new kinds of GPUs — or an abundance of older GPUs — after these things end! QumulusAI is a former cryptocurrency mining company that converted into renting GPUs. In this contract , Qumulus is renting out 128 B300 nodes — so around 1,024 B300 GPUs — at $3.70-per-GPU-per-hour, sitting at about $1.284-per-GPU-per-hour of depreciation. Again, sure hope there aren’t a bunch of data centers under construction that have the same chips as these! Buried deep in the earnings report of AI infrastructure company WhiteFiber sits a three-year-long contract with buzzy AI inference firm Baseten, which raised $1.5 billion in June : This all works out to about $1.284-per-GPU-per-hour of depreciation on $4.51-per-GPU-per-hour, which is still more than two dollars less than what SiliconData quotes. As mentioned, BaseTen just raised a ton of money, so it’s willing to pay through the nose, and even then it’s paying so much less than spot. There’s also another contract with a customer in Iceland that works out to about $3.46-per-GPU-per-hour: As I said a few weeks ago , we do not really have any firm understanding of how much AI compute actually exists , to the point that the largest companies in the world (read: Microsoft) are actively misleading the public about how much they’re bringing online. We also have no clear understanding of how much data center capacity is actually under construction, because nobody actually wants to tell us, and reports like this from Sightline Climate claiming 190GW “in planning” lump in every imaginable kind of data center with ones specializing in AI compute. As a result, basically any AI compute capacity estimates are guesses. I’ve seen somebody say there’s “50GW of capacity,” I’ve got guys in my mentions saying that actually Bloomberg is wrong in saying that Microsoft has 2GW of capacity and the real number is 5GW based on nebulous “conversations” that only ever end up as a positive for the AI industry.  In a vacuum of good information, people simply start making things up, which is why The Information published one of the more insane things I’ve read in a while , emphasis mine: I asked Okoye for an explanation, and he gave me one in the comments of the article: All of this hinges on some very wishy-washy numbers about the per-megawatt revenue of AI labs, which in turn hinge on wishy-washy numbers about how much compute labs have. For example, the New York Times reported that Anthropic would have 5GW of capacity by the end of 2026, up from 1.5GW at the end of 2025 , according to statements made to its investors, but I can find no compelling evidence that there was even a gigawatt of compute for it to buy.  If we assume these statements are accurate, then: The peanut gallery will scream and oink at me for not working out how much is inference versus training , to which I say nobody fucking knows how much of its capacity is actually diverted to inference and I don’t even think they know how much capacity Anthropic has writ large! We are basing the vast majority of words written and billions invested in the AI bubble on assumptions built on assumptions built on assumptions, several of which fall apart when you ask simple questions like “how does that work?” or “how did you get that number?”  This would all be significantly less-worrying if it wasn’t for the fact that everything is built on the idea that AI is going to be the panacea for the entire tech industry!  Put another way, NVIDIA plans to sell $670 billion or more GPUs next year on top of the more than $500 billion it’s already sold and $800 billion has been invested in AI startups mostly by people with little or no idea about the underlying economics of the data centers or their customers! A few months ago, a dear friend of mine told me that “nobody knows what they’re investing in,” and it’s taken me a while to fully understand what he meant. The entire world believes we’re in an AI-powered economic boom of data center capex and AI startup growth based on flimsy information sources that vary from fanciful to utterly hysterical, constantly guessing about how much capacity OpenAI or Anthropic or any of their hyperscale sugar daddies actually have operational, or how much a theoretical data center could charge under the best of circumstances to a customer that may or may not actually exist. We are four fucking years into the AI bubble, have little or no understanding of the actual economics of AI, and that which we do have is extremely grim. Yet when you try and tell an AI booster (or many members of the media!) that Anthropic lost $8 billion and OpenAI lost $20.97 billion in 2025, their immediate response is to say that 2026 will be fine because of quarters with discounted compute costs and adjusted operating profits that don’t actually resolve the underlying problem that these companies have $1.3 trillion in compute commitments, with at least $413 billion of them being uncancellable . The hysteria has grown so significant that Gavin Baker of investment firm Atreides (invested in both Anthropic and SpaceX) has simply chosen to suggest that “ nobody is taking them seriously ,” only to disappear into the ether when asked about which of the contracts he believes are “not taken seriously” and “by whom,” probably because he’s talking out of his ass.  This argument is one you make when you are flat out of ideas, and simply hope that people will leave you alone if you sound authoritative enough, and is known in debate circles as the “nuh uh” technique. The reason Baker is deploying it is that he, like every AI booster, knows that while you can fool the press and investors with made up numbers, there’s very little that “annualized run rates” or “ Anthropic ending the year with $100 billion in revenue ” can do when Broadcom CEO Hock Tan, who recently likened AI investors selling their investments on the news of OpenAI's adjusted financials to degenerate gamblers , asks Dario Amodei to pay some of the $161.2 billion in non-cancellable contracts he signed. We live in a climate of intense hysteria and profound confusion, made worse by a media ecosystem that currently appears more interested in sustaining narratives than investigating their underlying truths. The vast majority of hyperscaler AI revenues come from Anthropic and OpenAI’s compute spend that is dependent on near-perpetual funding, much like the vast majority of Anthropic and OpenAI’s revenues come from AI startups that depend on near-perpetual funding to continue their spend.  And to make matters worse, we quite literally have no idea about the underlying financial condition of any other AI companies outside of the main AI labs, and no, annualized run rates don’t mean jack shit.  This is extremely bad and extremely important to resolve. Anthropic and OpenAI’s growth depends on the AI startup ecosystem being able to spend increasing amounts on tokens every single month, without fail, for what appears to be the rest of time. Said startups’ ability to keep doing so depends on venture capital being willing to sling them hundreds of millions of dollars a year each , with each investment increasing the paper value of the company but adding little or no actual qualitative improvement other than their ability to keep playing at the Sam Altman Casino. I genuinely don’t know why most of the tech and business media is ignoring this problem. Is it that it’s too difficult to comprehend? Is it that you, as a writer, truly think that all of this will work out? Is it that you think that Anthropic and OpenAI will just “negotiate out” of their contracts? If that’s the case, what happens to all the data center capacity? Is it that there’s advertiser or editorial pressure to be “positive on AI”? I truly want to know!  Anyway, I’ve realized now that “nobody knows what they’re investing in” applies to basically everything. Most people writing about AI believe it’ll all work out because nothing bad has happened or they have a single statistic that affirms their worldview. Most people are still saying “it’s like Amazon Web Services!” or “it’s like Uber!” or “it’ll be like the Dot Com Bubble,” even though those are not correct or sensible or rational takes that actually mean much other than “money burn good actually,” and that thin level of rationality goes up to the highest rungs of finance and journalism to a degree that turns my fucking stomach. Most coverage of AI lives in its own bubble where nothing bad has happened or could happen, and that every promise will come true. Every deranged, multi-faceted “model” that shows OpenAI or Anthropic will print money in the future is an attempt to get away from very, very simple mathematical problems.  And, fundamentally, I’m just not sure anyone gives that much of a shit about being correct outside of sounding as close to the consensus as possible, which is why it’s been so profoundly strange hearing people say things recently that I’ve been saying for years. You can shove your fingers or whatever other objects you’ve got handy in your ears and say “la la la” all you want, but Jefferies’ Chris Wood just said that “ the most likely long-term outcome of the AI boom will be massive capital destruction in the US ,” and Barclays just said the following (aside: that lab revenue number is completely wrong, but whatever): I want to force boosters to read this like the guy at the end of A Clockwork Orange. I want them to answer me, in detail, why this is actually fine.  I already know the answer: they’d produce some sort of asinine number that shows that growth is parabolic , that there’s insatiable demand for AI compute , that Anthropic and OpenAI are the next Google and Facebook combined , that there’s not enough compute to go around , or another anecdote that is literally anything other than a meaningful response.  There is little difference between how the various run rates, projections, “models” and “frameworks” used to justify future AI investment are used and the underlying tools of a religious con, except the only community you get here is made up of zyned-up twenty-somethings and the elder millennials desperate for their approval. The AI bubble is inflated by bullshit numbers peddled by the ignorant, craven or easily-led. Your ability to distinguish between which of them you’re talking to is critical to not losing your shirt. If you liked this piece, you should subscribe to my premium newsletter. It’s $70 a year , $18 a quarter , or $7 a month , and in return you get a weekly newsletter that’s usually anywhere from 10,000 to 18,000 words and provides vast, detailed analyses of the biggest events and companies in the AI bubble. If you want to get in touch — and especially if you have any juicy information about Anthropic, OpenAI, or any other companies in the AI bubble — hit me up on Signal at ezitron.76. I’m also on IB on The Terminal. The Revenues 80% of Anthropic and OpenAI’s revenues come from 1% of their customers, the vast majority of which are AI startups that spend anywhere from 300% to 1000% of their revenue on AI tokens. AI Startups Run Services at a Loss, Allowing Users to Burn Thousands of Dollars of Tokens for Hundreds of Dollars a Month, Requiring Constant Venture Funding Customers of AI startups are repulsed by the actual cost of tokens, meaning that for every dollar of subscription revenue, AI startups must allow customers to burn anywhere from 2 times to 10 times their revenue in tokens. For example, Cognition’s $200-a-month users can spend upwards of $1200 a month in OpenAI or Anthropic tokens.  Even with these “discounted” tokens, AI startups have very small revenues. As a result, every AI startup runs at a loss. This necessitates raising massive amounts of capital every few months. Every New Model Release Artificially Boosts Revenues Through AI Startups When a new model releases, every AI startup must immediately integrate it, because that’s what their customers expect, and because the customers in question are curious , they’re likely to use the new models more on release. This means that Anthropic and OpenAI get a massive bump of new revenues — funded by AI startups that are allowing users to burn tokens without restraint — with every release. All Of This Is Only Made Possible By Perpetual Venture Funding, And Once It Expires, It Eats Anthropic and OpenAI’s Revenues Alive All it takes for one of these companies to stop being able to spend tens or hundreds of millions of dollars a month on OpenAI and Anthropic’s services to meaningfully reduce their revenue. It doesn’t really matter what big businesses are or are not using Claude or ChatGPT — the underlying revenues of these companies are held up by venture capital by proxy. Facility rent: Hut 8’s lease for this 245 MW site is $7.0B over 15 years. That is about $39M a month. Compute: IREN’s 5-year, $9.7B contract with Microsoft covers about 200 MW of GB300 GPUs. That is about $9.7M per MW-year, or about $200M a month at 245 MW. It’s a GPU contract, so treat it as a benchmark for this TPU site, not its actual price. Lab revenue: the $1.3B is the midpoint of the $50M to $75M per MW-year estimates Ann cites [referring to a comment from the author Ann Davis Vaughan]. [Ed note: Those numbers that she cites come from another article where Ric Boada, the CEO of ten-month-old neocloud Volta, saying:] He figures that the frontier AI labs are generating about $75 million in revenue per megawatt of use a year for inference output compared to an annualized cost to build and provide the infrastructure of $10 million to $15 million per megawatt a year.  Each layer is paid out of the one above it. Even at the low end, about $1.0B a month, lab revenue is roughly 5x the compute bill. That gap is why labs push datacenter developers so hard on timelines. Anthropic, which made $4.6 billion in revenue against (theoretically) 1.5GW of capacity, made about $3 million a megawatt in 2025. In 2026, assuming it makes $35 billion on 5GW of capacity, it would make $7 million a megawatt.

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Premium: The Hater's Guide To Junk

Ladies and gentlemen, we are in a glorious, splendiferous, outrageous era of crap!  Some call it “high-yield,” some call it “speculative-grade,” but to those of us living in the real world, we know them as junk bonds, the formerly-sleepy world of below-investment grade debt that’s exploded in the last six years.  Since the beginning of 2011, junk bond issuance has increased by seventy-five times , from a mere $3 billion issued against $60.8 billion in investment-grade bonds in the first half of 2011 (around 5%) to an astonishing $229 billion of junk against the $805.9 billion in the first half of 2026 — making the high-yield market about 28.4% the size of the investment-grade market. The high-yield market has ballooned over the last few years thanks to the vagaries of the global economy and, in recent years, the arrival of an entirely new category of crap.  And “junk,” in the case of today’s newsletter, is going to extend so much further than simply “high-yield,” and into the murky world of leveraged loans that have been used to fund dodgy software deals and an increasing amount of data center debt deals. So why should you give a shit about junk?  As I covered in this week’s free newsletter , Anthropic and OpenAI are two of the single-worst businesses in the history of capitalism, with negative EBITDA cashflows and massive customer concentrations, making them likely to be rated toward the lowest tiers of junk — CCC, or the equivalent rating in Moody’s system, Caa: While you probably know this, “default” refers to when a company has missed a payment on its debt and the credit agencies don’t believe that it will ever make that payment.  The AI labs will require $50 billion to $100 billion of annual issuance across the worlds of high-yield, private credit, leveraged loans (high-interest loans with floating rates issued to companies with a ton of existing debt), and revolving credit lines that, according to a source in fixed-income, are the kind of thing you only use as a last resort. They’d also be the first parts of the AI industry to truly touch the world of junk other than the disgraceful AI neoclouds, companies that raise oodles of debt with the vague promise of building AI data centers some time in an indeterminate future, but serve the more immediate benefit of pumping NVIDIA’s revenue numbers by buying GPUs years before they’ll ever dance with the power grid.  Regardless of how shitty it is, this industry needs hundreds of billions of dollars to fund the theoretical buildout of these potentially-possible data centers — CoreWeave alone, per UBS, needs to raise $102 billion in debt through 2030 — at a rate with no historical comparison. Even the railroad bubble of the 1800s had, based on rough calculations of inflation, only around $250 billion in total investment compared to the $400 billion in issuance expected from hyperscalers alone in 2027 . Yet the vast majority of companies building AI data centers range from low credit to no credit, with whatever creditworthiness they may have based near-entirely on their proximity to either NVIDIA or one of the hyperscalers that is invariably going to be their customer. The problem, you see, isn’t really the AI of it all, but the uniquely stinky business of being in AI. Even under the best possible circumstances, an AI data center will need billions of dollars up front, years in advance of any potential return on investment, buoyed only by the hype around the potential payoff at the other end.  All of this exists in a time in history when more and more companies are demanding more and more debt from the markets — including the large, wet son of Larry Ellison and his $52 billion bond/loan sale to fund their takeover of Warner Brothers Discovery , $12.4 billion of which was funded with junk due to the sheer scale of the buyout, with Paramount/Skydance/Whatever paying as much as 9.1% on the 10-year end of the deal.  And as I’ve discussed in the past , Larry Ellison’s Oracle now sits on the very last rung of investment-grade debt , with any further downgrades dropping it into the junk markets and leading to investment and pension funds legally having to dump its debt en masse, which would be a big problem considering the $30 billion or more of personal loans Ellison has collateralized using Oracle stock will face brutal margin calls in the event the stock dumps…which it will absolutely do in the event of a downgrade. Its last downgrade came from the most obvious of places, per S&P Global: Today’s exploration of junk is a culmination of multiple different threads of premium research, ranging from the AI data center bubble to the SaaSpocalypse , with massive amounts of leverage powering some of the worst deals in history, creating a setup for private credit and other investors to lose billions of dollars as a result. Welcome to the Hater’s Guide To Junk, or Enter The Crapverse.

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Credit Crunch

If you liked this piece, you should subscribe to my premium newsletter, and you can subscribe on the following links: $70 a year , $18 a quarter , or $7 a month . In return you get a weekly premium newsletter including vast, detailed analyses of NVIDIA , Anthropic and OpenAI’s finances , and the AI bubble writ large . It's a great way to support my free work, and you'll get full access to my massive archive of premium analyses of the tech and finance industry. I just did a two part Hater's Guide To AI Debt that's essential reading given the current climate around AI data center loans. On Friday, I’ll dive into the world of junk debt – or, what happens when a hyperscaler's credit rating slips into the abyss, or what might happen as a certain money-losing AI lab moves into the world of junk, building on the story I'll tell today. If you want to get in touch — and especially if you have any juicy information about Anthropic, OpenAI, or any other companies in the AI bubble — hit me up on Signal at ezitron.76. I’m also on IB on your Bloomberg Terminal.  Every day somebody asks me when or how the AI bubble will burst, what might cause it, what potential avenues I’m missing, begging, pleading for some sort of hole in the argument outside of “but what if all the bad things don’t happen and the good things are even better than we imagined?”  These questions come from everyone ranging from random internet people to hedge fund managers on my Terminal trying to squeeze me for free research, and every one carries with it some thin vein of wrongheaded hope — that there’s some subtle failure in my arguments and, in turn, some way in which this all turns out okay. Even those actively agreeing with me hesitate to follow my arguments through to their logical endpoint, mostly because doing so can make you feel a little queasy. If you actually sit and think about the consequences of what’s happening rather than just a collection of different events organized in a row that you have to remember to speak about on a podcast, it’s easy to say stuff like “ Anthropic has $413 billion in non-cancellable compute contracts ” or “ $18 billion in Oracle data center debt is trading at 84 cents on the dollar ” without ever really thinking about what any of that means.   Everyone acts as if everything in the AI boom is going to go fine, all without much consideration of the real world and its consequences for the greater tech industry. They assume that OpenAI and Anthropic will go public, grow forever, raise whatever debt they need, and that every single data center investment will work out fine. And make no mistake, these companies will need at least $50 billion or more in debt every single year, all with what will likely be low-grade junk credit ratings. It’s time to talk about why that’s very, very unlikely.  Alright kids, let’s talk about debt . Some of you are big, strong, and smart and already know this, but some of you don’t, so we’re going to all learn or re-learn together. I apologize in advance for having to go through all of this, but trust me, you want to know. Every month, the US Treasury (the part of the US government that manages the country’s money) has an auction for ten-year-dated Treasury Notes, typically referred to as “Ten Year Treasuries.” These auctions then receive bids. Regular people offer something called “non-competitive bids,” meaning they’ll say how much money they want to lend the government, and then there are competitive bids where financial institutions say “we’ll buy in at this specific interest rate.” The US government borrows over other time periods too, but that’s not important for today. US government bonds are, in general, considered “risk free,” as they’re backed by the full faith and credit of the American government. This status makes them the base for all lending, because anyone borrowing money has to compete with what the US government (or another government) offers to pay.  You’re paid your interest, in the case of the ten-year bill, every six months, with the principal repaid when the bond matures. Ten-year treasuries are considered the “ benchmark ” rate, because it’s the most actively-traded and liquid security in the world, and while mortgages in the US tend to be structured as thirty-year-long loans, most people tend to either sell or refinance their houses in the first ten years of the loan. It also represents, to paraphrase a friend in fixed-income, a period of time that’s both a long way away but not so long as to be impossible to comprehend. You’ll also notice that the “pricing” of treasuries (and bonds in general) is usually expressed in percentages rather than prices. That’s because the price of a bond doesn’t tell you how much it’ll pay you, how many payments there are left to go, or what its value is relative to other bonds. As a result, the pricing page for ten-year-dated US Treasury notes shows an interest rate — 5.33%, for example — that represents “how much money would I get on an annual basis if I invested in ten-year Treasuries today ?” based on the soup of different notes in the market based on their various maturities and interest rates.  The ten-year is considered the barometer of investor sentiment — how much the market feels comfortable lending to the US government, based on everything they do and do not know, which is why it shifts so often with economic data and the price of oil. And, importantly, when a bond “gets cheaper,” its effective interest rate goes up, because you’re paying less money for a debt instrument that pays a consistent amount.  Right now, ten-years are “selling off,” meaning that the effective interest rate on them is going up, based on a few different factors: So, while we can’t point at one reason, there are plenty of reasons that ten-years are selling off, which is in turn raising the cost of borrowing for literally everybody — consumers, hyperscalers and AI data center developers alike — in a way that’s distinctly difficult to calm down. That last part is very, very important. While stocks can recover based on good news ( even if said good news is entirely fictional ), the price of ten-year-dated treasuries is reacting to so many different economic indicators that even the things that should calm it down — like lower-than-expected jobs numbers — aren’t stopping them from dumping. And so when the ten-years dump, the base interest rate of almost everything increases, and some of the things that are becoming more expensive as a result are actively contributing to the problem. The US Government cannot afford to stop issuing debt, the wars in Iran and Ukraine aren’t going anywhere, and hyperscalers expect to issue $400 billion in bonds in 2027 alone . As a result, everything gets more expensive for everyone, and the worse your credit is, the worse this gets. So, now that we know all that, we can speak to the larger problem. When somebody borrows money, they do so priced at a “spread” above the equivalent-dated US Treasuries — usually judged based on the underlying economic health of the company, the general vibe about the kind of thing they’re borrowing for, and the current ‘price’ (read: effective yield) of their debt, usually measured based on its “spread” from today’s US Treasury prices. This means your borrowing prices can go up based on a few factors: So if your company — say, Oracle — has a bunch of bad press about its debt being distressed , the market will “price” more risk in, selling off the current debt and pricing it as if the effective yield was higher, setting a floor for how expensive your debt will be. This floor will also increase because the price of US treasuries is likely higher today than it was when you raised. I’ll give you an example. As I discussed last week , Oracle’s $18 billion September bond sale would have (yes, the number has gone up) over $7 billion in added interest over the course of the bonds due to both the sell-off of Oracle’s debt and the overall Treasuries market.  At the time, ten-year-dated US Treasury notes were at a mere 4.13% — as mentioned above, a 0.06% increase is significant, so a 120 basis point difference is gigantic — but Oracle’s overall risk has also exploded along with them.  At the time, spreads were between 105bps and 165bps (so 1.05% to 1.65%) above US Treasuries. Today, those spreads range from 171bps to 282bps, a double dose of pain at a time when  the market sentiment is that it doesn’t trust Oracle as much as it did in September — as in how much more it’s demanding over the benchmark rate offered by the government — has increased along with the cost of the benchmark itself.   And so, while I’m not going to repeat everything I went over last week , the point I’m making is that anyone raising any AI-related debt is going to get shafted by both overall Treasury prices , sentiment around AI in general, and their own specific financial situation. Yet Oracle is, at least for now, “investment grade,” which means that even though its debt “trades like junk” (IE: investors are asking for effective yields of anything around the high-yield index’s average of 8.2% ) , it’s in a much better position to borrow than the vast majority of AI data center SPVs or neoclouds like CoreWeave, which has Goatse-level spreads of 672bps to 882bps, with the effective yield on its shortest-dated debt (four years) sitting at 11.53% and its longest-dated (a mere six years) sitting at 13.49%. There are, of course, ways around borrowing on your credit profile. For example, when CoreWeave opened an $8.5 billion delayed draw term loan facility in March 2026 , it was able to get it rated as investment-grade and at SOFR (the percentage on overnight borrowing from the Fed for banks) plus 2.25%, all because the counterparty was Meta, and thus the underlying payments would be considered “safe.” This may seem like the cheat code to get around all these horrifying rates, except CoreWeave, per analysts at UBS, needs to raise $102 billion in debt through 2030, which means it will have to keep raising on its own two feet. Well, there’s a problem there. Per The Information , “cracks are beginning to form” in the AI data center debt boom: Long-term Zitronistas will remember when I brought up some of these names in my end-of-year-2025 piece The Enshittifinancial Crisis , with SMBC present in seven and MUFJ present in seventeen of the data center deals I analyzed, with one or both of them in effectively every Stargate and CoreWeave debt sale, and both involved in SoftBank’s $15 billion 2025 bridge loan . “More selective” doesn’t necessarily mean “done investing,” but is more akin to the lights going on in a particularly-rowdy party and seeing who may or may not have pissed themselves. Data center debt is now pricing based on increasingly-sour sentiment driven by power delays, local pushback and a general anxiety that maybe these debts won’t actually get paid. They also might realize that their due diligence was lacking when it came to building some of the most-ambitious infrastructure projects in history . Here’s an example of how deep the due diligence was for Blue Owl’s $10 billion investment in AI data center projects, per The Information :  In any case, AI data center debt is way more expensive now by virtue of the current state of treasuries, with costs compounded by the anxiety around them in general.  This means that any “virgin” projects — those that aren’t directly backstopped or co-signed by hyperscalers — are guaranteed to hit egregiously-high, 9% to 14% rates, which makes ( as I discussed a few weeks ago in my two-part debt series ) it near-impossible to make the already-questionable economics of running a data center work.  This means that any AI data center debt being raised right now is doing so under stricter credit conditions and doing so at unrealistic, unsustainable prices, if they’re going to be able to raise at all. This makes the $174 billion in debt that SB Energy needs to raise to fund its theoretical data center project with OpenAI — even when backstopped by NVIDIA — either horrendously expensive or impossible to complete, as does it mean that any future large, multi-gigawatt projects will add billions of dollars in interest payments to already-expensive debt. This all makes pontifications that data center spending will increase to $32 trillion by 2050 equal parts stupid and wasteful, on top of the overall problem that there isn’t even enough demand right now for hyperscalers to break even on their 2026 and 2027 capex plans .  Yet data centers are buildings with stuff in them that, in theory, could be repossessed and leased to another party — or at least sold off — in the event of a default. Investors would theoretically get some sort of return (based on the seniority of their debt, but that’s not important right now) if CoreWeave died, or if Oracle’s Project Jupiter (the one connected to its “Force Majeure” notice ) failed to secure power. We’ve got another problem on the horizon, and nobody seems to be talking about it. Back in June , Anthropic President Daniela Amodei said the following at a conference: Quick question, Daniela: are they?   Nobody seems to want to talk about what Anthropic’s plan is once it goes public as far as continuing to raise egregious amounts of capital. Once a public company, Anthropic will no longer be able to raise venture capital at its current scale (over $95 billion in 2026) alone, and if it intends to raise even half that much on a yearly basis , it will become one of the largest issuers of junk-grade debt in history. In both AI labs’ cases, they are most-decidedly going to be priced like junk , even if the malignant scumbags are able to con ratings agencies into giving them investment-grade ratings , because while the bond markets listen to credit ratings, they price based on what the actual company looks like , guaranteeing Oracle-esque 8% minimum yields on whatever they issue. The problem is that OpenAI and Anthropic don’t really have assets . They don’t own any of their data center infrastructure, the chips inside, or even their office buildings, and that’s before mentioning their negative cashflows and products under constant threat from cheaper open source alternatives.  This means there’s very little for the company to offer as collateral, and would be raising debt based on a theoretical break-even point somewhere in the future, one that they would both have to actually explain with a level of depth that neither of them have had to deal with.  The big difference between Anthropic/OpenAI and SpaceX is that the debt in question would be raised to fund company operations rather than capital expenditures , as training costs are not capex and at least based on OpenAI’s audited financials are considered operating expenses. While CoreWeave loses a bunch of money , those losses mostly come from the expensive debt it has to take on to fuel its capex ambitions and the depreciation of its GPUs, meaning that it has (if you remove its largest costs!) a positive EBITDA. This difference also likely precludes either company from raising capital via an SPV or other off-balance sheet funding, because those are collateralized using the underlying asset, such as Anthropic’s $161.2 billion in non-cancelable contracts to lease back Broadcom’s TPUs . Convertible bonds — low-interest bonds that can convert if a stock price is hit or, at maturity, allow investors to take stock or cash — are an option, but run the real risk that the stock is lower than when the bonds were issued, meaning that Anthropic or OpenAI would have to pony up a ton of cash. The only exception would be an SPV tied to customer payments which I’ll get to in a bit. Yet things get a little messier when you factor in non-cancelable contracts, which total $413 billion in Anthropic’s case across the next seven to ten years, guaranteeing financial strain at a time when future cashflows are far from guaranteed. Take-or-pay agreements — the subprime mortgages of the AI bubble — are considered debt equivalents in the eyes of creditors, which would in turn drag on cashflows.  You see, you can jingle the keys of "annualized run rates” and “ adjusted operating income ” in the faces of venture capitalists and journalists as much as you want, but investors require actual cashflows, even within a frothy market. Anthropic’s vulgar “ Earnings Before Training, Interest and Taxes ” measurement does not matter when the entire calculation is made on cashflows , and any attempts to act otherwise are either ignorant or deceptive. EBITDA, of course, refers to Earnings Before Interest, Depreciation and Amortization, which means that all “above the line” costs — such as inference costs, training costs, SG&A and leases — are counted, but the cost of depreciating assets like GPUs (of which Anthropic and OpenAI have none) and interest is left off. Let me give you a very straightforward example from my own story on OpenAI’s audited 2025 financials , when it had $34 billion of expenses and $13.07 billion in losses, for an EBITDA of $20.92 billion, or an EBITDA margin of negative 160%. At that EBITDA, it would immediately slam the door shut on an investment-grade rating for OpenAI or Anthropic, and likely get rated between a B (highly speculative) and a CCC+ (substantial credit risk). If ratings agencies push through at that grade, it means they are completely and utterly corrupt, and going against their own guidance about how credit ratings are provided. Every single metric underlying an investment grade rating comes from EBITDA, and SpaceX was only able to qualify through the success of Starlink as a profitable business. S&P Global also penalizes revenue concentration — specifically referring to customers or products making up a large slice of revenue. In Anthropic and OpenAI’s case, they effectively have two products — the API and subscriptions — and nearly a quarter of Anthropic’s 2025 revenue came from two customers . While SpaceX is a shitty company, it’s a diversified one. OpenAI and Anthropic are not. In any case, if either gets an investment-grade rating, it’s likely that a hyperscaler has stepped up and guaranteed some or all of the debt, but in doing so, they’d likely sacrifice part of their own credit rating in the process. The same might happen — as hinted at above above — through a rotten kind of SPV, where the hyperscaler guarantees a certain amount of contracted revenue to OpenAI, allowing a connected SPV to raise at an investment-grade interest rate.  If we assume that OpenAI or Anthropic gets a junk rating, it becomes entirely-unable to raise from the investment grade market, leaving it with dwindling options based on how junky that rating is. The problem they face there is that even the highest-rated level of junk (BB+) requires sustained cashflows, and even lower rungs like B+, B and B- need some sort of path to EBITDA positivity.  Each level of junk grade carries its own limits in both how much money they could raise based on their particular financial profile and the hard-and-fast rules of various funds investing in high yield debt.  When I say “CLO-eligible term loans,” I’m referring to collateralized loan obligation funds that scoop up large buckets of loans and resell them as one investment vehicle, buying somewhere between 60% and 75% of corporate loans . These CLOs also have their own rules about exposure to debt based on various factors, including industries and credit rating, and depending on where OpenAI or Anthropic fell, the demand for their loans — and secondary sales of their loans (because investors LOVE to resell debt!) deteriorate dramatically based on their rating. The following assumes a $2 trillion valuation, which is far from a foregone conclusion. If we assume $50 billion is what they need on a yearly basis, this becomes increasingly difficult based on the credit rating. As you can see, debt alone isn’t getting these companies $50 billion a year outside of a rating that’s near-impossible outside of ratings agencies defaulting on their jobs. In theory, at a $2 trillion valuation, both Anthropic and OpenAI could sell directly onto the market, but using this as a serious ongoing funding mechanism naturally depresses the price, though the scale of the float — as in how many shares were sold at the IPO.  At that valuation and a planned raise of $60 billion to $100 billion , Anthropic will have a very small float — around 5% — which would mean it was naturally capped on how many shares it could dump in a particular year. It’s hard to gauge this based on the unknowns of its trading volume, but if I had to guess, there’s maybe $20 billion in annual share sales it could do. Ahhhhh HHHH FINE YOU WANT TO TALK ABOUT UBER SO BADLY WE’RE GONNA TALK ABOUT UBER AND AMAZON AND TESLA! I’ll add that both Anthropic and OpenAI want to raise $50 billion at IPO.  In other words, stop making these comparisons, they are not accurate. I realize I’ve gone through a lot of technical stuff so far, but the reality is pretty simple: Anthropic and OpenAI do not resemble the financial condition of any company I could find in the history of the stock market outside of WeWork. They are unprofitable, unsustainable, and the only conditions under which they could raise significant debt would involve catastrophic failures of regulatory and ratings bodies.  I’ll add that the only thing worse than allowing them to go public will be to allow them to raise debt at anything other than the junkiest levels that the market has to offer. These are not stable businesses, nor are they run with much regard for their underlying capital or employees. Both of them have massive amounts of concentration risk , unstable customers , brittle economics, own virtually no assets, and have demonstrated little to no ability to reduce their costs outside of questionable accounting that doesn’t change the fact that they cannot afford their bills. As a result of their $1.3 trillion in compute commitments, neither company can become “capital efficient” by cutting their training costs, because said training costs are the only means of further growth outside of massive price increases that are unlikely to grow their businesses. To make matters worse, both are cutting prices to compete with each other, and per Ramp , said price cuts aren’t increasing usage: Neither company can afford to exist without near-infinite resources, and neither company can afford to slow down due to their massive compute commitments, which have become materially linked to the future growth trajectories of effectively every hyperscaler, as well as Broadcom, which — in pursuit of becoming NVIDIA — has added ruinous amounts of debt at the worst time in history to do so. And that’s really the biggest problem here. While Anthropic and OpenAI are yet to pillory the debt markets, their counterparties — and those inspired by them — have been doing so for years with little or no return on investment. As I discussed a few weeks ago , there are currently over $200 billion of NVIDIA GPUs sitting uninstalled in warehouses, with Morgan Stanley ( as found by Bryce Elder of the FT ) estimating that more than half of GPUs sold in 2026 through 2028 won’t have anywhere to plug in. Hundreds of billions of dollars have been spent on data center capex for effectively no reason, outside of the belief that there’s “insatiable demand for AI compute” when the reality is that more than 70% of all AI revenues — and I estimate more than 80% of all compute sales — are from Anthropic and OpenAI taking up whatever capacity comes online, leaving very little left for the rest of the world and creating the illusion of massive demand. Both of these companies want to dump themselves onto the public markets, raise tens of billions of dollars of debt a year, and dump further shares onto unsuspecting investors based on unrealistic revenue projections of hundreds of billions of dollars a year by 2028 . Both OpenAI and Anthropic are astonishingly bad businesses, losing $20.92 billion and $8 billion respectively in 2025. The best response that anyone has got to these shocking figures is to vaguely point to adjusted profitability numbers provided by companies that have constantly shared deceptive annualized run rate figures as a means of obfuscating their financial condition. And these companies account for, per their own obligations, $1.3 trillion of future earnings across Microsoft, Google, SpaceX, Oracle, and Amazon, with $413 billion of Anthropic’s commitments being non-cancellable , and OpenAI projecting to spend at least $750 billion on compute through the end of 2030 , with no answer as to how these companies afford to do so.  Analyst expectations have OpenAI and Anthropic contributing at least $444 billion in revenue across hyperscalers in the next three years , and if this revenue fails to arrive — either through insolvency or renegotiation of terms — every connected hyperscaler will see massive revenue misses. These are not hyperbolic, mean-hearted or “skeptical” claims, but the hard mathematics underlying an industry that so often convinces those supposedly analyzing it to ignore good sense and assume that nothing bad will ever happen. Meanwhile, nobody seems to be taking the shocking financial condition of Oracle very seriously, despite effectively every warning light blinking at once. It is beyond abnormal for a company backing an $18 billion data center project to give a “ force majeure ” notice no matter what it says on Twitter , and suggests that the $340 billion in data centers it’s building for OpenAI are materially behind schedule, on top of the fact that Oracle is making sounds like it doesn’t intend to pay its debts, which is extremely alarming!  And make no mistake,  if Oracle builds these data centers and OpenAI doesn’t pay for them, it will face an existential financial risk unseen in the history of the tech industry. Oracle’s revenue has been flat for fifteen years when adjusted for inflation , with its only growth coming from its wrongheaded acquisition of Cerner in 2021 and selling AI compute that destroy its gross margins , with its largest company being a technically-insolvent startup with volatile economics and a CEO who wants us to accept “bad things will happen” in exchange for whatever ChatGPT is supposed to be . The problem Oracle also faces is that things don’t have to collapse for a collapse to occur. Chairman and founder Larry Ellison just added another $9.2 billion in stock-backed personal loans to his already-large pile , bringing it (by my count) to around $30 billion, and the margin calls will start somewhere around $60 a share for a stock that pumps and dumps based on any OpenAI news, meaning that anything along the lines of “OpenAI can’t pay Oracle” is guaranteed to start a spiral.  The only reason this hasn’t happened yet is that the media and the markets are unwilling to accept the sheer impossibility of Oracle’s $300 billion, five-year-long deal with OpenAI that neither company can afford and Oracle doesn’t have the capacity to serve . Every one of the “Stargate” data centers is heavily behind schedule, and Stargate Abilene — which Oracle claims is “75% delivered” — has no more than half of its capacity installed, not that anyone bothers to check these things or investigate the claims of anyone connected to the AI bubble. I roll my eyes at the feint and whiny concerns from Bloomberg about “risk related to Larry Ellison” as a result of Paramount’s huge debt raise . Anyone with a fucking calculator and an interest in the truth could’ve seen last year that none of the underlying economics of Oracle’s situation made much sense, it just required not immediately assuming that every AI data center was a perfect angel that would be birthed without fail onto a world flush with cash. Then there’s the shocking deterioration of semiconductor firm Broadcom, which is tied to Anthropic for at least $161 billion in non-cancelable chip leases, which has in turn forced Broadcom to raise $60 billion in debt to build them . Broadcom is, as covered in my Premium Hater’s Guide , a company already bathed in debt thanks to its 2023 acquisition of VMware, one that appears to be taking on tens of billions more as a means of selling TPUs to a company that may or may not exist by the time there’s a data center to put them in. How, exactly, is Anthropic meant to pay for all of those compute leases (or all of that compute) based on its current financial position? Taking away however I may feel about AI in general, for it to reach a size where it can handle even a hundred billion dollars a year in annual operating expenses — Microsoft, by comparison, is at around $176 billion — Anthropic would have to become one of the single-largest cash generators in the history of capitalism, or such a large participant in the world’s debt markets that it starts sucking up cash from the already-distressed and desperate customers of the CCC (lowest tier of junk) bond market . While a few people have danced with the edges of the potential insolvency of OpenAI and Anthropic, nobody seems to want to talk about the actual consequences, choosing always to take one shot of hopium before getting into the grisly details, with the assumption being that something will go alright — so I’m going to rain on everyone’s parade and go through each point one by one. The reason that so many of these misunderstandings exist is that people do not, on the whole, are surprisingly optimistic about basically any consensus opinion. Everybody has been saying that AI data centers are the next industrial revolution, NVIDIA’s stock has gone parabolic, every media outlet has constantly discussed Anthropic and OpenAI, and every hyperscaler has sunk hundreds of billions of dollars over the last few years into AI, which in turn makes you believe that everyone must be right and that everything will be alright by extension. This immediately makes people turn off the parts of their brain that feature critical thinking, because the alternatives are so utterly opposed to what’s been promised by this industry and the media. The assumption is always that this much money can’t be wrong , or that these are the smartest people in the world , or that these are the largest and most-successful companies in the world , even though none of these statements actually answers a single question about “ how the fuck does all of this actually work?”   Even if you think AI is the most wonderful, beautiful software tool ever imagined, there is no rational basis under which you can look at the current economic picture and say that everything will be fine.   The future I am talking about — one where most data center debt goes unpaid, where OpenAI and Anthropic fail to meet their obligations, and when AI GPU sales grind to a halt — involves Google, Microsoft and Amazon having catastrophic misses on their earnings expectations, and their future revenue growth stories collapsing, along with NVIDIA’s revenues dropping as much as 90% once the debt-backed AI capex boom ends. It involves CoreWeave, IREN, Nebius, and every other neocloud running out of money, fucking over investors in both their stock and debt some time in the next few years, with the underlying collateral made up of otherwise-useless data center construction and GPUs that will, at that point, be in a supply glut rivaling the Atari video game burial . I must be clear that I only have to be half right for things to be extremely bad. NVIDIA’s revenue growth cannot be sustained without endless debt issuance at a time when issuing debt is incredibly expensive, all in pursuit of data center construction that takes years to complete for customers that may or may not exist when it does so.  Hyperscalers have no other hypergrowth ideas left — no new Google Search, Microsoft 365, or Facebook — to sell investors, and in pursuit of AI have become the most asset-burdened companies on the Fortune 500, rivaling ExxonMobil, Berkshire Hathaway and Chevron, except instead of oil and diverse stocks they have GPUs that only retain value during a hype cycle. And there really is no hope for the $800 billion or so invested in AI startups in the last four years , as AI acquisitions are thin thanks to their high costs, miserable revenues and utter lack of intellectual property. I’m not sure venture capital — or anyone covering venture capital — has actually conceptualized how significant the losses may be, because I can see a world where virtually every AI investment goes to zero at a time when venture capital is facing an historic losing streak. In fact, I’m not sure anyone is trying to conceptualize what actually happens once the bubble bursts, because doing so requires you to think not just in terms of wasted capital, but about hundreds of billions of dollars of unpaid loans, dead AI investments, half-finished data center projects, and a stock market where 24% of the S&P 500’s value comes from five companies with stock prices boosted by theoretical returns on AI investments that are mostly from OpenAI and Anthropic. The fact we’re living in this bizarre juxtaposition of reality where we can run headlines about OpenAI-connected data centers never getting completed and its massive losses aside headlines about $50 trillion in data center construction by 2050 is a sign that nobody is taking the threat seriously enough.  I would love to say that I think I’m overreacting somehow, but I spend every single week running the numbers and actively looking for evidence that I’m wrong, mostly because the world, despite discussing the fragility of the AI bubble, doesn’t seem to want to think about it actually bursting.  I encourage you to do so, even if you’re pro-AI, even if you truly disagree with me, because this is extremely serious, and you can’t pay $1.3 trillion in commitments with hope. You can truly, madly love LLMs, you can name your dog Dario and your guinea pig Sam, I don’t care, but please, I’m begging you, stop making assumptions based on the best-case scenario, and start taking this seriously, because the consequences of me being right have global stakes.  Anyway, I’ll leave you with a chart from Torsten Slok, Chief Economist at Apollo , and a very reasonable question: if all of these tech companies are expecting record earnings over the next few years, where exactly will the cash come from? The fact we can’t cleanly answer this question as hundreds of billions of dollars get sunk into AI data centers may be the most glaring miss in the history of finance.  If you liked this piece, you should subscribe to my premium newsletter. It’s $70 a year , $18 a quarter , or $7 a month , and in return you get a weekly newsletter that’s usually anywhere from 10,000 to 18,000 words and provides vast, detailed analyses of the biggest events and companies in the AI bubble. If you want to get in touch — and especially if you have any juicy information about Anthropic, OpenAI, or any other companies in the AI bubble — hit me up on Signal at ezitron.76. I’m also on IB on The Terminal. The US government has over $40 trillion in debt, and to pay off that debt, the US government issues more debt, with interest payments making up 14% of all federal spending , and the federal deficit (IE: how much more the government spends than it pulls in in revenue) sitting around $2 trillion a year, meaning that, at minimum, it’ll need to borrow an additional $2 trillion in 2027 beyond what it borrowed in 2026 just to pay what Congress has authorized in spending, and the same amount again in 2028 if the deficit stays the same next year. This means that anyone pricing US Treasuries is doing so under the virtual guarantee that the US government will have to issue more debt . The alternative is that the US government cuts social security, medicaid or military spending, which would be very unpopular, and thus very unlikely to happen. The wars in Iran and Ukraine are putting increasing pressure on the world’s oil supplies, because higher fuel costs push up inflation because they increase the cost of effectively everything — both driving and flying to places, which is how most people and goods move around the world, as well as the cost of electricity (particularly where natural gas is concerned).  As I wrote a couple of weeks back, the war in Iran has also cut the supply of other raw materials, including sulfur (which is used in fertilizers), helium, and aluminium, further exacerbating the inflation crisis.  With the price of everything (at least in theory) inflating, investors demand that their bonds pay them at a rate that matches the rate of inflation.  There’s an ongoing debate — discussed here by the Financial Times — about whether US data center debt issuance has reached a point when it’s creating meaningful competition for US government debt, specifically that issued by Google, Meta, and Amazon, because these “stable” companies are offering attractive rates that are, in the eyes of some investors, as stable as lending to the US government. While it’s had some effect, it isn’t the big reason that the ten-year is selling off. The price of equivalent US treasuries at the time you are issuing the debt. The current price of the company’s debt. Amazon went public in May 1997, raised $54 million ($112 million adjusted for inflation), didn’t get a credit rating at the time (it didn’t issue corporate debt at the time), and had a negative 19% EBITDA margin. It was profitable four years later.  Uber went public in May 2019, got a B+ Credit Rating, had an EBITDA of -$2.7 billion, and an EBITDA margin of negative 21%, taking its first EBITDA profitability in Q2 2023 . It raised $8.1 billion at IPO ($10.6 billion in today’s money). By comparison, OpenAI’s EBITDA margin for 2025 was negative 160%. NVIDIA Will Still Have Customers After The AI Bubble! Sure it will — for its gaming segment that is now so small that it’s blended into “Edge computing” on its earnings. As I’ve discussed previously, 50% to 60% of NVIDIA’s revenues are coming from hyperscalers that are actively participating in the AI boom, and without that boom (and the debt necessary to keep buying chips), nobody else is buying them at anything close to today’s scale. If Anthropic and OpenAI die, all that data center compute will be used by someone else one day! OpenAI and Anthropic represent 80%+ of all compute demand, and their customers — unprofitable venture-backed AI startups — make up 80% of their enterprise revenues , which means they’re likely to die before OpenAI and Anthropic. Someone else will pay for the capacity if they don’t! Who? Who is actually spending money on AI compute? I’ve looked everywhere and I’ve found at the very , very best $22 billion of non-OpenAI/Anthropic compute purchases ! All of this capacity will be useful after the bubble bursts! No it won’t! Any AI data center that’s yet to be completed will cost just as much (if not more so) to finish in a few years as it will today, much like the electricity costs are going to be. In addition, the vast majority of customers for AI compute are unprofitable AI startups that want to compete with OpenAI and Anthropic, meaning that once the venture spigot turns off, nobody will want it. AI services are like airlines — you stand up inference based on the amount of customers you might have, and need to guess correctly about your demand, because if you’re off in either direction, you lose a ton of money. With most of the demand for AI driven by endless media and peer pressure, once the AI bubble bursts, the “demand” for AI services will be entirely driven by utility…and considering most services lose money even during the hype cycle , it’s hard to see what post-bubble economy even exists. This means that it’s unlikely that we’ll have a “booming open source AI market” in the end , and at best we’ll have some sort of handicapped Google monstrosity, though even that seems less likely based on the fallout I fear. Anthropic and OpenAI can just cut their costs! With hundreds of billions of dollars in non-cancellable commitments, neither of these companies can “cut their costs.” OpenAI and Anthropic are the fastest growing companies of all time! Based on annualized run rates that are pegged to non-specific periods of time, all as their costs explode and they sign non-cancelable agreements. If Anthropic and OpenAI die, there will be other winners! Who? There are no other AI companies that are growing anywhere near as fast or have customer bases that come close to Anthropic and OpenAI, and those customers are mostly other AI startups. If Anthropic and OpenAI die, it’s because their customers died, which means their customers won’t be the “winners.”

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Premium: How Has AI Changed The Economy?

This week, the Wall Street Journal ran an alarming illustration of AI’s potential share of GDP that I’d argue did more to muddy the waters than actually telling anyone anything, mostly because its measurement, for whatever reason, covered 2025 to 2032, meaning that six out of the eight years of the analysis were estimates of spending. To be fair, this analysis came from the Brookings Institution’s Stijn van Nieuwerburgh rather than the Journal itself, but I cannot express how profoundly unhelpful it is to discuss things years in the future.  The Journal itself acknowledged this, giving us a far-more-useful number, emphasis mine: Yet it’s important to be specific that this is almost entirely a result of AI data center construction and GPU sales rather than anything to do with the companies actually renting AI compute. In other words, AI itself isn’t helping boost America’s economic growth, but rather the infrastructure for it to theoretically run on. This is extremely problematic, because it means that at some point data center construction will slow or stop ( as discussed in this week’s free newsletter ) through some combination of moratoriums and ever-pricier debt, removing any contribution to GDP and leaving AI — either through the revenue generated from selling services or productivity improvements — to cover the shortfall. The problem with calculating the exact contribution of the tech industry is that so many different pieces of these companies flow into different “industries” (of which there are seventeen in total) in the BEA’s data based on the specific economic contribution.  For example, Apple’s services vertical (like iCloud) would flow into the “US Information/ICT” indices of GDP calculation, but its sales of iPhones, Macs and iPads would flow into manufacturing, the same place where NVIDIA’s GPU sales would go. ICT also doesn’t include consultancy revenue or IT services from companies like Accenture, but that isn’t really relevant to the analysis. In any case, the ICT industry’s contribution to GDP is actually very, very useful for this calculation, because it specifically includes sales of AI software and rentals of AI GPUs. There’re two numbers to look at here. As a share of nominal GDP — strictly how many dollars it’s contributed to GDP — tech’s contribution has been flat for the last two years. In other words, all those supposed GPU rentals and AI software sales in 2024 and 2025 didn’t really do much on an economic basis.  I can already hear someone screaming that we need to measure “real GDP” — which factors in improvements to software and hardware that would theoretically boost the real GDP contribution of the ICT industry.  The problem I have with that analysis is that the BLS’s Producer Price Index for Software Publishers — a measure of how prices for packaged software have changed over time that the BEA uses to calculate real GDP — is currently sitting lower than it was in 1997, suggesting that software prices have dropped over time in a period where general prices have roughly doubled. This isn’t remotely accurate based on the actual experience of people buying software. As I covered in the Hater’s Guide To The SaaSpocalypse , more than half of SaaS companies have increased their prices every single year since 2022, customers are paying more every year for the same features, and overall SaaS inflation ran over nine percentage points higher than consumer inflation every single month of 2025. This problem began in or around 2022, when Microsoft bumped up prices , inspiring industry-wide inflation. In other words, the BLS’ “quality” adjustments appear to be treating many of these price increases as customers getting better software for their money, rather than paying more money for the same software, with the BEA in turn counting that as businesses buying more software.  The BLS believes that software is effectively the same price as it was in 1997, largely because giving customers “more value” and allowing them to “do more,” which does not make sense if you’ve used a Microsoft product recently.  The BLS’ preferred method for these adjustments is based on the cost of the change (IE: how much more it costs to provide), meaning that any price increase connected to AI services, which require expensive tokens to provide, could be potentially considered the same or even lower-priced in the eyes of the BLS.  The BLS’ data is understating how much the cost of software has actually increased in the last few years, and as a result, the BEA may be — accidentally — overstating its contribution to GDP. And AI services are only making things worse. With that in mind, I calculated the gross value (a business’ sales minus its costs bought from other businesses, so no wages included) added by the ICT industry against real GDP, and found that while tech’s share has grown steadily, said growth hasn’t changed dramatically in the era of AI, even using the BEA’s own flattering figures. All of this is to say that even with various statistics agencies having a fairly distorted view of the tech industry — at least when it comes to selling software and renting infrastructure — the AI era’s contribution feels a little mediocre.  In preparing this newsletter, I’ve realized something a little worrying: that basically every economic analysis of “AI’s contribution to the economy” is based on either flawed data or flimsy assumptions about AI and the tech industry itself. Economists have tied themselves in knots trying to rationalize the astonishing amounts of money invested in AI, and in doing so haven’t made sure that even their simplest assumptions — like how much the tech industry itself contributes — are meaningfully capturing what’s going on. Today’s newsletter is a frank evaluation of AI’s true effect on the economy, specifically focused on actually measuring what’s happening today rather than the endless analyses of hypotheticals that you’ll find everywhere else. You see, everybody is obsessed with metrics that don’t matter — cost-per-token, teraflops, and vague analyses of jobs data — all to avoid a much grimmer point: that when you remove the capex, AI has had a negligible effect on GDP.  And beneath the surface, I’ve found evidence that software sales’ contribution to GDP may have been meaningfully misstated since 2022.

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Dead Money

If you liked this piece, you should subscribe to my premium newsletter, and you can subscribe on the following links: $70 a year , $18 a quarter , or $7 a month . In return you get a weekly premium newsletter including vast, detailed analyses of NVIDIA , Anthropic and OpenAI’s finances , and the AI bubble writ large . It's a great way to support my free work, and you'll get full access to my massive archive of premium analyses of the tech and finance industry. I just did a two part Hater's Guide To AI Debt that's essential reading given the current climate around AI data center loans. On Friday, I’ll interrogate generative AI’s effect on the economy to date — the dubious claims about productivity, the consequences of hyperscaler spending on treasury yields, how it’s driving inflation, and what could happen when the bubble finally pops.  If you want to get in touch — and especially if you have any juicy information about Anthropic, OpenAI, or any other companies in the AI bubble — hit me up on Signal at ezitron.76. I’m also on IB on your Bloomberg Terminal.  Soundtrack: Flobots - Mayday!!! Last week, Fidelity Director of Global Macro Jurien Timmer said that “the [AI trade] has been dead money for more than three months,” citing that both token expenditures and GPU lease rates were all “flat to down,” citing specifically rental rates for H100 and A100 GPUs. While the counterargument might be that Blackwell GPU rental rates aren’t included, as I discussed last week , it’s questionable how many B200, B300, or other Blackwell chips are actually available for rent, as it appears that anywhere from $200 billion to $300 billion of NVIDIA’s sales since 2022 are sitting in warehouses or unplugged in data centers waiting for power. The Financial Times’ Bryce Elder took the ball and ran with it , and found research that backed up what I’d been saying, emphasis mine: Yet Elder makes the point, based on research from Jefferies, that there’re far more problems than simply not having enough power: In other words, the talking point that NVIDIA’s GPU sales are proof of actual demand for AI services or, indeed, that hyperscaler growth is a result of all those capital expenditures is a complete lie. In reality, at least half of all those chip sales — and I’d add in Broadcom’s TPU sales too ( see my Hater’s guide for more ) — are being made years before anything actually happens with the chips, making the trillion-plus dollars spent on capex so far seem somewhere between optimistic and utterly incoherent. Microsoft, Google, Amazon, Meta, Oracle, and far too many other companies have been hoarding hundreds of billions of dollars of AI chips that they either ( to quote Microsoft CEO Satya Nadella ) can’t plug in or simply want to have in supply for reasons that I find tough to imagine.  Even the argument that they’re in reserve for the (eventual) day when they’ll be installed in a data center, and that by purchasing well in advance, they’re not bottlenecked by NVIDIA’s ability to ship AI chips, doesn’t feel credible given the extent of the hyperscaler GPU spending spree. Especially considering that much of NVIDIA’s backlog exists because hyperscalers and neoclouds are stockpiling its GPUs.  Trevor Noren of Sage Road Research noted that he’d heard from a venture capitalist that “...some companies are hoarding colossal amounts in case they come to a point at which they don’t have enough chips to provide the computing capacity,” as if there’s been any shortage of NVIDIA chips, outside of the illusory one created by hyperscalers buying them years in advance.  So, we’ve got a situation where Microsoft, Google, Amazon, Meta, SpaceX, CoreWeave, and every imaginable neocloud is sitting on hundreds of billions of uninstalled GPUs (and increasingly TPUs). Whenever more capacity comes online, it’s immediately sold to OpenAI or Anthropic, who make up anywhere from 70% to 80% of all AI revenues and compute demand , creating the illusion that revenue growth is “coming from demand for AI compute” rather than said demand coming from two companies that have been fed over $217 billion in the last nine months, with the vast majority of it coming from Google, Amazon, Microsoft, and NVIDIA themselves.  As I discussed last week , If “demand is outstripping supply” because of millions of customers begging for AI compute, that’s very different to “demand outstripping supply” because two or three (including Meta) customers are taking up most or all of the capacity. Not to repeat myself, but… And that’s absolutely what’s happening, suggesting that the “AI boom” is more like five or six large companies (hyperscalers) feeding money to two companies (NVIDIA and Broadcom) so that they can feed money to two companies (Anthropic and OpenAI) who then feed that money back to them whenever capacity comes online. I estimate that there’s around $22 billion of global, non-Anthropic/OpenAI compute demand , and an indeterminately-large chunk of that is coming from AI startups that can only afford to pay for the compute as long as venture capital continues to fund them… …which is also the problem that Anthropic and OpenAI themselves face, as 80% of their enterprise revenues come from 1% of their customer base , with the vast majority of that being unprofitable AI startups that allow users to spend hundreds of dollars (or more) of tokens for $20 to $60 a month, meaning that the AI labs’ demand is, much like hyperscalers’ compute demand, dependent on venture capital’s ability to keep funding it. Right now, at least to the outside world, hyperscalers’ AI capex seems premature, when my argument is far simpler: it’s been a catastrophic waste, as there exists no fundamental demand for AI compute at anything approaching the scale of data center capex or construction, and what demand does exist is an illusion created by speculative investments.  In fact, I’d argue that the last year and a half’s worth of AI capex is fundamentally speculative, because there has never been any proof — even with Anthropic and OpenAI’s compute spend — that spending a trillion or more dollars on GPUs and data centers would ever pay off. And now the rest of the world has caught up to what I’ve been saying since October 2025 — that hyperscalers need at least $2 trillion in annual AI revenue by 2030 or they’ve wasted their capex . Too little too late. I’ll admit it’s vindicating to see so many people suddenly jump on the “how much money do hyperscalers need to justify their capex?” train, even if not a single one of them bothers to give me credit. Per Callum Williams of The Economist , Google, Amazon, Meta, Microsoft, Oracle, and SpaceX will need somewhere in the region of $1.29 trillion in annual AI revenue to get a 10% return on invested capital for their capex through the end of 2027, with the amount rising to $2.87 trillion if this farce continues through 2030. To put that in perspective, Microsoft had around $34.4 billion in AI revenue in fiscal year 2026 , of which 70% was OpenAI’s compute spend. Per Barclays estimates , Amazon will have $31.6 billion in total AI revenue in 2026, 73% of which will come from OpenAI and Anthropic, and per UBS estimates , 54.3% of Google’s AI compute sales come from them too, with an undefined amount of Vertex AI model sales coming from Anthropic on top, for a total of around $65 billion in AI revenue, which sounds a little high. Adding all those together gets us to around $131 billion in AI revenues for Google, Microsoft and Amazon , of which $82.2 billion (62.7%) are from Anthropic and OpenAI.  As of its latest quarter, SpaceX had (when you strip out Twitter’s ad revenues) around $2.194 billion in AI revenue, or $8.7 billion on an annualized basis, but I’ll bump that up to $25 billion on the year to include its full $1.25 billion a month from Anthropic and $920 million a month from Google , though I’ll add that both have 90 day outs. If we assume that Anthropic’s discounted compute for that quarter meant that it accounted for only $500 million of SpaceX’s AI revenue, this puts us at approximately $32.8 billion in AI revenue for SpaceX , with (as I believe Google will rent the compute directly to Anthropic) 79.3% of that coming from Anthropic. While we don’t know Oracle’s actual AI revenues, it disclosed in its last quarter that its CPU and GPU revenues were at $6.5 billion for the quarter, or around $26 billion a year in revenue. Because I’m feeling nice, I’m going to say that Oracle has approximately $20 billion in annual AI revenue, but due to a lack of information it’s tough to say how much of that is OpenAI, though I’d imagine we’re looking at at least $8 billion or more given the progress of Stargate Abilene and the (as confirmed with sources) H100 and H200 GPUs currently rented to the AI lab. As a result, I think it’s fair to say at least 50% of Oracle’s AI revenues are from OpenAI. This puts us at $183 billion in annual AI revenue for Google, Microsoft, Amazon, Oracle and SpaceX, with $118.2 billion, or at least 64.3%, coming from Anthropic and OpenAI. And as you’re about to find out, $183 billion just ain’t gonna cut it. Last week, Goldman Sachs’ Ryan Hammond got a little more specific, noting that hyperscaler capex estimates were now over $1.1 trillion in 2027. These revised capex plans also came with a new and deeply-worrying analysis, taking the average of estimated AI capex for 2026 and 2027, and calculating how much annual AI revenue hyperscalers would need to break even on their capital expenditures for just those two years . To just break even, hyperscalers need $308 billion in annual AI-specific revenues, and for a 10% Return On Invested Capital (calculated based on estimates of depreciation and operating expenses), they’d need $417 billion.  As discussed above, they are — including Anthropic and OpenAI — currently $124.2 billion short of break-even, or $243 billion short of break-even without their revenues, or $233.2 billion to $351 billion short for a measly 10% ROIC.  Now, keep in mind that A) the 2027 capex has yet to be spent and B) that, at least in theory, Anthropic and OpenAI will spend more next year… if hyperscalers are able to build the capacity necessary for them to do so, and they’re able to raise the money to pay them.  Goldman aggressively clears it throat by adding that “revenues are growing quickly and revenue backlogs are sizable”, but that’s far from a foregone conclusion considering (as I’ve mentioned) the fact that hyperscalers appear to be warehousing hundreds of billions of dollars of GPUs, with Microsoft sitting at around 2GW of AI capacity , and Oracle’s delays to its “Project Jupiter” data center in New Mexico becoming so severe that it had to issue a “force majeure” notice with the project developer , though as the Financial Times notes, it’ll have to pay regardless of whether the data center actually has power, otherwise known as a “Hell or High Water” contract.  Yet the part that really worries me is about the so-called “application layer” — the companies paying the hyperscalers for AI compute — and how much revenue they’d need in totality to be able to justify that hyperscaler capex. The answers are extremely grim. For hyperscalers to break even on their capex through 2027, their AI customers would have to make around $425 billion in annual revenue, and that’s if they had an operating margin of 10%, a number that includes training costs for OpenAI and Anthropic. To be explicit, this chart measures how much revenue AI companies would need to have specific operating margins and for hyperscalers to have a specific ROIC. In other words, AI companies would have to make $725 billion in annual revenue to have both 10% margins and for hyperscalers to have a 10% ROIC. For some context about how far we are from these numbers: Even if Anthropic and OpenAI doubled their revenues and every single one of these “annualized” figures represented the true annual revenue of the companies, we’d be sitting at an embarrassing $157 billion, or roughly $268 billion short.  The further we get, the more ludicrous the expectations become, with Bain claiming that AI services (across both the consumer and enterprise realms) would need to generate $6tn in annual revenue by 2031 to justify the current and near-future levels of expenditure.  It’s remarkable, four years and hundreds of billions of venture capital dollars into the AI bubble, that we basically have zero meaningful revenue-generating AI companies outside of Anthropic and OpenAI. We aren’t even in the same universe of scale that would be necessary to justify the capital expenditures made by hyperscalers. I don’t even know how to put into words how far away we are, because it’s all so unfathomably stupid. Goldman’s response is laughable:  That link goes to a year-old report saying that “ The AI Spending Boom Is Not Too Big ” that does not, at any point, describe AI US labor productivity gains, other than this paragraph:  Those AI productivity estimates come from an analyst note from March 2023 , around two weeks after GPT-4 came out. In other words, Goldman’s way of reassuring boosters and investors is to vaguely cite numbers from three and a half years ago, numbers that it has, for whatever reason, chosen not to update.  To quote Peter B. Parker from Spiderman: Into The Spider-verse, “ don’t watch the mouth, watch the hands .” There’s a reason that Goldman hasn’t sought to measure the actual productivity or economic benefits of AI for three-and-a-half years, I assume because doing so would make it blatantly obvious how large the gulf is between the massive investments in AI GPUs and data centers and, well, this chart : Alternatively, they’re avoiding saying what Timmer said: that investments in AI are dead money. And things are only going to get worse from here. Per Morgan Stanley , AI-related debt issuance should be around $570 billion in 2026, with around $250 billion of that coming from hyperscalers, and the rest various different forms of high-yield debt shoved into either asset-backed securities or dodgy SPVs for AI data centers. Things are only set to increase next year. Per Goldman Sachs , hyperscalers will fund more than a third of their AI investments with debt in 2027 — around $400 billion — with Jeff Pu of GF Securities putting the number a little higher at $419 billion, against estimated capital expenditures of around $1.14 trillion, specifically referring to Meta, Google, Amazon, Microsoft, and Oracle.  If we assume that other AI-related debt stays flat on the year, that puts us at $739 billion in AI data center debt in 2027, and if we assume growth matches hyperscaler debt issuance growth (around 67.6%), the number grows to around $939 billion in debt. That’s an astonishing number, and one that’s going to run headfirst into the growing price of US Treasuries, which I covered a few weeks ago in part one of the Hater’s Guide To AI Debt: To be clear, I published that article on September 18 . As of writing this sentence, 10-year-dated US Treasuries are now sitting at around 5.24%.  The combined force of the wars in Iran and Ukraine, inflation, and spiralling government debt have pushed interest rates up aggressively over the last few months, in a way that is set to add billions of dollars in interest payments to an already-staggering debt load across the tech and AI industry.  Let me give you a few examples. A few months later in November 2025, Oracle would issue $18 billion in bonds , with maturities ranging from 4.45% on the five-year-dated notes to 6.1% on the forty-year-dated. Back then, Oracle was the belle of the ball, with analysts a month previously saying they were “all a bit in shock” by its massive new revenue backlog, most of which came from OpenAI and would require building 7.1GW of data center capacity that, as I’ve established, would take years. In the month preceding, OpenAI had announced a flurry of multi-gigawatt deals, most of which didn’t exist , but the market was extremely excited to fund whatever crap was put in front of it as long as it had “AI” on the side. By December 2025 , the spreads ( explained here ) on Oracle’s debt were trading “like junk,” meaning that investors were buying and selling them at a price that said that if it were to issue more, it would have to be at the high yields associated with the junk bond market.  Since then, Treasury bonds have sold off and interest rates have been hiked with another due by the end of the year . Two months ago, Oracle’s credit rating was downgraded to BBB — one level above junk — by S&P Global , and the debt associated with the SPV behind its New Mexico data center for OpenAI has moved into “distressed” territory , meaning that it’s trading somewhere between 89 cents and 91 cents on the dollar, with the “Force Majeure” notice arriving less than a week later. All of this is to say that Oracle faces a much, much harsher lending climate today than it did back in November.  When we reprice based on today’s Treasury prices and current going rates for Oracle’s debt, things get…a little nasty. Across the board, Oracle’s spreads between US Treasuries have effectively doubled, and its new yields range from a bad-yet-manageable 6.73% and 6.91% on its five and seven-year-dated bonds to astonishingly high 8%+ yield across anything longer than 10 years. On a strictly cash basis, this means that Oracle’s debt would, if issued today, cost it another $6.89 billion in interest. I should also be clear that these numbers are based on a completely flat calculation related to today’s Treasuries and going prices for Oracle’s bonds. As Oracle sits exactly one rung above junk — and its debt trades at junk rates (meaning that the markets buy and sell it as if the yields were junk ( an average of 7.8% ) — it would likely see its debt priced at around 25-50bps more than what we’ve seen here. And if Oracle raises more debt, it runs the risk that two ratings agencies could downgrade it to “junk,” immediately forcing investment funds and indices that cannot hold junk debt to dump it, turning it into a “fallen angel” ( as I covered a few months ago ). Oracle isn’t even the worst of them. Wretched, debt-ridden neocloud CoreWeave issued around $7.75 billion in bonds in 2025 and 2026, and faces a double-whammy of problems — the increasing yield on Treasury bills combined with the overall souring of debt markets toward both its business and the overall idea of AI data center debt.  Last year, CoreWeave was already borrowing at ridiculously-high coupons of over 9%, but if that debt was repriced today, it would be paying at the very best rates between 11% and 13.22% — the kind of numbers you’d associate with a personal loan. As you can see, repricing CoreWeave at today’s rates would increase its costs by 35.8%, adding $1.2 billion to the lifetime cost of the bonds for a company that already pays $640 million a quarter in interest . Make no mistake, CoreWeave needs to raise more debt to build its data centers. Bloomberg consensus estimates have it borrowing more than $33 billion in 2027, at a time when interest rates are likely to stay elevated and jitters around AI data center debt are becoming full-blown convulsions. UBS’ Karl Keirstead estimates that it will need $102 billion in extra financing between 2027 and 2030, but that makes the broad assumption that CoreWeave will still exist in a few years. In any case, CoreWeave and Oracle’s debt exist as a kind of barometer of the data center industry’s debt position — two junk-or-near-junk firms raising endless debt to build out the so-called next industrial revolution at an agonizing price. And if the price of their debt is crashing — and the expected yield on the future debt is skyrocketing as a result — then their problems are everyone’s problems. As I discussed back in July , the sheer scale of AI capital expenditures has inflated the price of every imaginable piece of gear that goes inside a data center, a problem that compounds with every new dollar of capex: I published that newsletter on July 28 2026, back when ten-year-dated US Treasuries were a mere 4.6%, and concerns around Oracle’s data center debt had yet to truly erupt.  And a little under a month later, NVIDIA would bump its prices by more than 15% , partly as a result of memory costs, and partly because it has the entire tech industry by the balls. So, as more AI data center debt gets issued, said debt becomes more expensive, because the larger the amount of debt any one thing takes up, the more competition it faces, and the more risk an investor carries by holding it. Once the debt is issued, it immediately flows into buying GPUs and associated hardware, slowly growing the cost of memory and hardware, all while increasing the competition for the specialist labor and materials needed to build data centers, such as spiking the cost of Copper , increasing the cost of construction by billions in the process. In other words, the more you buy, the more you lose. The more money you raise, the more money you need. The more money you need, the more expensive that money becomes. And once you spend that money, everything you spent it on becomes more expensive, including raising more money in the future.  The other problem is, as I discussed last week , that these things are simply not getting built, either because the power isn’t there or construction is taking longer than expected, which is in turn putting pressure on effectively any data center-related debt, with even the $27 billion in bonds underlying Meta’s Hyperion data center in Louisiana (known as “Beignet Investor LLC”) aggressively selling off over the last two months. As I’ve said , a bond “selling off” means that anyone raising more debt that resembles it will have to pay investors more for the privilege.  And when even the debt associated with the largest companies in the world begins to sell off, that becomes everyone’s problem.  So, let’s talk about the $18 billion in debt behind Oracle’s New Mexico-based Project Jupiter data center, starting with ZeroHedge’s diagram of the structure : Oracle borrowed $18 billion from a syndicate of financial institutions including BNP Paribas, Goldman Sachs, and two Japanese banks — MUFG and SMBC — that have been in effectively every major AI data center deal, including multiple CoreWeave debt facilities, every Stargate/OpenAI/Oracle data center, and even SoftBank’s bridge loan that it used to fund OpenAI’s 2025 funding round . Additionally, funds related to Blue Owl (who is also invested in multiple different Stargate and CoreWeave facilities) kicked in $3 billion in equity to make sure the debt actually got raised. This kind of labyrinthine structure is how basically every off-balance-sheet and SPV-based data center debt deal is capitalized — a few billion dollars of equity investment, usually from one of a few private credit funds (EG: Blue Owl, Blackstone, BlackRock) that then raise debt from many of the same investors, something I covered at length in my Enshittifinancial Crisis piece from the end of last year . I also went into detail about the SPV structures a few months ago here . The reason I bring all of this up is that this kind of SPV is the template for data center debt, and the associated investors are a large chunk of the capital funding it, which means that their ability to continue feeding the beast of AI data center debt is what’s holding up this industry.  And now one of their largest data center debt deals, as mentioned, has entered “distressed” status , which means that any further SPVs they’re involved in will price based on the current state of Project Jupiter, which will be priced both based on the project’s health and the current state of Oracle , which is being dragged down by the questionable health of its many, many data center debt deals, all of which are contingent on OpenAI’s ability to pay it $300 billion over five years . This means that the price of any debt associated with AI data centers is now skyrocketing, at a time when the price of the goods that debt is buying are skyrocketing, at a time when the underlying construction needed to pay back that debt is taking forever. This is the Doom Loop: the more data center debt that gets raised, the more expensive both the data centers and the debt become, and the only way of fixing the problem is to stop financing new data center debt , except once that happens, everybody will ask whether the data center buildout has stalled, which will in turn create pressure on all of the debt that’s already been issued. In simple terms, it’s going to be difficult to impossible to raise AI data center debt below 8%, with even the $2.27 billion in bonds issued to CleanSpark for a Meta-connected data center in Georgia pricing at 8.25% on September 18.  As I went into in last week’s premium (and per my Bastard data center model ), a 100MW data center costs around $4 billion to $5 billion, with gross margins of 28% at $17.7 million a megawatt…with negative gross margins below $12.10 a megawatt. But only if you have a customer the entire time, and you don’t have any debt.  Those customers are, for the most part, either OpenAI, Anthropic, or a company like Microsoft or Amazon renting out compute to resell to them. Otherwise, they’re unprofitable AI startups like Cognition, which expects to burn $800 million in 2026 , with (per The Information) “hundreds of millions” of dollars of those costs coming from renting NVIDIA GPUs. This means that the underlying customer base for effectively every AI data center is either a hyperscaler or somebody that can, by definition, not actually afford to pay for their compute without somebody else giving them the money, with “somebody” often meaning “a hyperscaler.” AI data centers are some of the most-expensive and ambitious infrastructure projects in the history of mankind, funded with some of the most-expensive debt ever raised, with said debt only payable in the event that the project A) gets completed and B) has customers that can pay once that happens. Said customers are brittle, unprofitable and unsustainable, with the very real risk that they simply won’t exist by the time construction is complete. Even if everything goes to plan, the incredible cost of AI data centers means that they’ll take anywhere from three to five years to pay off, and that’s being extremely generous about the terms of the debt and the willingness of the customer to pay top dollar. One counter-argument to my skepticism has been that the per-hour price of GPU compute has gone up based on SiliconData’s various indices , but I have serious questions about the validity of this data, as I believe it measures spot rates — as in the amount you’d pay to rent right now versus on a longer-term basis — which creates an illusion of success that doesn’t connect to reality.  For example, SiliconData has NVIDIA’s B200 GPU pricing at around $5.78 an hour , but a contract I found between neocloud Kidz AI ( which rents capacity from a company called Limestone , or, more-specifically, its subsidiary Catalyst Compute) and AI inference company Canopy Wave priced 256 B300 GPUs at $4.30 an hour (per GPU) for the first three years and $3.50 an hour for the last two of the five-year-long contract for a more-advanced chip than the B200. Another contract I found between Australian neocloud Sharon AI signed a deal with a dodgy-sounding company in Dubai priced 8208 B300 GPUs at $3.30 an hour for five years. To be explicit, the B300 is NVIDIA’s latest-generation GPU, and its long-term rental prices are less than half of SiliconData’s hyperscale pricing for the years-old H100 .  If we assume that an 8-pod of B300 GPUs retails around $550,000, and the capex is a comparable amount, that puts the cost of the data center that Sharon AI is renting out at somewhere in the region of $1.1 billion, for a contract that will, over the course of five years , pay a total of $1.264 billion, assuming that the client in question pays.  In the case of Catalyst Compute, the 32 8-pods of B300s cost roughly $17.6 million, for a rough total of $35 million for the full capex. Over the course of five years, the contract will pay around $44.6 million, and I should note that the customer (Canopy Wave) only moved into reselling inference compute as of November 2025 .  In both of these cases, capital expenditures are barely paid off in five years, and only if you don’t include a single dollar of operating expenses or associated debt.  And that’s if everything goes to plan, and the customers actually pay. Even then, at the end of the five year period, we’ll theoretically have multiple new generations of NVIDIA GPUs (Vera Rubin and Feynman), which will further suppress the ongoing rates that your data center earns, all as ongoing opex (and debt) stays at the same level, assuming, of course, you were paid consistently throughout. Let’s review: AI data centers — and their associated costs and debt — are priced for a level of perfection that no other industry has ever rivaled. Their customers must be well-capitalized, prompt in their payments, and have revenues that allow them to spend tens or hundreds of millions of dollars a year on operating expenses on an ongoing basis, something that only really matters if the underlying construction happens. For whatever reason, everything I read about AI data centers considers it a foregone conclusion that everything will go to plan, and in fact that each data center will generate tens of billions of dollars a gigawatt in revenue, with no real thoughts or feelings about where those billions might come from or whether anyone will be able to afford them.   Everybody is either egregiously ignorant or hopelessly optimistic in a way that will make this situation so much worse when it collapses. I do not think the majority of these AI data center debt deals ever get paid. I do not think CoreWeave makes good on its debts.  Shit, I don’t think Oracle makes good on its debts. I estimate that since 2023, there’s been around $800 billion in global venture capital investment in AI companies, with at least $266 billion of that going to Anthropic and OpenAI. Of those investments, I expect at least $300 billion of that equity to be dead money, because, for the most part, AI companies are wrappers or layers built on top of Anthropic and OpenAI’s models, holding very little IP of their own and being burdened with ever-growing opex that mostly flows to the two AI labs that constantly want to compete with their customers. These businesses are fundamentally built on reselling tokens from the large AI labs at a loss, which is why companies like Harvey and Perplexity have to raise hundreds of millions of dollars every few months. These startups’ continued existence is entirely a function of venture capital, as all of them are deeply unprofitable. This means that before the bubble bursts, these companies will continue to sap the venture capital world of billions more dollars, all with little chance of an acquisition and a near-zero chance of an IPO considering their ugly economics. These economics are also load-bearing for OpenAI and Anthropic, representing around 80% of their revenues , meaning that once they die, the AI labs’ underlying revenues begin to decay. This also means that these AI startups are, in general, not actually renting AI GPUs, choosing instead to rent them by proxy by using Anthropic and OpenAI’s models. Though some of them talk a big game about building or training their own models , doing so is enormously expensive with little chance of a payoff, especially given the massive advantage in compute, capital and talent held by the labs.  There really is no clean “out” for any AI startup not named Anthropic or OpenAI. Cognition, valued at $48 billion in its latest funding round , is allegedly worth nearly as much as Ford ($59 billion market cap), yet generates a mere $1 billion in ‘annualized run rate,’ which could mean anything, all while losing $800 million. Ford, by comparison, had $187.2 billion in revenue in 2025, with a net loss of $8 billion attributable in part to a massive writedown of its electric vehicle portfolio ( $12.5 billion in Q4 2025 alone ). In 2025, Ford sold around 2.2 million vehicles. Cognition, by comparison, makes yet another AI coding agent. What, exactly, does Cognition do from here? Who buys Cognition? Does it go public? How? It loses tons of money and has a commoditized product!  Nobody wants to answer these questions, because the answer is pretty simple: one day, Cognition, like many AI startups, simply runs out of money and dies, or becomes a much, much smaller company. The same goes for Harvey, Perplexity, Replit, and basically every other major AI startup, though I’d argue they’re all hoping to get swept up by a hyperscaler. As I discussed at the end of last year , AI startups are a devil’s deal for all venture capital. Because they’re so capital-intensive, there’re tons of opportunities to invest, and every time you do so, the underlying valuation (and assets under management of the VC fund) skyrockets, making everything look good on paper. The problem is that these valuations are entirely disconnected from reality to the point that, for the most part, all of these companies either go to zero or are picked up in nebulous “acquihires” for embarrassing fractions of their previous prices.  Without these companies, Anthropic and OpenAI lose somewhere in the region of 60% to 80% of their enterprise revenues, which makes them even less likely to be able to pay for all their $1.3 trillion in compute commitments. And outside of those two companies, I estimate there’s roughly $22 billion of demand for AI compute . Every single day — even on the weekends — someone asks me either how or when all of this breaks, and my answer is simple: when the money runs out. Eventually, AI data center debt is going to become untenable for those raising it, because 11%+ rates on already-meager margins makes the maths a little impossible. Once this happens, there will be a fundamental reevaluation of the value of all AI data center debt, which may lead to a sell-off of the underlying bonds and associated debt, which will make any investor deeply entrenched in the GPU credit business extremely nervous and, in some cases, unable to exit their positions in anything short of an embarrassing fashion. This isn’t likely to happen due to moral or ethical reasons, but as a result of creditors realizing that they’ve got way too much risk tied up in projects that regularly make the news for not getting built. At some point these projects become too risky for even the most mold-poisoned private credit fund or brainless Japanese bank to stomach, and the timeline will accelerate based on either Treasury rates or further data center developments facing cashflow or construction problems. On the venture capital side, it’s unclear how much dry powder actually remains, how much of it could be deployed into AI startups, and whether it’ll be a case of ‘running out of money’ so much as a moment where everybody gets spooked about AI and stops investing entirely. This would be accelerated by any cashflow issues across any major AI startups, any downrounds (IE: raising at a lower valuation), or failed acquisitions, such as when Anthropic walked away from buying Decart for $6 billion earlier in September . And really, the biggest sign is the most obvious one — the deceleration of Anthropic and OpenAI. If they aren’t going to pay those $1.3 trillion in compute bills, the jig is up for AI data center demand. The signs are already there that something is up. Per Irrational Analysis , Anthropic’s record-breaking “$65 billion in annualized revenue run rate” from July 2026 may have been calculated in the single-most-deceptive way I’ve ever heard a startup do so: That’s right folks. If Irrational Analysis is right, Anthropic’s revenue on July 31, 2026 was $178 million, and because the other calculation — 28 days times 13 — created a lower number, the company chose to go with something that should, at a minimum, have investors hiring lawyers and demanding real, tangible answers about how run rate is calculated. Every single reporter with any Anthropic source that can speak to run rates should be screaming at them for clarity, because this is some sub-Enron bullshit. Even if you don’t trust that analysis, another from TickerTrends surfaced by Callum Williams of The Economist shows Anthropic’s annualized run rate plateauing since, it seems, the beginning of June, and as Williams said, if this is even broadly correct, it’s really, really bad. Williams also another TickerTrends chart showing OpenAI’s revenue growth had continued to climb…but was showing the initial signs of a slowdown. Neither of these companies can afford to slow down, in part because of their massive compute obligations, and in part because their massive valuations are based on them being able to pull in, at least in Anthropic’s case , between $190 billion and $200 billion in annual revenue within the next two years.  If they fail to do so, everybody suffers. Hyperscalers miss revenue estimates. AI data center debt goes unpaid. Venture capitalists find their holdings washed out.  When that happens, everybody will act as if it was a huge surprise, rather than something that was blatantly obvious to anybody who bothered to look. That was originally where this newsletter ended, but the night before this was due to go out, parts of Anthropic’s S-1 leaked to Reuters , showing the shocking financial condition of the company as of the end of last year. In 2025, Anthropic lost over $8 billion on $4.6 billion in revenue. 25% of its 2025 revenue came from two customers, and its compute costs were $7.33 billion for the year. It technically had a net loss of $42 billion, but that was stock-related and was not a cash loss.  Reuters did not report on Anthropic’s 2026 numbers, and while in theory its economics could have improved in the last three quarters, there are reasons to believe that things have gotten worse, such as the fact that it has resorted to using adjusted margins as a means of faking a “profit” in Q3 2026 . In any case, I find it strange that Reuters reported on only a section of the S-1, and if it turns out anything was held in reserve for some reason I will be deeply disappointed. I will be fair and assume it was a limited slice of the prospectus, and that Reuters will diligently report anything it finds, and it is an incredible exclusive. So, let’s talk about how terrible of a company Anthropic was in 2025.  It spent $12.65 billion in operating expenses to make $4.6 billion of revenue, otherwise known as spending $2.75 to make a dollar.  This, shockingly, means that Anthropic was a worse business than OpenAI in 2025, when it spent $34 billion to make $13.07 billion ( per my own exclusive reporting of its audited financials ), or $2.60 to make $1. While things could change in 2026, it’s important to note how many people said that Anthropic was “a better business” that would “be profitable faster than OpenAI,” which is, until we are able to see both of their audited 2026 financials, somewhere between a myth and an outright lie. So many people told me that Anthropic was more-profitable! So many people assured me that this company had worked it all out , when in fact Dario Amodei’s horrid son was just as obese as Altman’s, a rotten, unprofitable carcass. Boosters are already boiling their copium kegs, angrily oinking that 2026 “will be better” and that “Anthropic has been more profitable.” At this point I have less than zero interest in anything that hasn’t gone through an auditor, because it’s very clear that, through either misinforming investors or the media, Anthropic has intentionally obfuscated the full horrors of its economics.  Perhaps 2026 will be better! But right now, the evidence is that Anthropic’s economics have decayed for the last two years, and its business was, at least in 2025, somehow more toxic than OpenAI’s, regardless of what you may have read in the press. If things have improved, it will have required a fundamental turnaround of a business in a way that does not appear to have happened in any way for OpenAI, despite both companies being in the same business and selling the very same thing. The only difference I can imagine is that Anthropic’s infrastructure is more TPU and Trainium/Inferentia-heavy, but we’ll eventually find out, I guess. If you have the full S-1, I implore you — bring it to me. My signal is ezitron.76. I will protect your identity. I will do this document justice. It’s time we had complete clarity into what this business truly looks like. We should not be made to wait for November, we should see it now, so that investors (and any economic counterparty) may fully understand the state of Anthropic.  In any case, these numbers are as bad as I’ve always thought they’d be, if not a little worse. I don’t see how this company becomes one that can afford its $518 billion in compute commitments, nor do I see how it magically works its way out of the economic equivalent of septic tank.  This company will, if allowed to go public, likely lean on the very same junk-grade/high-yield debt that AI data centers and neoclouds like CoreWeave currently need, and it will do so at volumes of somewhere between $50 billion and $100 billion a year for a company with few assets, endless losses and a CEO with the grace of a drunk elephant.  Anthropic is not the future of technology, nor is it the next Google, nor is it the next Microsoft, nor is it, to quote Reuters, capable of “[transforming] the global economy more profoundly than industrialization, electricity and the internet.”  Anthropic is a cloud software company with volatile products and economics, sold in a fundamentally insincere and deceptive manner, pushed upon society with threats of death and destruction by aggressive zealots and members of the media bereft of shame. Its culture is fundamentally unhealthy, as is the culture of the fandom it has curated over the last few years. Dario Amodei is a manipulative and deceptive person influenced by a cadre of cultists , and Anthropic CFO Krishna Rao should feel ashamed of himself for allowing a single run-rate story to go out. It is impossible to rationally argue that the economics of OpenAI and Anthropic make any real sense. To claim that this is “just like Uber” or “just like Amazon Web Services” or “just like the Dot Com Bubble” is to bury one’s head in the sand or, on some level, want to know less about the world. This is serious, dangerous, and should not be seen as “business as usual.” We must treat OpenAI and Anthropic as what they are: economic disasters waiting to happen.  To do anything less is to directly invite danger to the door of every investor that’s allowed to believe that they’re funding the next industrial revolution. If you liked this piece, you should subscribe to my premium newsletter. It’s $70 a year , $18 a quarter , or $7 a month , and in return you get a weekly newsletter that’s usually anywhere from 10,000 to 18,000 words and provides vast, detailed analyses of the biggest events and companies in the AI bubble. If you want to get in touch — and especially if you have any juicy information about Anthropic, OpenAI, or any other companies in the AI bubble — hit me up on Signal at ezitron.76. I’m also on IB on The Terminal. OpenAI estimates it will have $36 billion in revenue in 2026 . Through the first half of 2026, Anthropic had around $16.3 billion in revenue, and if we assume that it’s growing faster than OpenAI, that puts its annual revenue around $40 billion for 2026. Cursor allegedly hit $4 billion in annualized revenue ahead of its acquisition by SpaceX , but that most decidedly does not mean $4 billion in revenue.  Perplexity is allegedly sitting at around $750 million in annualized revenue , but was at $250 million at the start of the year, making its annual revenues likely somewhere in the $350 million range.  Cognition recently hit $1 billion in annualized revenue ($83 million a month) as of September 25, 2026, but never defined what that meant. Considering that The Information had it at around $900 million a month beforehand , I think it’s likely that its revenues sit at around $300 million to $400 million. The Information also notes that Cognition expects to burn $800 million this year. Per The Information , OpenAI and Anthropic represent 89% of all AI startup revenues. AI data centers are extremely expensive. AI data center debt is now extremely expensive. AI data centers take years to build. AI data center customers are brittle, unprofitable and dependent on near-perpetual funding. For there to be any real chance of a payoff, the average customer — you know, the brittle, unprofitable one I just mentioned — will need to survive until the data center is built, and then be able to afford ongoing fixed annual costs, all while competing with multiple other data centers with identical chips.

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Premium: The Hater's Guide To AI Debt (Part 2)

The year is 2026, and you are a hyperscaler CEO. You zip up your Patagonia Vest, type UDPATE CALENDER WHERE WHY to your Muse agent, and it tells you that your CFO has sent you an email about something called a “critical finance meeting,” and you roll your eyes.  You were up until 2AM talking to your 38 GPT-6 agents that were vibe coding a dashboard of “company efficiency wins,” and if anything it’s kind of rude that your CFO is interrupting your “mindfulness hour” where you listen to Andrew Hubermann and do something called an “elevated ab crunch” that hurts your neck every time, somehow. Behind you, your horribly-trained Shiba Inu (called “Basis Points”) angrily humps your Eames chair, and when you tell it to stop it only seems to hump it harder. Your CFO, who has been waiting for 15 minutes, appears on the video with a grim look in their eyes. “What is this? What is the need for this interruption?” you snap. “You’re ruining my mindfulness! Have you any idea how important my mindfulness is? It’s so early in the day, and I’ve barely had any mindfulness!”  Your CFO stops themselves from saying that it’s 12:15PM, and decides to cut to the chase. “Hey, so, remember our conversation last week ?”  You begin to shake uncontrollably. “... no. I. don’t. How d-”   Your CFO interrupts, and seems more stern than usual. “Listen. You wanted us to buy a bunch of GPUs, and we bought a bunch of GPUs. That’s fine. But we’ve had to raise tons of debt to do so, and it turns out that the debt that we’ve raised isn’t enough to build all of them, and they’re taking years more than we expect to -” You begin shaking again. “ You…you made a mistake. You messed up. This is on you.” Basis Points is now staring at the wall and growling at it for some reason. The CFO frowns. “No, these are entirely separate externalities — the war in Iran, the Fed hiking interest rates, the concerns around AI data center debt, the whole supply chain is screwed, everything’s getting more expensive, and we have a bunch of debt-”  You roll your eyes. “Just make it go viral, I don’t know what to tell you,” you say as you hang up. With your mindfulness hour ruined, your week is effectively washed, so you decide to book a trip to Hawaii to recover.  After all, all that boring shit is someone else’s problem! … except it really, really isn’t. In last week’s newsletter (and part one of the Hater’s Guide To AI Debt series), I went into the core issues with the AI bubble’s debt spree, which can be simmered down to a few major points (and these are all helpful links to the specific part of the newsletter for easy reference!): Put another way, the first part of The Hater’s Guide To AI Debt was about the form of debt — how it’s raised, how it functions, and where it might be going — and today’s about the function. The biggest worry I have about the AI bubble right now is that the debt is priced for perfection, yet said debt is being invested in thousands of the most-ambitious, intricate, and fragile infrastructure projects in the world, requiring specialist talent and materials and access to power at a scale unheard of in the history of society.  And in many, many cases, the companies building them don’t even have any experience building AI data centers, securing power, or, in many cases, doing much of anything.  You see, despite the AI bubble being inflated by some of the largest and most powerful companies in the world, the actual AI data center buildout is being handled in a way that borders on the lackadaisical “Move Fast And Break Things” model of Silicon Valley.  While they may have an idea of what they’re building and the money to do so and lots of well-credentialed experts, every data center project is its own unique monster with ever-expanding problems caused by everything from geography to the weather to the mechanical issues you find from condensing the power of an entire city into a space a thousandth of the size full of expensive AI chips that need bespoke cooling. And it’s this gaggle of choices — thousands of chaotic, problematic and ultra-challenging infrastructure projects — that the finance industry has fed somewhere between $100 billion and $150 billion of debt (without including hyperscalers), and plans to feed hundreds of billions of dollars more, all under the assumption that “everything will be alright” and that these are, functionally-speaking, no different from building a regular building. In part two, I’m going to talk about the grisly truth of the AI data center buildout — the doom loop of debt, delays and doubt that will compound the costs of getting these things built, and how the whole thing has become so unfathomably expensive that it makes the economics of building an AI data center — and paying off the underlying debt — near-impossible for the majority of projects. This is The Hater’s Guide To AI Debt Part 2, or Gross Profit Unlikely. That the AI data center buildout needs hundreds of billions of dollars’ worth of debt, and hyperscalers need to have pristine earnings growth in the next two years to avoid it eating any and all profits alive . AI data centers are generally funded by project financing (IE: loans that are repaid using customer lease payments), convertible notes (loans that can become company stock), and bonds. Trillions of dollars’ worth of data center debt is held off-balance-sheet. The more debt it raises, the more expensive the debt becomes, and the more money spent on AI capex, the more expensive that capex becomes . That the entire industry is functionally dependent on Anthropic and OpenAI’s compute spend .

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Where're All The AI Chips?

If you liked this piece, you should subscribe to my premium newsletter, and you can subscribe on the following links: $70 a year , $18 a quarter , or $7 a month . In return you get a weekly premium newsletter including vast, detailed analyses of NVIDIA , Anthropic and OpenAI’s finances , and the AI bubble writ large . It's a great way to support my free work, and you'll get full access to my massive archive of premium analyses of the tech and finance industry. On Friday, I’ll publish the second part of The Hater’s Guide to AI Debt ( here's part 1 ) — where we’ll talk about the spiraling costs associated with standing up compute, why they won’t get better, and how the situation poses an existential risk to counterparties like Oracle. With that in mind, if you haven’t already, check out the first Hater's Guide To Oracle ( or part 2 ), or perhaps my premium piece about how OpenAI Kills Oracle , or even my Hater's Guides To the SaaSpocalypse , Private Credit, and Private Equity.   If you want to get in touch — and especially if you have any juicy information about Anthropic, OpenAI, or any other companies in the AI bubble — hit me up on Signal at ezitron.76. I’m also on IB on your Bloomberg Terminal.  Soundtrack: Flobots - Handlebars A few months ago, I asked where all the data centers were , because I was struggling to find proof that very many were being finished despite all the capex spending, construction, and the skyrocketing cost of RAM .  The answer to that question was, effectively, “nowhere.” The vast majority of Microsoft data center projects I could find had barely gotten started , aside from the massive OpenAI-dedicated “ Fairwater ” data centers that are “open” in the sense that some of the buildings are turned on, with the remainder either being actively built or with construction expected to start at some later point. A couple of months later, The Guardian and I ran an investigation working with a source familiar with Microsoft’s GPU capacity, finding that it had approximately 2.2 million chips. At the time, I was unable to verify whether these were all of its GPUs, or whether OpenAI had its own allocation that wouldn’t appear in the data we obtained, which is why I left out one piece of reporting — that, based on the precise loadout of GPUs in operation, that Microsoft had around 1.993GW of capacity, backed by around $50 billion in GPUs, predominantly made up of NVIDIA H100 and H200 chips, with a decent amount of GB200 and GB300s. Two weeks ago, Bloomberg reported that Microsoft had “about 12 gigawatts of capacity,” but that “...only about 2 gigawatts of the company’s current 12-gigawatt capacity is centered on AI-specific chips.” A quote follows: That’s a really nice way of saying that Microsoft is directly misleading reporters, investors and the general public about its capacity. It has claimed again and again that it has brought gigawatts of capacity online for the best part of a year, all, in my opinion, with the intent of misrepresenting the scale of an AI data center buildout where I believe most of the GPUs, to quote Satya Nadella , are now “sitting in inventory that [they] can’t plug in.” Today’s newsletter is about a cruel truth: that NVIDIA’s revenue growth is almost entirely the result of speculative purchases by hyperscalers and neoclouds that take years to install its GPUs. In other words, I think everybody is completely wrong about data center capacity, and it’s going to be a nightmare to untangle once they work it out.  Everybody wants AI to be just like the Dot-Com Bubble, when I fear that GPUs may end up like the millions of unsold copies of Atari’s ET found buried in New Mexico. Per my own article : In earnings calls for its second , third , and fourth quarter fiscal year 2026 earnings, Microsoft would use near-identical phrasing: While I cannot say the exact rationale for making these statements, I can find no way to interpret them other than being an act of deception.  In its Q2 2026 earnings call, Microsoft CFO Amy Hood responded to UBS analyst Karl Keirstead’s question, again repeating the “gigawatt” language [emphasis mine]: Note that Karl’s line of questioning directly addresses Fairwaters Atlanta and Wisconsin, two explicitly AI-focused data centers dedicated to OpenAI, and Hood responds by talking about a gigawatt of capacity in the December quarter ( referring to Q1 FY26, when no mention of adding a gigawatt in a quarter was made ). I already anticipate the response here will be that what Microsoft said here is “legal,” because it never said that this was AI capacity, but anyone responding like this operates with a peasant’s mindset. Anyone reading this transcript or hearing Microsoft mentioning that it added “gigawatts” of data center capacity is thinking about AI data center capacity — as evidenced by this piece and this piece and basically everyone you talk to on the subject.  Let me be very blunt: it appears that Microsoft has, since the beginning of 2022, spent around $265 billion in capital expenditures (and added around $320 billion in assets to its properties, plants and equipment) to bring around $50 billion of GPUs online, and has used broad, vague language to make it seem like it’s been far more productive.  Nobody on God’s green Earth is sitting here wondering if Microsoft added gigawatts of CPU capacity or cloud storage, nor are analysts desperate to hear about aggregate numbers — they’re asking where is all the money you’re spending on AI going , and the answer, it appears, is “into a warehouse” or “into a data center without power.” To bring home the point, I analyzed Microsoft’s earnings calls between Fiscal Year 2010 and Fiscal Year 2022, and found little discussion of data center capacity outside of competition with Amazon Web Services and Google Cloud, and no discussion of megawatts or gigawatts. When it comes to earnings calls, Microsoft’s use of megawatts and gigawatts is explicitly AI-era terminology , used for the first time in its Q4 FY2025 earnings call , though it had used it elsewhere, such as in a document reported on by Business Insider in April 2024 that said it had brought online “more than 500 megawatts of new data center capacity,” including this damning quote, emphasis mine: It appears that Microsoft is being vague with its numbers to hide the very obvious truth: that it’s spending hundreds of billions of dollars to buy GPUs that sit in warehouses or unpowered data centers, likely years in advance. This is a huge scandal. Why is Microsoft buying so many GPUs if it’s not got anywhere to put them? Why isn’t it waiting to buy the GPUs when it needs them, rather than buying them months or years in advance? Why is Microsoft telling us it’s bringing gigawatts of capacity online when it’s very clearly doing otherwise? And at this point, can we take anyone’s capacity announcements seriously? Microsoft is one of the first companies to build a GPU-powered AI data center ( back in 2020, specifically for OpenAI ), and has both incredible amounts of experience standing up compute infrastructure and resources to make it happen.  I need to stress this point, because outside of the hyperscalers, the other companies building large-scale data centers are neoclouds, many of which were former crypto mining companies, or Oracle, which only dipped its toe into cloud infrastructure in 2016, long after Microsoft launched Azure and Google launched Google Cloud.  If anyone has the expertise and resources to deploy large-scale AI infrastructure assets at scale, it’s Microsoft — and, as a result, Microsoft’s effectiveness in deploying AI infrastructure is more meaningful than, say, that of a Neocloud or even Oracle.  As I said above, Microsoft had — as of a few months ago — approximately $50 billion of actual GPUs in service at around an estimated 1.993GW of AI capacity, with Bloomberg reporting on September 11, 2026 that it had “around” 2GW.  It has spent $265 billion in capital expenditures, and per estimates from Michael Turrin of Wells Fargo and Gregg Moskowitz of Mizuho Securities, and Microsoft’s own statements in earnings calls: As mentioned above, Nadella mentioned in November 2025 that he had “...a bunch of chips sitting in inventory that [he couldn’t plug in],” but didn’t make any mention of how many there were.  In other words, Microsoft is warehousing anywhere from $50 billion to $100 billion in GPUs, and has barely gotten $50 billion worth installed in the last four years.   If Microsoft is struggling, everybody’s struggling, and we may have a very inconvenient truth: that NVIDIA has potentially sold hundreds of billions of GPUs years in advance. And yes, everybody is struggling.  Microsoft, as a deeply unhelpful and deceptive company, does not disclose its “construction in progress” on its balance sheet — the place where companies put everything that they’re building, and in the era of AI, their unbuilt data centers and yet-to-be-installed GPUs (or, in Google’s case, its custom TPU AI chips).   Across hyperscalers including Google, Meta, Oracle, Amazon, SpaceX, and Tesla, neoclouds like CoreWeave and IREN, and colocation companies like Core Scientific and Applied Digital, there is over $374 billion in construction in progress, a figure that’s likely lower than the true number, because Amazon’s contribution ($71.7 billion) is only current as of the end of 2025.  The $374 billion number doesn’t include any CIP from Microsoft, Firmus, Sharon AI, Equinix, Nebius, or any number of private operators like Vantage, DataBank, CyrusOne, or QTS. It does not include any sovereign AI projects ( Humain/Saudi Aramco , Singapore , Reliance in India , G42 in the UAE), private projects run by or for OpenAI or Anthropic, Stack Infrastructure ( which is building Oracle’s New Mexico data center , with the CIP not landing on Oracle’s balance sheet as it doesn’t “own” the project), or Meta’s $27.3 billion off-balance-sheet “Hyperion” data center . Between them, I think there’s at least another $50 billion to $100 billion of CIP, but for fairness I’m not including it in the larger total. This number has increased across the dataset from $102.9 billion in 2023, to $145.6 billion in 2024, to $243.2 billion in 2025.  Between 2023 and 2025, the combined capital expenditures of these companies was $351.6 billion on $243.2 billion of CIP. In other words, lots of money out the door with a bunch of stuff in a big, confusing and potentially-unproductive pile. If I’m honest, I think that $200 billion number might be a little generous.  Considering Oracle’s CIP number from its latest quarterly earnings was at $48.5 billion and Google’s Q2 2026 “assets not yet in service” were at an astonishing $122.8 billion , up from $108.5 billion in Q1 2026 and $78.5 billion at the end of 2025 , it’s reasonable to believe that Microsoft has at least $50 billion of construction in progress. I also think it’s fair to assume that Amazon has, since the beginning of 2026, added at least $25 billion to CIP, though we’ll find out at the end of the year. As far as the breakdown of assets goes, I think it’s fair to assume the 50/50 split is accurate. In Google’s latest earnings call , CFO Anat Ashkenazi said that “...60% of our investment in technical infrastructure this quarter was in servers,” referring to servers with GPUs or TPUs. Wells Fargo’s Ken Gawrelski estimated in a note from January 2026 that approximately 65% of Meta’s capex was tied to “shorter-life servers and networking equipment assets.” Per Karl Keirstead of UBS in a note in January 2026, “...the vast majority of Oracle’s capex is for equipment, mostly Nvidia GPUs,” adding that “...by comparison, we estimate average annual capex over the next 5 years for Microsoft with perhaps 60% or around $125 billion for short-lived equipment/chips.”  Yet arguably the most revealing thing I could find was a quote from CEO Andy Jassy on Amazon’s Q1 2026 earnings call from April : So, if we assume the number is roughly $374 billion, plus (at minimum) $50 billion from Microsoft, plus another (at minimum) $20 billion from Amazon, that puts us around $444 billion, with Google’s share — $120.8 billion — being 60% GPUs and related hardware, for a total of $72.48 billion, putting us at (assuming a 50/50 split) an estimated $234 billion in GPUs and TPUs sitting in warehouses.  Since the beginning of calendar year 2023, NVIDIA has sold roughly $496.4 billion in GPUs and associated gear, and Broadcom approximately $65.1 billion in AI chips (though I’ll add that Broadcom only started disclosing its AI segment as of its March 2024 earnings ) for a total of $561.5 billion.  Based on discussions with sources familiar with Azure infrastructure, Microsoft has a great deal of H100 and H200 inventory up and running — mostly consisting of hundreds of thousands of Hopper chips, as well as  somewhere in the region of 160,000 Blackwell GPUs at the time of discussion.  Based on a further analysis of NVIDIA’s earnings calls in the period along with estimates from Vijay Rakesh of Mizuho and Ross Seymore of Deutsche Bank, I roughly estimate NVIDIA has sold approximately $222.6 billion in Hopper and $270.9 billion in Blackwell GPUs. I think it’s reasonable to believe that the majority — if not the entirety — of Hopper GPUs are installed, leaving us with millions of Blackwell GPUs waiting to be installed. This is, to be clear, an assertion I made in November 2025 , when I took Jensen Huang’s statement that NVIDIA shipped “6 million” NVIDIA GPUs literally, versus using the whacky Jensen Maths that “each GPU is actually two GPUs,” bringing the total down to three. Nevertheless, based on everything I’ve discussed today, it’s very reasonable to ask whether even a quarter of those Blackwell GPUs are actually in data centers, or at least data centers with power connected to them.  And if the truth — and this very much seems to be the case — is that NVIDIA has sold hundreds of billions of dollars of GPUs years in advance, that materially changes everything about the AI bubble and the AI data center buildout. I have, on occasion, cited Sightline Climate’s February estimates , which I’ll now quote in their entirety:  I love Sightline Climate, and believe they do important and helpful work, but based on Microsoft’s obfuscation of what “capacity” actually means, I believe that virtually all estimates around operational AI data center capacity are now functionally useless. While we can use Sightline’s data as a measure of how much is in planning, I no longer think anyone has a handle on how much capacity is built. The same goes for basically any statements made by companies about or reporting around their potential capacity that do not specifically separate active AI capacity from overall capacity. Microsoft claims, as reported, that it has 12GW of capacity — 3GW of which came online in the last three quarters! — but only 2GW of that is AI data center capacity , which begs two questions: It’s very clear that Microsoft is playing silly buggers with the term “capacity,” which makes me believe this is an industry-wide problem.  For example, CoreWeave claimed in its latest earnings presentation that it added 850MW in “active power” in the last quarter: There is a big difference between whether that’s active, revenue-generating AI data center capacity or 850MW of power at a plant not connected to anything because the data center isn’t built yet, much like it’s very different if it’s only 50MW or 200MW of AI data center capacity.  In Oracle’s case , there were some statements made in its most recent earnings call by co-CEO Clay Magouyrk that are equally-misleading:  Just so we’re clear, here’re the statements made by Mr. Magouyrk: Then there was another quote that had me very confused about Stargate Abilene, a 1.2GW total capacity/824MW IT load (IE: GPUs and essential hardware) data center campus that’s been under construction since June 2024. I’m waiting on an update from a source, but as of June this year, only three buildings were ready to go in Abilene, with a fourth a perennial work-in-progress. I concede that perhaps development has sped up, but per Yes Energy’s analysis , as of June Stargate Abilene was pulling a total power load of around 450MW — and Mr. Magouyrk specifically said “75% of total capacity” and “618MW,” which sounds like it’s referring to IT load.   I don’t even have a clear answer as to what’s going on here, other than that we don’t have much (if any) clarity around how much data center capacity is even being built.  Buried deep within a sustainability report released in July , saying… You’re meant to read that and say “wow, 1.2GW of AI data center capacity,” but that doesn’t, as we’ve established with Microsoft, mean anything of the sort. Data Center Dynamics accidentally explained the problem in their piece on the report : As we’ve established, that “1GW of capacity” does not mean, in any way, shape or form, 1GW of AI data center capacity , or even usable capacity of any kind. In fact, it’s unclear what it is that was added, because none of these companies tell you.  At the end of 2025 , OpenAI claimed it had “1.9GW of compute” — which would suggest that it takes up the vast majority of Microsoft’s infrastructure and some of Oracle’s — but it doesn’t distinguish between whether that’s active power , IT load or even accessible to the company.  As I discussed a few months ago , despite vast amounts of capital expenditures, hyperscaler depreciation — by which I mean when you spread out the cost of GPUs over 6 years starting from when they enter service — also suggests that the vast majority of capex is yet to be put in service. To illustrate, I pulled an historical chart of hyperscaler depreciation and amortization as a percentage of capital expenditures. If capital expenditures were quickly turning into operational, useful and revenue-generating assets, the percentage would be growing versus collapsing quarter-after-quarter, with Google’s sitting at an embarrassing 15.8%, suggesting less than 16 cents of every dollar of capex is flowing into D&A. While this isn’t a cost (as it’s spreading out the cost of something spread over a period of time), it eats into net income. As you’ll see, at several points hyperscalers reclassified the “useful life” of servers, allowing them to spread out the costs of servers containing AI GPUs for a year or two longer, allowing them to lower depreciation costs as a result. For example, in 2022, Microsoft extended the useful lifespan of servers from four to six years — and this year, changed the depreciation schedule of the actual data center structures from 15 to 25 years . The following year, Meta and Google followed suit , with Meta extending the lifespan to five years and Google to six. Meta would again extend the useful life of its servers in 2025 , pushing it to 5.5 years.  Amazon, meanwhile, can’t make up its mind about how long its servers last, having increased (and decreased) multiple times over the course of the past six years. Quoting MoneyWise :  This chart tells us three things: And because they’ve continued to be cloak and dagger about their actual capacity or where their capital expenditures are actually going, it’s anyone’s guess as to when depreciation will spike. But it’ll have to at some point unless they intend to write the GPUs off. This situation is utterly obscene.  It’s very clear that at least $200 billion — if not more than $300 billion — of NVIDIA’s GPU sales have been made a year or years in advance, just as the company telegraphs it will make over $670 billion in revenue in its fiscal year 2028 (starting February 2027).  It’s also clear that Microsoft, Google, Amazon, Meta, SpaceX, and every neocloud are purchasing NVIDIA GPUs tens of billions at a time under the implicit knowledge that it will take years to build the capacity and connect the power to them, creating what amounts to the largest pre-order campaign in the history of capitalism, but also a material misrepresentation of the current AI buildout. Investors — and journalists — have been under the assumption that gigawatts of AI data center capacity have been coming online on a regular basis, with NVIDIA raking in hundreds of billions of dollars for GPUs that are quickly fed into AI infrastructure.  Since the beginning of 2022, Amazon, Google, Microsoft, and Meta have spent over a trillion dollars in capital expenditures, and if Microsoft is indicative of the larger effort — about 18% ($50 billion or so) of capital expenditures turned into revenue-generating IT infrastructure — that would mean only around $222.66 billion of NVIDIA and other AI chips across the four largest hyperscalers are actually operational and functional.  If we assume — kindly — that 50% of the cost of a data center is construction, this would mean around $445.3 billion of data center capacity is operational. This leaves us with around $791 billion of capital expenditures unaccounted for, which is fairly disastrous, and if we assume that 50% of that is GPUs (across NVIDIA, AMD, Trainium, TPUs and any other custom silicon), that’s around $395 billion of silicon that’s been sold and is, I hope, sitting in a warehouse or an unpowered data center, as if they were just sold on paper, that’s…questionably legal accounting. I’m willing to believe that some share of that is also CPU infrastructure, storage, and other dollars not flowing directly to NVIDIA. In any case, that’s a shit ton of undeployed silicon, and a very, very, very different picture to the one that both NVIDIA and the hyperscalers have been telling investors.  There’s a world of difference between “we’re buying a lot of GPUs and building a lot of data centers to make a lot of money” and “we’re investing in this stuff on the off chance it makes us money years in the future.” I’ll break it down: For the most part, hyperscalers have been given credit for their capital expenditures because overall revenues have grown, with everyone saying that their “ AI bets have paid off ,” when it’s clear that the AI bets in question have barely started to come online.  I believe the reason that Google, Amazon, Microsoft, and most notably not Meta have seen remarkable revenue growth in the AI era is that they’re selling effectively all of their available compute to either Anthropic or OpenAI, who make up more than 70% of their AI revenues , and why the only AI data center companies with any revenue growth — CoreWeave, Nebius, IREN, et. al — are connected directly or by proxy to the two AI labs.  Thanks to near-infinite resources — over $217 billion in 2026 alone — given to OpenAI and Anthropic, hyperscalers can effectively saturate any of the GPU infrastructure they bring online, as both AI labs are capitalized and willing to buy basically anything available.  And because capacity is coming on very slowly otherwise , it’s sending out an illusory signal around “insatiable demand” for AI compute, when the actual situation is that barely any compute is coming online, even when it’s built by the largest and best-capitalized companies in the world. I’ll give you an example. Microsoft spent $265 billion in capex since the beginning of 2022, and in its most-recent fiscal year, 70% of its AI revenue — and 7% of its overall revenue — came from OpenAI . If you, as an investor, were to believe that this revenue was a result of all that capex , you were categorically wrong. Most of that capex hasn’t, in fact, been put into action.  Amazon , Google , and Microsoft have said multiple times that they have demand that wildly outstrips capacity, but they’re totally opaque about where that demand comes from, largely because the answer is OpenAI, Anthropic, or in Google and Microsoft’s case Meta. I apologize if I’m overexplaining myself, but I really need to be clear about the problem. If “demand is outstripping supply” because of millions of customers begging for AI compute, that’s very different to “demand outstripping supply” because three customers are taking up most or all of the capacity.  Similarly, if “demand is outstripping supply” because lots of capacity is coming online and a diverse subset of customers is buying it , that’s vastly different to if capacity is coming on slowly, and the vast majority of it is being given straight to OpenAI, Anthropic, or Meta. The $1.3 trillion in compute commitments from Anthropic and OpenAI have created a distortion in the demand for AI compute, in part because of their massive amounts of capital and in part because of their ridiculous demands for compute.  The massive backlogs across Google, Microsoft, Amazon, CoreWeave, IREN, Nebius, and Nscale come not from the incredible demand for AI compute but the incredible ability for Anthropic and OpenAI to sign contracts. For example, Nscale’s $45 billion deal with Anthropic along with a contract with Microsoft make up 85% of its $103 billion backlog , and Anthropic’s deal is contingent on yet-to-be-raised financing . These backlogs are regularly used to justify the massive AI data center buildout, when they’re more a function of Dario Amodei and Sam Altman’s DocuSign accounts. You see, the ultimate problem is that the world outside of hyperscalers is — as a result of the obfuscation of data center capacity — under the belief that these companies are buying GPUs and then quickly turning that into cash versus buying these GPUs and quickly turning them into storage.  This, by the way, is the problem with hyperscalers not explicitly breaking out their AI revenue, because in doing so they create the (I’d argue deliberate) illusion that AI capex is creating revenue growth , which both tricks investors into buying their stock and tricks developers into building AI data centers, believing that capex quickly translates into revenue. You can scoff about how investors or developers should “do better research” or “learn about stuff,” but remember that the vast majority of data points about data center construction are somewhere between misleading and outright fantasy. I’ve seen estimates of 12GW, 15GW, and as much as 20GW of capacity coming online in 2026, but based on everything I’ve talked about today, I think it’s farcical to believe that more than five to ten gigawatts of operational AI data center capacity actually exists. When you have companies like Microsoft and Amazon saying they’re bringing on a gigawatt of capacity — worded in such a way as to make you believe it’s AI data center capacity — every single quarter, what are you meant to believe? That the largest companies in the world would actively mislead you as a means of making their capital expenditures look more effective?  And in turn, are you meant to believe that every single media outlet and research firm that pumps out theoretical gigawatts of yearly capacity coming online is wrong too?  No, you’re probably going to believe the consensus, even when the underlying numbers don’t really make sense, and even when Microsoft’s announced capacity never seems to come online , because if you don’t believe that, you have to accept that everybody got this wrong. So, let me explain a few things before we go any further: You’ll also notice that there are tons of stories about announced AI data centers but very few about completed ones, and those mostly operate as reputation laundering.  For example, CNBC helped both Oracle and Amazon do the same trick, claiming that their data centers were “open” when they were, in fact, opening one or a few of many parts of a data center campus: In Sigalos’ defense, Amazon leading the scam, claiming in a blog released the same day that Project Rainier was “now fully operational,” using weasel wording to refer to Rainier not as the data center but as an AI compute cluster , even though everything about its blog and the CNBC story exists to make you think it refers to the full data center project. All of this is to say that, for the most part, AI data center projects get announced and funded all the time, that the press willingly or otherwise engages in laundering the scale and completion of the projects, and everybody on the outside is deceived into thinking the AI buildout is faster and more effective than it really is. This means that the $290 billion in AI data center debt issued this year (outside of hyperscalers) will go towards building capacity at whatever rate it can, which is a problem because the vast majority of these deals are project financing-based, meaning that they’re funded out of the revenues of a customer who may or may not exist. In all honesty, the best case scenario would be if NVIDIA stopped selling GPUs, or AI data center debt stopped being issued, because every single time a data center is funded and breaks ground, it increases the severity of the overbuild scenario. As I discussed in my premium piece This Is Worse Than The Dot Com Bubble from a few months ago, GPUs are nothing like dark fiber. An incomplete data center will cost just as much to finish in 2030 as it will today, as will the GPUs cost just as much to run. The difference will be that once the AI bubble bursts, the customers of AI compute — predominantly unprofitable, venture-backed startups — won’t exist.  Right now, with more than half of NVIDIA GPUs yet to be turned into operational capacity, every single new data center being built is effectively a bet on whether AI demand is larger in 2028 or 2029 than it is today, because you’re going to be competing with all the other capacity coming online in the years preceding that have already broken ground. Then there’s the problem of the upcoming flood of Blackwell GPUs, the vast majority of which have yet to be operationalized, meaning that anyone who bought them in 2025 is likely going to see them installed just as the first units of Vera Rubin come online, which will suppress prices even without there being significant available capacity, on top of the fact that there’s going to be a huge flood of them coming online in the next few years. Honestly, I think it’s kind of laughable we’re even talking about Vera Rubin at this point. When are we going to see it at scale? 2030? C’mon now.  For years we’ve heard stories about the “incredible demand” for NVIDIA’s GPUs, and to be clear, Jensen Huang’s money is very real, and it is, whether or not they’re going anywhere, actually selling GPUs. There is, however, a massive difference between “we’re selling so many GPUs because people are immediately installing them and making money” and “we’re selling so many GPUs because our largest customers are buying so many of them because their revenues slowed in 2022 and they’ve run out of hypergrowth ideas .” Now, I get it, it’s not really Jensen’s job to tell people why people are buying GPUs , and I fully agree!  That being said , NVIDIA does have a fiduciary responsibility to disclose material events about the products it sells — and, for example, if millions of GPUs are not actually shipping to customers, or are shipping to warehouses, or are otherwise not being sold with the immediate intent of installing them.  I want to be clear about something: there is absolutely no advantage to or reason for buying GPUs months or years in advance outside of the vendor (NVIDIA) playing hardball. Yet it appears that hyperscalers — which make up more than 50% of its revenue — are willing to do so, quarter after quarter, hoarding tens of billions of dollars to “secure supply” that is only constrained because of the hyperscalers themselves. While UBS’ Timothy Arcuri noted in March 2026 that customers were placing orders around 22 months in advance , NVIDIA has sung a very different tune, with Jensen Huang saying that “ tokens are profitable and compute is revenue ” as the vast majority of his sales generate neither tokens nor revenue because the fucking data centers take so long to build.  I need to be more blunt here: the vast majority of companies that have bought GPUs have yet to turn them into meaningful revenue, if they’ve turned them on at all. Most of NVIDIA’s sales are sitting in warehouses, and that is a significant disclosure that NVIDIA should have already been forced to make. It wouldn’t be too dissimilar to the last time NVIDIA got in trouble with the SEC back in 2022 , when it failed to disclose that the revenue growth in its gaming segment was actually coming from cryptocurrency miners rather than gamers, which was considered “inadequate disclosure.” While there’s a noted difference here — as NVIDIA’s customers are, ostensibly, buying their data center GPUs to put in a data center — the “demand” cycle for these chips, or really any AI chip, is entirely manufactured as a result of four or five large customers buying so many and Huang making statements about revenue generation that do not reflect reality.  Perhaps this doesn’t rise to the level of SEC action, but every single journalist and analyst should be asking Jensen Huang and every hyperscaler executive buying GPUs the following questions: To hyperscaler CEOs: I realize that I’m Mr. Bubble and everybody gets mad at me for poo-pooing our big, beautiful AI bubble, but I cannot express how serious this situation has become. Hundreds of billions of dollars of debt has been issued, the price of every imaginable consumer electronic has been inflated , and both most of our stock market and parts of our economy have become dependent on the sales of GPUs , most of which are going to a handful of companies that are, for the most part, not fucking using them. There’s also something profoundly sad about the entire thing.  So much money has been spent building and buying silicon for AI capacity that takes years to build, all as the AI industry tells us that right now there’s insatiable demand and that we’re fools to question it.  One of the core reasons that people believe that AI isn’t a bubble is because of NVIDIA’s perpetual quarterly revenue growth, which is branded, once again, as insatiable demand for AI compute , when it’s actually almost entirely-speculative purchases based on potential revenues, with said potential mostly driven by the compute spend from OpenAI and Anthropic, two unprofitable and unsustainable AI labs .  This is one of the reasons that Jensen Huang continues to funnel endless billions of dollars into circular financing — because the sense of ever-expanding demand for GPUs has become a proxy for ever-expanding demand for AI compute, even though it takes years for the first part to become the second, if it ever does. NVIDIA has now sold at least $200 billion dollars’ worth of GPUs — multiple gigawatts-worth — that have yet to be ingested by the market, and hyperscalers have, through their obfuscation of operational capacity and refusal to disclose AI revenues, helped create one of the largest speculative asset bubbles in history. Everybody who participated in this obfuscation owns part of what comes next.  As I estimated a few months ago , Sightline Climate’s data has us at over 190GW of planned data center capacity, or, at 1.3 PUE and $12 million per megawatt, around $1.62 trillion in annual compute demand needed to saturate it. Right now, I estimate that there’s maybe $22 billion of demand outside of Anthropic and OpenAI .  In other words, I believe we are now in an inevitable overbuild situation, one with no neat, tidy Dot-Com Bubble-style exit story. Demand for NVIDIA GPUs — and those from Broadcom, AMD and other semiconductor companies — is driven by speculative capital believing that the AI industry will become magnitudes larger than it is today, largely driven by the fact that everybody believes there’s far more demand for compute capacity than actually exists. Everybody celebrating Anthropic’s (entirely fictional) plans to have 5GW of capacity by the end of 2026 should know that this company is inspiring one the largest misallocation of capital in the history of capitalism. There is not 5GW of capacity for Anthropic to buy, nor will there be 10GW more for it to buy in 2027, and to suggest otherwise is to further perpetuate myths about how fast compute comes online and Anthropic’s ability to pay for it. NVIDIA has created a remarkable illusion perpetuated by the media — that GPU sales are a direct measurement of the actual demand for AI compute, rather than a measurement of how a few companies are willing to invest in an idea two years in advance, using circular financing as a means of creating the sense that you must buy these GPUs now , or you’ll miss out on the future. Capacity will, eventually, come online at a scale that the market for AI compute cannot support, and it won’t be obvious until it’s way, way too late. I fear that every single model around existing and future data center construction and AI compute demand is wrong, and that every assumption we have about the underlying economics of AI is corrupted by the belief that there’s far more operational capacity than there really is. If we believe there’s gigawatts’ worth of AI compute coming online every year, then we in turn believe there’s gigawatts’ worth of demand.  If there’s a gigawatt or two coming online every year, that’s a completely different story. At the very least, hyperscalers are going to be burdened with brutal depreciation charges or onerous write-offs for years to come, whether their capacity turns into revenue or not. CoreWeave, Nscale, Lambda and every other neocloud is set on the highway to Hell, with ballooning debt that can only be paid via contracts that are dependent on a few AI labs and a company so capricious that it renamed itself after the Metaverse, burned $77 billion, then killed it two years later .  I don’t even know how to write what I’m thinking without sounding alarmist…but I don’t see how 90%+ of NVIDIA’s sales ever end up generating a single dollar of revenue, and considering the amount of project financing-backed data center debt deals, there’s very little that exists to protect investors if AI compute demand never arrives. I don’t know how we don’t see tens of billions of dollars of write-downs and dead data center debt deals with every investor involved losing every penny, nor do I see how big tech avoids admitting that they wasted all their capex. I think everybody who invests in these things ultimately loses, ranging from embarrassment and terrible earnings for hyperscalers to genuine destruction for anyone that trusted the pablum that “all useful compute will be used.” Until that happens, more and more money will be sunk into further theoretical capacity, making the eventual collapse all the more gruesome. And in the end, what was any of this for? What did this achieve? What was the point of stacking up hundreds of billions of dollars of debt to buy hundreds of billions of dollars’ worth of AI chips years in the future?  What do you think happens when the first hyperscaler pulls out? What do you think happens when the debt stops flowing? I’ll give you one answer: everybody will realize that they conflated a great sales pitch with a thriving industry, and both the markets and the economy will suffer as a result. None of this ever had anything to do with AI, and everybody who cheered Jensen Huang’s ascent in the belief it did is a mark. What a fucking waste. I don’t enjoy finding this stuff out. I wish we’d have stopped doing this years ago.  Not that I think we will…but even if they bail out Anthropic, even if they bail out OpenAI, there is no way to magic up the trillions needed to justify the capex, or to prop up hyperscaler growth long term.  The longer this continues, the more promises are made, the more projects that are announced…the worse it’s going to be.  If you liked this piece, you should subscribe to my premium newsletter. It’s $70 a year , $18 a quarter , or $7 a month , and in return you get a weekly newsletter that’s usually anywhere from 10,000 to 18,000 words and provides vast, detailed analyses of the biggest events and companies in the AI bubble. If you want to get in touch — and especially if you have any juicy information about Anthropic, OpenAI, or any other companies in the AI bubble — hit me up on Signal at ezitron.76. I’m also on IB on The Terminal. Satya Nadella, Q2 FY26 (January 28, 2026) earnings call: All up, we added nearly one gigawatt of total capacity this quarter alone.  Satya Nadella, Q3 FY26 (April 29, 2026) earnings call: All up, we added another gigawatt of capacity this quarter, and remain on track to double our overall footprint in just two years. Satya Nadella, Q4 FY26 (July 29, 2026) earnings call: All up, we added another gigawatt of capacity this quarter and remain on track to roughly double our overall capacity in just two years. In Fiscal Year 2025 (July 1, 2024 to June 30, 2025, $64.6 billion total capex) Microsoft’s split between short-lived (read: GPUs and associated gear) and long-lived (IE: physical infrastructure like buildings) assets was 50/50, meaning that approximately $32.3 billion was GPUs and associated gear . In Fiscal Year 2026 (July 1 2025 to June 30 2026, $115.9 billion in total capex), Microsoft’s split was two-thirds (67%) short versus long, or around $74.4 billion in GPUs and associated gear . This leaves us with an estimated $106.7 billion in short-lived, uninstalled GPUs.  I will concede that there may be other short-lived assets, Microsoft’s own language from earnings calls notes they refer to “primarily CPUs and GPUs.” I severely doubt that Microsoft is spending more than a few billion on CPUs. I am preemptively assuming this is where AI bulls will latch onto first, and want to be clear that there really are no other big ticket items that could be taking up this much capex.   Are we talking about power capacity or IT load? If it’s power capacity, this number is functionally useless. Is this actual data center capacity or total power secured ?  If it’s the latter, Microsoft is basically saying “I got power from someone” rather than “I have a data center connected to power that I have either built or commissioned myself.” If it brought online 3GW of capacity in nine months but AI capacity only increased by, at best, a few hundred megawatts, what the hell is in the other data centers? I seriously cannot understand how Microsoft got to 12GW of capacity in totality but only 2GW of AI data center capacity.  Oracle has delivered 850MW of AI capacity containing “more than 300,000 [non-specific] GPUs since the end of Q4 (fiscal year 2026, ending May 31 2026). Delivery in Q1 Fiscal Year 2027 is “73% of the total capacity we delivered last fiscal year,” which could mean 620MW of AI data center capacity, but he said total capacity , which involves non-AI data centers. Hyperscalers are getting increasingly worse at turning their capex into operational capacity. Hyperscalers have massive depreciation charges to look forward to that will eat their profits alive.  Hyperscalers have a spending problem. If investors and the general public believe Microsoft, Google, Amazon and Meta are bringing capacity online rapidly, capital expenditures are justified at their current rate, because it’s seen as spending money to make money. If the truth is that the vast majority of these capital expenditures are going into Jensen Huang’s pocket and filling warehouses full of GPUs , that means that investors are being sold a line of shit about both revenue growth. As it stands, it appears to take years to build an AI data center based on every source I can see. Hundreds of billions of dollars’ worth of GPUs have been sold in advance under the belief that this capacity will be built, energized and leased to somebody. Right now, capacity is coming on very, very slowly, and nobody really wants to talk about it. On September 23, 2025, journalist MacKenzie Sigalos reported that “ OpenAI’s first data center in $500 billion Stargate project is open in Texas, with sites coming in New Mexico and Ohio ,” when in fact one of eight buildings was open, a fact buried six paragraphs into the story. On October 29, 2025, Sigalos reported that “ Amazon [opened its] $11 billion AI data center in rural Indiana as rivals race to break ground ,” claiming, and I quote, that it was “up and operational, while most AI rivals are promising data centers of the future.” In truth, only seven out of thirty buildings were complete, a fact buried 9 paragraphs and a video into the piece. How many Hopper GPUs are currently operational and generating revenue? How many Blackwell GPUs are currently operational and generating revenue? How long is it taking for data centers of over 100MW to be completed, by which I mean fully energized and generating revenue? How many NVIDIA GPUs are currently in storage, awaiting power, or otherwise purchased but not yet in operation? Roughly what percentage of NVIDIA GPUs that were sold in Fiscal Year 2025 and Fiscal Year 2026 are operational and generating revenue? How much AI-specific data center capacity do you have operational? How many GPUs — by make and type — do you have operational, installed and generating revenue in data centers? How many GPUs — by make and type — do you have in storage, awaiting power, or otherwise purchased but not yet in operation?

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Premium: The Hater's Guide To AI Debt (Part 1)

The year is 2026, and you are a hyperscaler CEO. You zip up your Patagonia vest, type UPDATE ME ON CALENDOR TOODAY into ChatGPT, and see that you have a meeting with your CFO. They tell you that while they love all those GPUs you’re buying for those data centers that will absolutely get built and totally agree that you should buy more , your company cannot actually afford to buy them at the current pace.  “But we’re one of the single-largest cash-generating companies in the world!” you scream so hard that your horribly-trained Shiba Inu starts chewing on the side of your Aeron chair. “We’ve been doing AI for years! Where is the money?”  The CFO furrows their brow. “Well, that’s the thing. We’re not actually generating that much cash from it , and actually appear to be losing money. Why do we want to buy more GPUs? We still haven’t installed most of the ones we bought -” You begin to shake uncontrollably. “To. Do. Artificial. Intelligence. What. Is. It. You. Don’t. Understand. Why. More. GPUs. Now.” The Shiba Inu is now tearing into your Eames chair, but you’re too angry to notice.  Your CFO, thankful that there’s a Microsoft Teams window between the two of you, seeks to calm you down, and asks ChatGPT to give them a script to calm you down. “I understand that you didn’t like what I said — and that’s on me. I have a really great solution for you that I think will solve the problem — we’ve got great credit, and we’d be able to raise in all sorts of ways. It’s not just a solution — it’s a strategy.” You stop shaking. Your idiot Chief Financial Officer had a great idea. You ask ChatGPT to vibe code a dashboard of potential options and it crashes your Chrome browser. “I just ran the numbers. You’re right.” Your CFO smiles as they see your Shiba Inu empty its bladder in the background. While I’m editorializing a little, this is the current state of the largest tech companies in the world, with Oracle , Google and Amazon going cashflow negative ( with Meta not far behind ) in pursuit of an indeterminately-large opportunity to sell AI software or rent AI chips (bought from either NVIDIA or Broadcom, see my hater’s guides for more) to either Anthropic and OpenAI or, in Google’s case, Meta .  To reiterate what I’ve been saying for a while, big tech has a few issues with the AI buildout: Hyperscalers have traditionally run relatively-lean operations with operating expenses that didn't necessarily scale with revenues, along with low capital expenditures (IE: long term investments in the business) that meant that even Oracle’s effectively-flat revenues didn’t stop it from printing cash every quarter.  All of that changed thanks to the incredible cost of AI data centers. Capital expenditures are becoming a dramatic share of operating cashflow — as in the total money the company brings in and spend on a quarterly basis — with chart looking relatively-sleepy outside of Amazon’s massive expansion of its logistics network in 2021 and 2022 and Meta’s abominable investments in the Metaverse until the AI bubble began to eat away at every available dollar of cashflow.  Their argument would be that they’re “building the infrastructure of the future,” but that doesn’t appear to have A) shown up in revenues or B) eased up the strain on cashflow. While Google, Oracle, Microsoft, and Amazon have added over a trillion dollars to their revenue backlogs from Anthropic and OpenAI alone , the money they’re adding doesn’t seem to be helping with the burn. Here’s a chart to illustrate the point. An easy way to view the calculation is that this is a percentage of the incoming dollars to the company being eaten up by capital expenditures — and as you can see, that equates to almost every dollar that big tech is making. Meanwhile, as the AI bubble inflated, a new breed of company emerged — the “neocloud,” a company that raises money to buy AI chips and build data centers. These companies are usually either a brand new entity conjured up through the dark magic of Jensen Huang or cryptocurrency miners (who already have access to power, though often not enough) converting their Bitcoin/Ethereum operations into AI data centers.  In some cases, the neoclouds rent capacity from colocation firms like Core Scientific and Applied Digital who, in turn, raise debt to build the data centers and secure the power, leaving the neoclouds to buy all of the IT gear to go inside. Much like the hyperscalers, neoclouds have committed to build gigawatts of data center capacity, which means they’ve had to raise massive amounts of debt. And while their capital expenditures rival the biggest companies in the world, their revenues are a footnote to the amount of cash going out the door, and it’s only getting worse every quarter: As I’ve said before, while everybody wants to make the AI bubble really complex , it’s actually super simple: hundreds of billions of dollars are being invested to make single-digit billions of dollars maybe, some day, if AI data centers actually get built at scale and OpenAI and Anthropic can afford to pay for their compute.  The unbelievable cost of building AI data centers is such that everyone that does so only appears to lose money, to the point that the richest companies in the world are running a deficit, and the AI compute specialists are hemorrhaging billions of dollars a quarter on the off chance that they might make it back by the year 2030.  Not to worry, though. The combined might of private credit , investment banks and global bond markets have funded over $500 billion in AI-related debt issuance in 2026 alone, across a combination of regular bonds, convoluted special purpose vehicles, convertible notes (IE: loans that convert into stock), delayed-drawn term loans, and direct lending, with a worrying amount of the same names — such as asset managers like Blackrock and Blackstone and Japanese banks MUFJ and SMBC — popping up across a vast majority of the deals.  Yet the problem isn’t just that it’s very expensive , but that everyone I’ve mentioned has made it clear they’re going to need more and more money. Goldman Sachs estimates that hyperscalers will raise $400 billion in bonds alone in 2027, and consensus analyst estimates have CoreWeave, Nebius, and IREN spending an aggregate $97 billion, which will be funded almost entirely through debt. Well, okay, there’re way more problems than that. Every hyperscaler, data center SPV, and neocloud will need to raise money during an era of abject chaos and ever-climbing prices: interest rates are spiking for literally everybody , and NVIDIA just raised its prices by 15% as a result of DRAM costs skyrocketing, which has increased the cost of GPUs and basically every other imaginable thing that goes in a data center. Today’s newsletter is the first part in a comprehensive and gruesome exploration of the world of debt propping up the AI bubble, breaking down how the debt works, how it’s raised, who’s funding it, and why the increasing cost of everything threatens to make the AI buildout untenable. I’ve got the charts, numbers and explanations you need to understand how strange and expensive things are about to get. This is the Hater’s Guide To AI Debt, or The KobayAIshi Maru. AI chips are extremely expensive. AI data centers take a great deal of time to build and energize. AI services are expensive to run. AI services do not appear to generate much revenue.

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AI Is Already In Dangerous Hands

If you liked this piece, you should subscribe to my premium newsletter, and you can subscribe on the following links: $70 a year , $18 a quarter , or $7 a month . In return you get a weekly newsletter that’s usually anywhere from 10,000 to 18,000 words, including vast, detailed analyses of NVIDIA , Anthropic and OpenAI’s finances , and the AI bubble writ large .  On Friday, I’ll publish The Hater’s Guide to AI Debt — or, how buzz surrounding OpenAI and Anthropic have created massive concentration risk for world debt markets, and one which you’ll potentially be paying for, either through your pension funds and insurance premiums, or because you’ll have to live and work through the economic downturn that’s coming. For a taste of what’s to come, consider reading my Hater's Guides To the SaaSpocalypse , Private Credit and Private Equity .   If you want to get in touch — and especially if you have any juicy information about Anthropic, OpenAI, or any other companies in the AI bubble — hit me up on Signal at ezitron.76. I’m also on IB on your Bloomberg Terminal.  Late last week, everything exploded when former Anthropic AI researcher Jacob Coxon, in an exclusive interview with the Wall Street Journal , warned that he was “quitting the AI industry” (he wasn’t) over “...fears that the lab and its competitors are racing to build systems they won’t be able to control.”  His fears were centered around the creation of “recursive self-improvement,” a still-theoretical concept of AI that trains itself autonomously” and otherwise expressing few specific concerns beyond that “AI labs are unable to control AI,” always phrasing things in the terms of impossible-to-control entities rather than poorly-programmed cloud software running on the infrastructure of the largest companies in the world.  Emily Forlini of Fortune put it best : This is because, in my opinion, Jacob does not really care about the actual harms of AI, whether we’re talking about Large Language Models or something he imagined while working with the non-profit or PR firm that set up a CBS interview where he claimed that AI that, if we’re talking about LLMs, have model weights of terabytes of memory, would make ten thousand copies of themselves .  Or, of course, bullshit like this: At no point did Coxon bring up how ChatGPT was used as a “suicide coach ,” directly caused a murder-suicide , or aided and abetted in mass shootings in Florida and Canada , or the horrifying gas turbines poisoning black communities . His own discussion of the Hugging Face attack — much like all of his criticisms — focuses on the anthropomorphization of large language models as this unknowable, unstoppable force, with no real responsibility for anyone involved. This is a repetition of what we saw back in February when Matt Shumer’s abominable “Something Big Is Happening” essay spread like wildfire to every imaginable news outlet despite it being somewhere between nonsensical and utterly fictional, except this time the narrative got a little out of hand . While Coxon’s warnings are specious and, in many cases, not really about anything other than him saying “yeah I heard a lot of my colleagues say stuff like that,” but nevertheless have had the effect of making a lot of people really scared of AI , even if AI can’t really do the things he’s talking about. The one tangible thing he talks about is the Hugging Face attack, which is being described in terms of AI having “plans” or “acting on its own accord,” and even then, when pushed by WIRED, his response was he “[didn’t] want to focus too much on the Hugging Face attack.”  So, let’s talk about what happened there, because it’s important! To answer this question, I turn to frequent Better Offline guest Cal Newport’s piece on the subject from July : First of all, what was OpenAI trying to do?  And what happened? I’m going to quote Cal liberally here, because he’s explained it well: this was a series of Large Language Models connected to a software program built to prompt them to complete an evaluation framework specifically to do cybersecurity attacks (along with near-infinite amounts of compute) “solving” the problem using any and all methods available, including hacking Hugging Face In other words, the LLMs — albeit through convoluted and aggressive means — “solved” the problem they were tasked with. As Cal said, there was no situation where the AI “went rogue.”  They took some weird ways of getting there for sure ( like using a message board to communicate messages between LLMs ) — and did exactly what they were supposed to do, even if it meant taking ridiculous routes to cover up that they’d cheated on a test. You’ll notice that Jacob Coxon, who ostensibly would know this as a researcher (but perhaps he doesn’t!), chose instead to describe the hack to WIRED like so: Beautiful linguistics, champ!  They were not “trying to understand the world they were in,” they took actions defined in their training material as a way of executing a task.   They were doing exactly what it was that the ExploitGym test required! The “all sorts of ideas” were a function of being allowed to use as much compute as possible to execute the task.  What’s particularly telling, as I’ve hinted at, was Coxon’s response when it was (lightly) suggested that the labs need to take responsibility: Jacob is intentionally trying to frame Large Language Models — which are kind of a black box, but a black box made up of maths — as this unknowable autonomous, mischievous being that the AI labs have conjured out of the ether. “We can’t make sure it won’t do things like…” frames the labs as helpless stewards rather than the creators of a kind of neural network run on massive amounts of big tech’s infrastructure. Every statement Coxon makes that’s allegedly about “safety” or “protecting people” does everything it can to distance the AI labs from any responsibility or even active participation in any of this beyond some fatalistic level of “well, somebody’s gonna do this, why not us?” And I also want to be clear about something: The Hugging Face attack was dangerous, reckless and somebody should go to prison for it. If a regular person used massive amounts of compute capacity to hack something, they’d be arrested. While I’m not a lawyer, the numerous cybersecurity experts I’ve discussed this with are stunned by the complete lack of any legal action against OpenAI, which appears to have committed a crime that gets you anywhere from a year to a decade in the slammer . The fact that LLMs from both Anthropic and Meta have been involved in similar incidents is a sign that we need to arrest more people. LLMs do not have to be conscious or powerful AI to be incredibly dangerous. The fact that Anthropic, OpenAI, and Meta are both training and allowing cybersecurity models to connect to their vast amounts of GPU infrastructure is irresponsible and should not be legal. The reason they are training these models, as I got into in my podcast Better Offline with Cal Newport , is that there’s a mountain of potential different kinds of exploit and vulnerability data online that you can cram into these models now that they’re hitting the diminishing returns on coding.  Yet flowery linguistics from people like Jacob Coxon and the greater AI industry have muddied the waters of what’s actually going on and who is truly responsible. If AI is described in terms of the unknown and being uncontrollable, the “risk” gets turned on its head from “we need to stop these companies from doing this” to “we must let these companies keep doing this because they’re the only ones who understand it.” The AI industry wants to frame this as if Anthropic, OpenAI, and Meta discovered some new lifeform rather than having run a volatile kind of machine learning evaluation with poor cybersecurity practices. If the industry is the one saying that we should “be so scared of powerful AI,” it means that nobody is responsible for what it does — not even the people making it do it. LLMs are cloud software. Framing them as anything else only seeks to mystify them and make the companies seem more powerful, all while doing absolutely nothing to make the world safer or more secure. The Hugging Face attack is not something that was made possible as a result of “powerful AI” so much as it was the weaponization of hundreds of billions of dollars’ worth of GPU-powered infrastructure owned by Microsoft, Google, Amazon, Oracle, and CoreWeave.  This was not an LLM that was asked to generate a picture of “increasingly sexier Garfields” that decided instead to hack Hugging Face. This was not an “agent” that “went rogue.” It was software doing what software was asked to do, using other bits of software to work out what to do next, all as OpenAI, the company that ran the software, did not appear to have any kind of notification or observability that said “hey man, thousands of LLMs are doing something right now.” This suggests the following: In any case, whatever happened with Jacob Coxon struck a nerve in a media ecosystem where it appears many people do not have object permanence. This is a short note, but an important one: the terminology of “pacing the frontier” or “slowing down” implicitly buys into the narrative that the AI industry’s path is the correct one, and that the only problem is the speed it’s moving at. The way that LLMs have been trained is harmful in effectively every way. It is trained on theft, powered by expensive and power-intensive infrastructure and is both unprofitable and unsustainable. LLMs are not the tool for any kind of beautiful, automated future — they are inefficient, volatile and mathematically certain to make mistakes . “Slowing down” is not sufficient. In my opinion, there is no further reason to invest in this industry, nor has there been for the vast majority of its existence.  Every success that LLMs have had is a direct result of throwing at least half a trillion dollars in infrastructure and compute spend at problems that had vast amounts of data that could be trained against. Half a trillion dollars should have bought us a lot more than this. While I will not dispute that they can do more than a year ago, I am unimpressed, because this is more than ten times what Amazon’s entire capex between 2003 and 2015, the years between AWS’ creation and when it hit profitability.  This is a terrible deal, its results suck, and the amount of attention it’s gotten is a direct result of the media’s inability to speak truth to power or do anything other than repeat what they say and a financial bubble driven by LLMs’ unbelievable infrastructural cost. If — and this is not a foregone conclusion — there is ever an AI that we, as a society, should fund and build infrastructure for in pursuit of some civic good, it is not the one peddled by Elon Musk, Sam Altman or Dario Amodei.  This is not the right path, and every further step down it makes the bubble’s collapse worse, as well as multiplying the dangerous and reckless experiments these companies are capable of doing thanks to their near-unlimited access to compute.  The entire Jacob Coxon thing is very, very strange. He had never tweeted before his post that now has over 170 million views on Twitter and interviews with the WSJ , CNN , NBC , CBS , and a bunch of other outlets that should’ve known better. While he had only been at Anthropic a few months ( and lost stock options when he resigned ), he had been at OpenAI for years and absolutely had options vested from there. Retweets of his post were clearly coordinated with various AI safety organizations, and the speed at which it took off with the media makes all of this look incredibly contrived, as does Coxon’s total lack of any direct critiques or “blown whistles” about the AI labs themselves, other than that they “can do more safety” and “should coordinate a global slowdown.” In the end, it doesn’t really matter, because even though most of the media mostly jumped at their own shadow, the sheer volume of traffic to Coxon’s tweet and his endless media interviews have now moved the idea of the need for a “global AI slowdown” into the global zeitgeist. Turns out that using scare tactics and threatening everyone’s jobs on and off for three years has a consequence.  While it’s tempting to view this entirely as an opp — a coordinated industry-wide plan to push for some sort of self-regulation — in my mind it’s likely an attempt by the AI safety people to push an agenda that has spiralled completely out of control. Within a day of Coxon’s post, Clammy Sam Altman spoke with Fortune saying that OpenAI was delaying going public until 2027, as it was an “ill-advised moment” due to “safety concerns” rather than, I imagine, the fact that its financials are godawful .  He later posted two (two!) lengthy posts on Twitter, where he said that while OpenAI “[welcomes] a federal framework that sets consistent safety requirements for frontier AI, ” it doesn’t believe the industry should wait, although failed to suggest potential solutions other than mentioning it was “excited by ideas like independent auditors."   This was followed up with the same usual scaremongering guff where he said that there two ways “AI progress could go very badly,” with the first being that “we could lose control of the future to AI,” something he did not elaborate upon, with the second being that AI could result in power becoming too densely concentrated with one company. I had to resist the urge to fall asleep while writing this paragraph.   Dario Amodei of Anthropic took to CBS to say that for “too long” the industry had “lied” about risks, saying that the “biggest one” was killing all humans, never mentioning when an LLM convinced a teenager to kill himself or its own hacking incidents because “AI safety” never relates to the things they’re building today. The most-obvious version is in Amodei’s own “ pace the frontier ” blog: The “third party evaluator” he chooses is METR, the very same place that Joe Benton, an Anthropic researcher who quit two weeks ago , chose to move to after being convinced that AI companies are “underinvesting in safety.” You’ll also notice that Benton’s safety suggestions are self-serving: Nothing about the environmental impact, the theft of millions of people’s creative works , nothing about AI psychosis, just a bunch of stuff about how we need progress toward a still-theoretical idea that sounds really good if you’re trying to hype up a company. Not long after Amodei discussed slowing things down, it broke that Anthropic had chosen NASDAQ for its IPO , shortly before the FT reported that Anthropic would “ have a profitable third quarter ” if — I shit you not — you ignore costs like training and stock-based compensation.  What the fuck is a slowdown if it involves an IPO, the purpose of which (besides allowing insiders to cash out their holdings) is usually to help the company going public raise capital from the public markets? What the fuck is a slowdown if you’re leaking (assuming Anthropic was behind it) you’re “profitable” in the least-GAAP way possible? God, I’m tired of this industry. There are, of course, real, meaningful things you could do if you actually were worried about LLMs — halting all model training, all cybersecurity evaluations, and starting a criminal inquiry into the Hugging Face attack that ends in somebody going to jail for the crime they used the models to commit. If it turns out multiple people are legally liable, tough fucking shit , you are going to jail for a crime, you are not special because you used agents to do it. To be clear, I am extremely hesitant to believe anybody is “slowing down.” Anthropic’s own statements mostly amount to “we should all agree to not do something we’re not doing yet,” much like those made by Musk and Altman . Yet the sickly irony of all of this safety theater — and that’s all it is without any actual tangible attempts to deal with the harms of the technology that actually exists — is that a boneheaded media incapable of catching out grifters has accidentally destabilized an already-tenuous narrative. Put another way, I think everybody has their own agenda, nobody has a plan, and that everything is accelerating like the end of a Coen Brothers movie as every little narrative thread gets tangled together in a potentially jumbled and chaotic conclusion. Back in early 2023 , a young(er) Sam Altman said that OpenAI was “a little bit scared” of AI, adding that we should “guard against potentially negative consequences for humanity,” adding that they “could be used for offensive cyber-attacks.” In the end he was right, but only because he made sure that was the case.  For years the AI industry has engaged in endless, vague safety theater about the “risks” of AI, all while peddling software that is actively harmful and unreliable. The “success” of the Hugging Face attack was largely a result of the sheer scale of OpenAI’s compute operation, and would not have been possible without Microsoft, Google, Amazon, Oracle, and CoreWeave’s continued enabling of an unprofitable, unsustainable company that is desperate for new business models. Yet I must be clear that the Hugging Face attack happened two months ago. Everybody doing backflips out of fear about “powerful, autonomous AI breaking out of the sandbox” is mostly doing so because a British guy went on TV and said “AI will kill us all,” and while I can’t resent a pale British man getting broadcast opportunities, I take exception with those who are so densely packed with bullshit. Nevertheless , Coxon struck a match next to a giant pile of dynamite laid by years of pantomime about “AI risks” that didn’t actually apply to the things that the labs were building.  The dueling brain cells of VanderHei and Allen at Axios declaring that we were going to face a “ white collar bloodbath ” were not based on anything LLMs can do, nor have any of the bullshit stories around so-called white collar job loss , nor was the early GPT-4 scare hype around “LLMs blackmailing people,” nor were the numerous stories about AI 2027 , but they were demonstrations of how ready the media was to lose their entire shit over a narrative that the AI industry was deliberately encouraging: that AI was powerful, unknowable and uncontrollable. Everything was always about selling today’s tools based on what might happen and occasionally scaring people about what that meant without ever really attaching it to the stuff they were doing today. While there may be some people that had honourable or sincere beliefs that AI was or is potentially dangerous, rarely if ever did these stories actually discuss these harms, which meant that nobody ever really did “AI safety” in any meaningful way. While alignment — as in making sure the models were trained to act in a predictable way that created good outcomes — is a noble and necessary goal for training large language models, at no point has any “slowdown” or “pause” been suggested based on the grounds of what these things actually do. This rocked for the companies for a while, because it meant that they could vaguely say “wow, AI is going to be so powerful” every so often and every member of the media would crap their pants and give them a headline. Every story was about how “today’s breakthroughs proved that tomorrow’s AI would be even more powerful ,” which they loved because, well, it meant their companies would be even more valuable as a result, even if raising that valuation required intimidating people about the prospect of them losing their jobs, even if the software itself didn’t really do what they were promising (which didn’t matter to basically any journalist covering this field). Their “powerful AI” — graded not based on actual outcomes but preferential anecdotes and performance on benchmarks rigged for the LLMs — was always “on the frontier” and “getting smarter every day,” all because AI labs and hyperscalers had intentionally sold their products based on some theoretical future version that would fix all the problems.  In other words, whatever they did was seen through the best light, described in the terms of the best parts of the present and the best promises of the future, and given credit as if it had already happened.  This is, as they’ve found, a double-edged sword. When journalists will believe (and print) whatever you say, they’ll start believing that the real thing (LLMs) does the same thing as the imaginary future thing (AGI, ASI, golden egg-laying geese ), or will do so, even if that thing is bad .  These companies had spent years puffing up their LLMs’ potential using vague promises of superintelligence and theoretical model capabilities, at times inflating its capabilities further through scary quotes ( here’s a list of Altman’s! ), intentionally training models to blackmail people and entirely-fictional stories about “breaking containment,” and never realized that at any time one of the near-cultist types that joined their companies and heard everybody talking in terms of “ p(doom) ” (fuck off) could take it all seriously and the media might believe them. This puts the industry in an odd position.  While on one hand, Altman, Amodei, Musk, and the rest of them know that they can’t roll back the narrative and say “everyone, stop freaking out, it’s fine, it’s just cloud software,” they also know that they have to do something because everybody is pissing their pants , even if it’s about something that is only really scary as a direct result of their scaremongering.  I’ve already seen a good amount of AI boosters trying to rein in Jacob Coxon’s scaremongering, or suggest that everybody calms down and remembers that AI is the biggest thing on the stock market.  At this point, it would’ve been really nice if the industry was operating in lock-step, except, as ever, Sam Altman had to go and fuck everything up, telling Fortune the following when asked whether pauses would cost the company a lot of money:   This is a very, very worrying thing for Altman to say given that OpenAI has projected to spend $750 billion or more in the next three years across compute contracts with Microsoft, Google, Amazon, CoreWeave, Cerebras and other providers.  In fact, the very concept of a slowdown runs contrary to everything that the AI industry needs. If NVIDIA is to sell $670 billion or more GPUs in Fiscal Year 2028 or, per analyst expectations, Anthropic and OpenAI are to spend more than $444 across Google, Microsoft and Amazon in the next three years , or Broadcom is to sell nearly $600 billion in AI chips in the next three years , both Anthropic and OpenAI must keep and make their $1.3 trillion in compute commitments and support the development of 10GW or more of capacity, all of which requires them to continue accelerating at a dramatic pace. Softbank just raised $11.87bn in debt from around twenty banks — all to support its investment in OpenAI, and more than its target of $10bn — and that wouldn’t be possible if the model labs had collectively decided to temper the pace of model development.  There is no way a “slow down” actually gels with the overall narrative of AI’s rapacious growth. As Anthropic and OpenAI represent 70% of hyperscalers’ AI revenues , there really is no fallback plan — there are no other customers who will naturally fill out the hundreds of billions of dollars’ worth of infrastructure, no other uses for the hundreds of thousands of GPUs bought from NVIDIA outside of generative AI, no ways in which we can simply “use the models we’ve got forever” without inherently accepting the limitations (and unsustainable costs) of running LLMs.  A pause could, in theory, mean that AI labs could slash their worst expense — training costs. While this might have the short-term benefit of reducing costs (and maybe even, with the right amount of accounting shenanigans, eek out a razor-thin positive margin), it’s likely that Chinese open source developers would distill ( as they have been ) Western models, create a much cheaper and “good enough” model to compete, and their “lead” in a race where everybody loses money would deteriorate.  Even then, what are OpenAI or Anthropic if they’re not cranking out some new version of a model or creating some vague sense of virality about the next one? What possible use is an Altman or Amodei if they’re not always on the phone to somebody signing hundreds of billions of dollars of compute contracts or promising some journalist-adjacent homunculus that Anthropic is going to cure cancer ?  What is the LLM industry without a series of promises that extend infinitely into the future? What is Anthropic or OpenAI without the suggestion that it might be something completely different in an ever-distant future? It isn’t clear, but what is clear is that a “slow down” does not gel with “insatiable demands for compute” or somehow being able to pay more in operating expenses in a year than Microsoft or Meta .  There’s also the very reasonable question of what happens to SoftBank if OpenAI can’t go public , which is now a very real possibility. With over $40 billion of debt due to be refinanced this year at a time of skyrocketing interest rates, it’s probably the single-worst time in history for it to be doing a $20 billion bond sale (separate from the aforementioned $11.87bn bank loan), which is why I think things are getting a little tight. You’ll notice I’m a little light on predictions, and that’s because everything is a little volatile right now. Nobody has really committed to an actual slowdown beyond vague suggestions of an “independent” authority that would look at models and do something or rather, and based on what Amodei has said, it’s clear that a “pausing” really just means “saying we’ll take a little more time but not really change how we’re doing business.” Alternatively, I’m dead wrong, and this is a moment of actual change caused by a runaway narrative years in the making. By deliberately misleading the media and the general public about the current and future capabilities of Large Language Models as means of inflating their valuations and justifying massive expansion of AI compute capacity, the labs made a sales pitch driven by scaring people into submission, assuming, like they do with their technology, that they had complete control over the situation. As it stands, a slowdown is deeply impractical due to the massive commitments. As OpenAI and Anthropic make up the vast majority of AI compute demand, any contraction of that demand would mean material restatements of revenue (and the $748 billion in revenue backlogs ) across every hyperscaler, along with the neoclouds and any other counterparty. The AI industry’s entire pitch to investors has been that all of these GPUs would be used and then some and that we needed to build all this capacity to reach the heights of AI breakthroughs , and while it was already questionable whether or not we needed that capacity, we certainly don’t if we’re “slowing down.”  And I must be clear, AI cannot “slow down” without creating some kind of serious financial crisis within the tech industry. Hundreds of billions of dollars’ worth of hyperscaler revenues and data center capacity is tied up in the idea that demand for it actually exists, and if the two companies with the most demand suddenly need to slow their roll, it’s hard to see how the capacity gets used.  Worse still, we’re most decidedly not done issuing debt for AI data centers — and I don’t see how anyone hearing about some kind of “AI slowdown” (real or imagined) feels particularly confident in backing a data center, considering investors barely understood what they were investing in to begin with. The fact that Anthropic is going full steam ahead with its IPO is a sign that it doesn’t really care about slowing down, but all of this talk about “AI dangers” — even as we fail to deal with a single one of them — is enough to rattle an already-nervous market about the future growth trajectory of a company where people keep leaving and saying “it’s gonna kill us all!”  Some are arguing that the “slowdown” talk is a way to unwind the AI trade — to give AI labs a way out of their $1.3 trillion in commitments — and while it may or may not work out that way, I think it’s far simpler: the AI industry is run by a series of different entities with deeply cynical and selfish beliefs, all operating “in sync” only so far as it benefits ideologies and intentions that change on a daily basis.  Sadly, in the end, none of this is about actually fixing or mitigating the harms of Large Language Models, or holding those who have perpetuated those harms responsible.  What it may do — though I’m not getting my hopes up prematurely — is lead to the unwinding of the AI trade as reality slams head-first into the scaremongering overpromises of some of the least-trustworthy and most-craven executives in the history of society. Perhaps it’s a way that these massive cloud compute contracts could be canceled, or a way to reduce these labs in size. It may also serve as a convenient way to avoid admitting that they’re running out of things that LLMs can do that approximate a product or even the completion of a task. Alternatively, it could just be another brief moment in the history of a bubble inflated by its misinformation and a media ecosystem dedicated to spreading it. The Hugging Face attack and any other “hacking incidents” are a result of poorly-run AI labs training volatile neural networks bankrolled by and run on infrastructure owned by the richest and most-powerful companies in the world. Every attempt to focus this conversation on “what AI is doing” or “what AI could do” deliberately or otherwise separates us from the grim truth that we need to start arresting people for committing crimes, halting any and all training runs, and putting real safeguards on this technology — not because it’s all-powerful, sentient, conscious, or even “innovative,” but because it’s clear that the people running these labs are irresponsible and the people backing them don’t give a shit. There are, however, things we can do, per former FTC Chair Lina Khan , if we actually had any interest in doing so: If LLMs were a toy, they’d be taken off the shelves. If LLMs were a drug, they would be banned.  I agree that we need to take “AI safety” seriously, but that starts with treating LLMs as normal software run in a reckless and dangerous manner by malevolent entities with little regard for society. If you liked this piece, you should subscribe to my premium newsletter. It’s $70 a year , $18 a quarter , or $7 a month , and in return you get a weekly newsletter that’s usually anywhere from 10,000 to 18,000 words and provides vast, detailed analyses of the biggest events and companies in the AI bubble. If you want to get in touch — and especially if you have any juicy information about Anthropic, OpenAI, or any other companies in the AI bubble — hit me up on Signal at ezitron.76. I’m also on IB on The Terminal. OpenAI operates like a billion-dollar adult summer camp where its AI scientists can burn millions of dollars in compute without anyone really noticing. OpenAI has godawful security practices.  OpenAI doesn’t really give much of a shit about AI safety, or if it does it’s very, very bad at it.

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Premium: The Hater's Guide To Broadcom

According to The Information , in early 2024, Broadcom CEO Hock Tan hosted a “coffee chat” with employees of the recently-acquired VMWare , and introduced them to his particular brand of management: He may not be your dad, but Hock Tan sure is a motherfucker. Broadcom is a company you likely know for its XPU platform — a collection of different bits of intellectual property and access to semiconductor parts that allow it to build custom AI chips, the best-known of which are Google’s TPUs . It just signed a $30 billion deal with Apple to build “custom ASIC silicon products .”  Apple was already a massive customer of Broadcom, which historically provided a good chunk of  the wireless and radio frequency parts that you’d find inside iPhones and its other devices, representing at one point more than 20% of revenues, dropping to around 10% to 15% with the growth of AI chip sales and the acquisition of VMWare. For the most part, Broadcom’s business is built on selling companies the internal bits and pieces of either their hardware or the hardware surrounding their hardware — everything from wireless and RF components to data center networking tools.  It also dabbles in mainframe software (from its acquisition of CA Technologies ), security (from its acquisition of Symantec’s enterprise security business ), and virtualization software (from its acquisition of VMWare), and these segments cost it a combined $99.1 billion in cash and stock (not counting for inflation).  Except “Broadcom,” as a company, wasn’t always called Broadcom, and wasn’t founded by Hock Tan. As I’ll get into in this piece, “Broadcom” was once two very different companies — a wireless communication chips company founded in 1998 called “Broadcom,” and the private equity-formed monstrosity formed out of a spun-off semiconductor subsidiary of Hewlett Packard called “Avago Technologies.”  Much like Oracle , Broadcom is the story of a company acquiring other companies and then screwing over both its customers and employees in the pursuit of endless growth, which usually involves price gouging, massive layoffs, and cost-cutting anywhere that won’t improve margins. A great example came from a Wall Street Journal piece from January 2018 involving Broadcom’s failed $117 billion attempt to acquire Qualcomm:  Two months later, the deal would collapse despite a dozen banks signing on ( per Reuters ) to provide Broadcom a $100 billion bridge loan to get the deal done, with President Trump vetoing the deal to avoid Broadcom (then a Singapore-based company) exercising control over the US-based Qualcomm. To give some credit to the administration, the CFIUS had ( per The Hill ) “...worried that Broadcom’s takeover would lead to a decline in investments in research and development in the sector, opening the door for Chinese firms to take the lead in developing next-generation wireless technology.”  That R&D point was a very real concern. Per The Journal: Pffft, 19%? That’s chump change. Since the acquisition of VMware, Broadcom’s R&D budget as a share of revenue has decayed to an unremarkable 9.8% of revenue in its latest quarter.  On a trailing-twelve-month basis, Broadcom is exceptional among its peers for how little it invests in R&D as a percentage of revenue, beaten only by NVIDIA, which has the excuse that it is the literal largest and most-profitable company on the US stock market.  That’s because Broadcom doesn’t really do “innovation” or care about “being good to its customers, but by hoarding other people’s patents, iterating on their creations as little as necessary, and making it impossible to avoid wiring Hock Tan money. Even its FBAR filters (used to block out interference on mobile phones) — a critical part of its deal with Apple — come from Avago’s acquisition of the original Broadcom. A year or two ago, this could’ve been called The Hater’s Guide To Avago , because that’s really been the story of Broadcom — a Singaporean semiconductor firm that rolls up other companies’ technology under a brand made famous by somebody else.  Per The Wall Street Journal, a few months before its acquisition of Broadcom :  Much like Oracle , Broadcom used M&A as a means of treading water revenue-wise, with each one having little effect on its overall trajectory outside of its acquisition of VMWare. Yet Broadcom had been building something quietly behind the scenes through the combined acquisitions of LSI (which had merged with Agere a few years previously) and its own semiconductor might — a budding relationship with Google to build its Tensor Processing Units (TPUs), AI chips that at first worked to support products like Search and Maps, and would eventually become a huge part of the AI boom.  To be clear, Broadcom didn’t “see anything coming” or “catch the AI boom in its infancy.” While it deserves some credit for rolling up various different semiconductor companies like it’s playing Katamari Damacy, this is not a situation where Hock Tan or anyone had any kind of precognitive event that made them invest in ASICs in anticipation of a massive payoff.  What actually happened was far simpler: Google, which had already been running its services powered by (non-LLM) AI, got Broadcom to use its pile of various patents and supply chain connections to put together specialized silicon that had incremental boosts to Broadcom’s revenues until the launch of ChatGPT scared Sundar Pichai into sinking billions — and then tens of billions — of dollars into successive generations of TPUs. And in Fiscal Year 2024, Broadcom began breaking out that revenue from its semiconductor solutions division, and something became alarmingly clear: that it’s become dependent on AI revenues for virtually all of its future growth. Between Q1 FY2024 and Q3 FY2026, AI revenue has gone from 19.2% to 56.4% of Broadcom’s revenue, with analysts expecting it to make up 68.4% of FY27, 79.8% of FY28 and 81.9% of FY29. And you’ll never guess who the customers are!  That’s right — OpenAI (for its Jalapeno AI chip) and Anthropic (buying Google TPUs) , who are set to become Broadcom’s largest customers in Fiscal Year 2027, which means that tens of billions (and eventually hundreds of billions) of dollars of revenue will be tied to whether two unprofitable, unsustainable AI companies can afford to pay.  This is the story of how a grab-bag of other people’s innovations has accelerated in the space of three years to become one of the largest AI chipmakers of the world, and how its desperation for growth has forced it to engage in the darkest forms of circular financing. This is The Hater’s Guide To Broadcom — the hard numbers and charts behind Hock Tan’s aggressive play to beat NVIDIA and become Google, Anthropic, and OpenAI’s chipmaker of choice…and how dangerous it might be if it fails.

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Concentration Risk

If you liked this piece, you should subscribe to my premium newsletter. It’s $70 a year , $18 a quarter , or $7 a month , and in return you get a weekly newsletter that’s usually anywhere from 10,000 to 18,000 words, including vast, detailed analyses of NVIDIA , Anthropic and OpenAI’s finances , and the AI bubble writ large . My Hater's Guides To the SaaSpocalypse , Private Credit and Private Equity are essential to understanding our current financial system, and my guide to how OpenAI Kills Oracle pairs nicely with my Hater's Guide To Oracle, as well as the Hater’s Guide To Oracle (Part 2). I also just did a two part Hater's Guide To Circular Financing, covering the depths of NVIDIA's circular madness and the history of a very dangerous kind of "financial innovation." Subscribing to premium is both great value and makes it possible to write these large, deeply-researched free pieces every week. This week's premium will be The Hater’s Guide To Broadcom, a company that has long ceased to innovate, and whose existence centers on buying successful companies and jacking up prices, and now, building chips for Anthropic and OpenAI, while also taking on (and backstopping) insane amounts of debt. In short, Broadcom is the unholy lovechild of NVIDIA and Oracle.  If you want to get in touch — and especially if you have any juicy information about Anthropic, OpenAI, or any other companies in the AI bubble — hit me up on Signal at ezitron.76. I’m also on IB on your Bloomberg Terminal.  Jensen Huang, CEO of NVIDIA, the largest company on the stock market, has declared that “ AGI has arrived ” in a response to the CEO of Crusoe congratulating OpenAI on the launch of its GPT-6 Astra model , who said that this “made Abilene the birthplace of AGI.” Per sources with direct knowledge of the current progress of Stargate Abilene, the AI data center being built by Crusoe for Oracle to lease to OpenAI, there are at most four out of eight buildings functional at the Abilene campus, which started construction some time in 2024 . Huang at no point defines what “AGI” is, other than to say that we’ve reached it, and that “400k GPUs coming online” was what was next, I assume referring to somewhere else on Earth, because Abilene only has space for a total of 400,000 Blackwell GPUs , of which (as I’ve noted) at best half of which are actually installed and functional. The reason that everybody is talking about AGI is that TIME magazine , bereft of any journalistic standards or shame, quoted OpenAI Chief Research Officer Mark Chen as saying that OpenAI was “80% of the way” to AGI,” only for Chief Operating Officer Greg Brockman to say a few days later that we had entered the “ AGI era, whether you view it as this model, the last one or the next one ,” which the Wall Street Journal agrees with , even though it cannot define exactly what AGI means, but this is the AI bubble and those most-responsible for telling the truth are mostly incapable or unwilling to bother. These companies are treating everybody like they’re stupid, in large part because everybody, including the largest media outlets in the world, appears to fall for just about anything. Neither NVIDIA nor Crusoe have actually done anything — we have not reached “AGI,” nor has “the birthplace of AGI” been completed, nor does anybody seem to bring up these facts in any of the pieces I’ve read outside of saying “hmm, well AGI isn’t really well-defined,” humouring what these companies are saying without a single thought entering their minds.  If anything, the far-more-interesting way to look at this is why all of these people are suddenly jerking their shit from first principles over a term that is meant to mean “an artificial intelligence that can handle tasks beyond its original training” but now means basically anything the companies want it to, and how that times with the rush for both Anthropic and OpenAI to go public.  The answer is pretty simple: these people want to stop you thinking about what’s actually happening — that the underlying financials and demand do not make sense, and their cloud software does not remotely justify its alarming costs. Today I’m going to talk to you about why I think there’s a Silicon Valley Financial Crisis brewing, and the concentration risks involved.  So, today we’re going to talk about a term you may or may not have heard of before: concentration risk. It’s a term that refers to having all your eggs in one or a few baskets, becoming overly reliant on a few investments, customers or particular business lines to the point that without them your business or portfolio would suffer massive harms. In banking specifically, to quote the National Credit Union Administration , it refers to any single exposure or group of exposures with the potential to produce losses large enough (relative to capital, total assets, or overall risk level) to threaten a financial institution’s health or ability to maintain its core operations. I bring this all up because you’re going to hear this term, or variations of this term, a lot in the next few months and years as the AI bubble unravels, because just about every part of the industry involves its own flavor of concentration risk. Let’s start at the top. Per data from fintech firm Ramp , 80% of OpenAI and Anthropic's enterprise revenues come from 1% of their customers, a number that hasn’t improved over the last three years. Ramp’s lead economist Ara Kharazian notes that the top 1% skews heavily toward the tech sector and AI products and services , and that this was a level of concentration risk unseen in any other software category they tracked. Oh, and it hasn’t gotten better over time. This dataset, which likely includes big companies like Visa and Cursor as well as a great deal of startups and regular-sized companies, is indicative of the overall spend of the AI industry, with the caveat that it doesn’t include massive players like Microsoft or major banks, and customers can opt out of being included in research. I also want to be clear that when Ramp says “AI products and services,” that includes AI startups that sell subscriptions with subsidized token spend, meaning that users can burn far more than their subscription price in tokens. This means that the money made by Anthropic or OpenAI from an AI startup in that 1% spend is contingent on their continued ability to raise venture capital.  This means that the vast majority of enterprises — which is where the real money is in software — just don’t spend that much money on AI. Those that do spend the most on it are heavily-concentrated in either AI companies that either use a lot of tokens internally because they’re bankrolled by venture capital, AI companies that allow their users to blow unsustainable amounts of money on tokens bankrolled by venture capital, tech companies that are currently under heavy peer pressure to spend money on AI tokens, and I assume a few whale customers of some sort. During the Great Financial Crisis, millions of people took on debt they never had any hope of paying, with one of the most egregious examples being “ NINJA ” loans — N o I ncome N o J ob A pplicants or N o I ncome N o J ob A ssets (I've seen both). Per Pew , “...in the years before the Great Recession, almost 38% of new mortgages required little or no documentation.”  To be specific, 36.5% of 2005 and 37.9% of American home purchases in 2006 were from buyers with little-to-no income documentation, which meant that, for the most part, these subprime mortgage payments were only made possible by a system that was desperate to create more demand for loans rather than creating a lending agreement with a stable customer who would be able to make regular payments.  A “homeowner” in 2005 and 2006 could easily be somebody who could not, in any real sense, afford the home they were buying. I sure hope that nobody is making that same mis- OH MY GOD ! This means that 80% of OpenAI and Anthropic’s enterprise revenues — which make up the vast majority of their total revenues — are dependent on what are likely hundreds of customers spending outsized amounts of money on AI tokens, with an indeterminately-large chunk of them being AI startups that can only do so as long as venture capital supports them.  Let me break down exactly what this means: AI startups are an artificial source of revenue. They are not paying Anthropic and OpenAI out of cashflow, or because they’re “getting great value,” and indeed are only able to do so as long as somebody else hands them endless amounts of cash. While their revenues may be increasing, they pale in comparison to the sheer sums raised or the rate at which they’re raised. Harvey raised over $800 million in 2025 alone , and exited the year at around $190 million in annualized run rate, or around $15.8 million a month, meaning that it would’ve been completely dead over a year ago without venture capital propping it up.  And let’s be completely clear: OpenAI and Anthropic are financially dependent on these customers to survive. While “enterprise” could refer to a cluster of Fortune 500 or big businesses that are theoretically using LLMs for coding or whatever, it’s very clear based on Ramp’s data that one of (if not) the largest sources of revenue for these companies is AI startups that can literally not afford to pay for tokens without venture capital funding. AI startups are also the easiest to make spend more on AI because of their users’ subsidized token burn. When somebody fires up something like Harvey or Perplexity, they’re going to expect the latest models, which means that every AI startup is effectively a venture-backed marketing platform for the latest models, spiking costs for the company while feeding those dollars directly to the AI labs. When a user doesn’t have to worry about their actual costs and the provider doesn’t have to either because it’s bankrolled by venture capital, it’s really easy to see surges of revenue around every new model launch, giving AI startups a new way to beckon users back to the platform ( see: Perplexity ) and AI labs a bump in revenue in return. AI startups represent a massive concentration risk for OpenAI and Anthropic, because this isn’t real revenue. Providing these services to AI startups isn’t making their customers “more money” so much as it gives them a justification to keep raising money. While Harvey or Perplexity might “need” AI models to run their businesses, they are not paying for them because of any value or business model or strategy so much as that they’re in a Red Queen’s Race where they must offer the latest models at whatever cost to “stay current.” If anything, without funding these businesses would have to stop offering Anthropic and OpenAI’s models to reach anything approximating sustainability, because the cost of AI tokens is the primary driver of their losses. To give you an idea of the scale of these customers, last week OpenAI announced it was cutting off AI coding company Cursor (which is now part of SpaceX), with WIRED reporting that it was set to make OpenAI over $1 billion in revenue in 2026, or over 3% of its projected $30 billion in 2026 revenue . With OpenAI only representing 5% of Cursor’s traffic , it’s likely sending billions more to Anthropic this year, a massive underlying exposure that could easily evaporate if Elon Musk decides he doesn’t want to send all that money to competing AI labs. Cursor was only able to keep sending that money to Anthropic and OpenAI because it raised $3.2 billion in the space of four months — June ($900 million) and November 2025 ($2.3 billion). Per The Information from July 2025 , Anthropic’s two largest customers represented $1.2 billion of annualized run rate (30% of its $4 billion run rate at the time), with investors believing they were Cursor and Microsoft’s GitHub Copilot, the latter of which moved to token-based billing in June 2026 . The problem is both that Anthropic and OpenAI’s largest customers cannot afford to pay them and that they desperately need them to keep paying them more every quarter, which means that every single AI startup will need to raise more and more money to do so.   They are, as I’ve suggested, the NINJA borrowers of the AI era. They do not have to show functional businesses or sustainable demand for their products, only an excitement to sign pieces of paper and an eagerness to continue spending money that isn’t theirs. The “houses,” in this case, are the ever-increasing valuations of the startups themselves. There is no logical or rational basis to value Perplexity at a potential $30 billion ( per The Information ) or to give it billions of dollars, other than the fact that venture capitalists want to see the value of the company go up, and NVIDIA wants to make sure it can keep spending billions with Anthropic and OpenAI. And much like NINJA borrowers, this bad behavior is enabled on a systemic level, with 50% of all global venture capital flowing into AI in 2025 . As mentioned, the “top 1%” skews toward tech and AI startups, which means that even outside of unsustainable AI companies, Anthropic and OpenAI are mostly-reliant on the same customers they’ve always had for revenue growth.  That means that outside of unprofitable AI startups, the vast majority of “enterprises” spending money on AI are tech companies rather than other industries. The tech industry is far more willing to dabble and invest money in new stuff , especially if everybody else in the industry is screaming about it non-stop for years , meaning that its “interest” is driven by far more than “is this actually useful” or “do we actually need this.” Tech companies have more software engineers, and in turn more software to be built or iterated upon, along with more willingness at the C-suite level to spend money on software tools .  I’ll add, however, as Ramp’s Kharazian noted, that this was “...a level of concentration risk unseen in any other software category [than they track],” which means this is an AI-specific concentration rather than a problem with software writ large. In other words, outside of the tech and AI world, very few companies are willing to pay very much for AI, which is catastrophic on just about every level, with no clear sign as to how you reverse the trend.  AI has been in every media outlet and discussed in every boardroom and company for the last three years, every single company has on some level dabbled in using AI, most businesses have been given the greenlight to spend a bunch of money on AI, and in the end, it seems the only people the tech industry can get to spend significant money on AI is…the tech industry itself. “The tech industry” also includes an indeterminately-large amount of venture-backed startups who, much like AI startups, can only afford to spend a lot of money on AI as long as somebody else gives them the money to do so. This is yet more underlying exposure for the AI labs, because these customers are also prime targets to move to either cheaper open source models that they train themselves or, eventually, on-device models.  Even if they choose to stay with Anthropic and OpenAI, a chunk of this spend is contingent on venture capital funding, and the rest is contingent on whether tech firms continue to be willing to spend money at scale. 80% of their revenue concentration depends on spending and capital that varies from unreliable to actively-unstable. Things get worse from here. So, I realize that a few months ago I described AI data center debt as the subprime mortgages of the AI bubble , and I stand by that comparison at the time I made it, and think it still matches.  That being said, another example has emerged — Anthropic and OpenAI’s monstrous compute commitments, which now represent over $1.3 Trillion in revenue for hyperscalers and neoclouds like Google, Microsoft, Amazon , SpaceX , Hut8 , SB Energy , Oracle , Cerebras , Nscale and Lambda .  To be specific, per the Wall Street Journal , OpenAI projected to spend over $750 billion on compute through 2030 in July 2026 before it signed its deal with SB Energy ( more info here ), and per The Information’s research , Anthropic has signed approximately $517 billion in agreements in the last 11 months. These are, from what I can tell, “take-or-pay” agreements where they agree to buy that compute capacity regardless of how much capacity they actually end up using, and how much revenue they actually bring in.  And when the compute is available, or about to be available, you have to pay a chunk of money up front before you start using it. As a reminder, both are woefully unprofitable and lose tens of billions of dollars a year. Even if they were profitable, the sheer scale of their commitments is astonishing, representing a massive underlying risk to some of the largest companies in the world.  To give you an idea of that risk, per Bloomberg OpenAI’s compute spend and revenue share represented around 70% of Microsoft’s AI revenue in Fiscal Year 2026 — which just ended in June — or a little over 7% of Microsoft’s entire fiscal year revenue, and UBS estimates that Anthropic and OpenAI’s compute spend will account for 48% of Google Cloud’s entire revenue next year, or somewhere between $84 billion and $100 billion dollars, in 2027.  That’s on top of, per Barclays, OpenAI and Anthropic’s estimated $40 billion dollar spend on Amazon Web Services, and at least $50 billion dollars that both of them will spend on Microsoft Azure in Calendar Year 2027, which I note because Microsoft uses its odd fiscal year system.  On the low end, that means that Anthropic and OpenAI account for over $200 billion dollars worth of expected revenues for Microsoft, Google and Amazon in 2027, which is contingent on their ability to raise venture capital or debt, which is contingent on the continued growth of their businesses, which is contingent on growing AI spend from a small subset of customers, many of whom are funded by venture capital. The reason this hasn’t been a problem yet is that when you sign these contracts, you tend to pay a small up front fee, and the capacity in question is yet to come online.  All it takes for Anthropic or OpenAI to sign hundreds of billions of dollars’ worth of obligations with a little bit of cash and a few clicks of a DocuSign agreement, meaning that all that capacity isn’t costing them anything until the date hits when they have to start paying. That’s going to start happening next year, and get dramatically worse month after month as capacity comes online.  Hey, that reminds me of something too. Anthropic and OpenAI’s compute commitments, in my mind, should be seen more as debt obligations than “contracts,” because they (as take-or-pay agreements) function in much the same way, requiring the company to pay whether or not they need the capacity. For now, everything looks awesome . Microsoft, Google and Amazon have all had big bumps in revenue from AI lab compute spend along with massive, ever-swelling revenue backlogs — over $1.5 trillion worth to be specific. More than half of that backlog is attributable to Anthropic and OpenAI , which, as I’ll say again and again, isn’t a problem because the money is yet to stop coming in.  As mentioned, this is going to begin in earnest in 2027, and expand dramatically every year following (though I doubt we will make it that far).  A really shittily-written piece (full of incorrect numbers and zero citations written using an LLM) from an outlet called Groundbreaker made a good point about this, comparing it to when the rates on millions of mortgages exploded as they hit a “reset wall,” where the low “teaser interest rates” ended, exploding the monthly mortgage payments to unsustainable highs, with customers assuming, incorrectly, that their houses would keep appreciating or they’d be able to refinance.  In other words, Anthropic and OpenAI are currently in the teaser rate period where all of that capacity — and all of the associated costs — are yet to hit. Next year, at least $200 billion in compute costs are coming due. The question is whether Anthropic and OpenAI, two unprofitable, unsustainable AI labs that lose tens of billions of dollars a year, will be able to afford to pay them. If you ask the vast majority of tech and business journalists, consultants or sell-side analysts, they’ll tell you not to worry — that there’s insatiable demand for compute , or even that said demand “ may never be sated ,” and that even if there is a bubble, society will get “gigantic benefits” either way . These views are always backed up by data from the industry, which is trusted, for some reason, to tell the truth about itself. The argument that most would make is that both Anthropic and OpenAI will be able to buy all of that compute, and even if they couldn’t afford it, other customers would line up to take the demand. When pushed about how the big AI labs would actually afford this compute, everyone will tell you that “they’re the fastest growing companies in the world.” In this case, we’re talking about $1.3 trillion in demand from two customers who have a few hundred customers that mostly pay them based on the availability of venture capital dollars. While the consequences might be different — as the scale and damage of the Great Financial Crisis was driven by trillions in speculation — the mistakes are increasingly looking very, very similar. And so are the rationalizations. In the period leading up to the Great Financial Crisis, approximately 80% of US-based subprime borrowers got adjustable-rate mortgages with “teaser rates” — lower interest rates for the first two-to-three years followed by adjustable rates that changed with both interest rates and, in some cases, fees associated with said adjustments. These mortgages were known as 2/28 or 3/27 mortgages, depending on whether the teaser period lasted two or three years. One important thing to note is that the “teaser rate” wasn’t by any means low (they could be as much as 7%), only that they were lower than the normal rate.   When borrowers worried about the potential for higher monthly payments, they were reassured that they’d be able to refinance, or that the price of their house would only ever increase. Per an FDIC report on the Great Financial Crisis : While warnings about a housing bubble started as early as August 2002 ( good work, Dean Baker! ), there was a broad (though not complete) consensus that there was, in fact, no housing bubble. In August 2005 , the National Association of Realtors put out multiple “anti-bubble” reports, saying that “the facts simply do not support the possibility of having a housing bust” in 130 specific markets and the nation at large. Then Fed Chair nominee Ben Bernanke said in October 2005 that “there was no housing bubble to go bust,” noting that even if there was a “moderate cooling in the housing market,” that it would “not be inconsistent with the economy continuing to grow at near its potential next year.”  Yet my favourite is from July 2005 , when the Wall Street Journal’s Neil Barsky (in a piece called “What Housing Bubble?”) mocked The Economist for calling it “the biggest bubble in history,” castigating “the media and economists [scaring] homeowners with words of doom and gloom, however knee-jerk, consensual and misguided they may be,” saying that “there is no housing bubble [in America].” His justifications involved saying that the housing market was strong as a result of “real economic underpinnings” like “low interest rates, local job growth and the emotional attachment one has for one’s home.” Yet the most-relevant one was that he connected the strong housing market to the “real economic underpinning of "one's view of one's future earning-power,” and his thoughts around housing demand:  Hey, this kind of reminds me of something that NVIDIA CFO Colette Kress said on its latest earnings call : This piece rules, primarily based on its answer to the “myth” that “risky mortgage products are fueling house appreciation, which mostly boils down to “homeowners only own their homes for an average of seven years [note: he has no citations for this claim], which means that you’re basically wasting money by not getting an adjustable rate mortgage. I could go on. On December 21, 2006, CNBC’s Diana Olick ran a piece based on reader feedback around housing numbers provided by the National Association of Realtors, The Department of Commerce and the National Association of Homebuilders: Olick’s piece, at least on the surface, attempted to have a “balanced” view, but mostly ended up arguing that everything was fine, with even a quote from Wharton School of Business professor Susan Wachter saying that the numbers — which all said that things were “improving” — “in some ways [gave her] confidence,” adding that she had no problem with statistics from realtors or home builders.  Olick, feeling defensive, ended the piece as such: Now, in her defense, perhaps the numbers did say everything was fine if you squinted , but the sheer venom that Olick had for concerned listeners that called her “some kind of apologist or defender of the industry” rather than, say, going out and doing journalism …mirrors basically all of the reporting on AI today, which mostly says “ the numbers look great!” while, well, ignoring the ones that don’t. Less than a week later on December 27, 2006, CNBC would run a story called “ Analyst: Housing Bubble Fears Behind Us ,” quoting former US International Trade Commission economist Peter Morici as saying that home numbers sales were “very good news for the economy,” and that he “expected new home construction to rebound in the second and third quarters of 2007.” Here’s what actually happened : I must be clear that the Groundbreaker piece that inspired this piece is horribly written Claudeslop, but deserves credit for this idea, even if it fumbles basically every number, cites effectively nothing, and has near-impenetrable text that I’m not certain most people even read. Nevertheless, I must quote it: Groundbreaker neglects to cite anything, so I went and actually found the chart shared by the IMF via Credit Suisse : The “wall” in this case refers to the large group of Subprime borrowers who suddenly, starting in 2007, would see their mortgage payments skyrocket to the tune of tens of billions of dollars a month (as Groundbreaker correctly said).  In other words, before everyone had to pay more money, everything looked fine because everybody could still make their payments. Once they had to start making larger payments and couldn’t make those payments , with mortgage delinquencies spiking gradually every month from January 2007, peaking at 11.49% more than three years later in March 2010 , taking another six years to drop below 5%. You’ll also note that everything unwound very quickly , with much of it beginning in 2007 and 2008 as teaser rates ended. Subprime mortgage originations collapsed by the end of 2008 as private label securitization from banks and financial institutions (per page 19 of the FDIC report) which “had provided much of the funding for new mortgages” dropped dramatically and had “virtually disappeared” by 2008.  Said interest in funding new mortgages was, as we know now, barely anything to do with building houses so much as it was a way to build a new asset class for investors to speculate on.  And, very importantly, the massive expansion of subprime mortgage issuance mostly took place over a three-year-long period. While this rush of new housing development and mortgage origination was sold to everybody as the result of endless demand for housing , said demand for housing was driven by masses of easily-available money being given to people who couldn’t afford it outside of a manic period in history. You can probably see where I’m going with this. Everything seemed totally fine in the years running up to the Great Financial Crisis because, based on external data, the money hadn’t stopped coming in. Because effectively anybody could get a mortgage, US construction spending comprised nearly 9% of GDP by 2006, employing 7.7 million people, all because of the “demand” for housing created by the illusory demand created by subprime lending.  While nobody at the time could’ve possibly anticipated the sheer scale of speculation that would eventually unwind the global financial system, there was plenty of coverage of subprime borrowers being a problem. Not to worry though, The Brookings Institute explained in October 2007 that this wouldn’t be a problem , emphasis mine: Nevertheless, in November 2007, Fed Governor Randall S. Kroszner did make a very clear warning: And here’s the fun part: Anthropic and OpenAI’s reset wall is actually way simpler, more-concentrated and easier-to-spot if you bother to look! As I mentioned in my premium from a few weeks ago ( How Much Money Does AI Need? ), analysts from UBS, Barclays and Wells Fargo expect — by which I mean they are setting expectations — that Anthropic and OpenAI will account for at least $444 billion of hyperscaler earnings in the next three years. To be specific, I pulled together all the numbers from my AI Demand Bubble newsletter from a few weeks ago , and found that Anthropic and OpenAI will account for at least $365 billion in revenue across Fiscal Years 2026, 2027, and 2028. To estimate the contribution — and be incredibly fair! — I have assumed OpenAI and Anthropic’s Microsoft spend will be linear (at $52.5 billion) across fiscal year 2028, and then halved it for fiscal year 2029, which gets us to a grand total of $444 billion. That spike in costs comes from Stephen Ju of UBS’ estimates , and even if you think that’s a little high , I would estimate that the $250 billion of commitments made by OpenAI alone on Microsoft Azure will likely mean Microsoft is expecting tens of billions more than $52.5 billion in FY27 and beyond. I also need to express how much more money this is than these companies are already spending on compute. In 2025, OpenAI spent ( per my own reporting, assuming 50% of sales and marketing was compute expenses ) a little over $29.5 billion on compute. Per The Information’s reporting , it spent $12.1 billion (with no affordance for sales and marketing) in the first quarter of 2026, and while we don’t know how much it spent in Q2 ( when revenues grew by $1 billion quarter-over-quarter ), it’s fair to assume that it’ll spend another $12 billion or so a quarter for the rest of the year, for a total of $48.4 billion, which is less than the $50 billion it said it expected to spend on compute in 2026 . Per Barclays and UBS, OpenAI is projected to spend $15 billion on AWS and $12.5 billion on Google Cloud in 2027, with Wells Fargo estimating it will spend $22.9 billion for the first two quarters of 2027 making it reasonable to assume at least $45 billion, for a total of $72.5 billion… which, even then, seems a little low based on what it’s already on track to spend in 2026.  Then you have to add in another $30 billion from Oracle’s $300 billion, five-year-long deal with OpenAI, which the Wall Street Journal reports is expected to drive $30 billion in revenue starting in 2027 , though my own research found that it could be more than $50 billion or $60 billion Meanwhile, Anthropic is expected to spend $25.3 billion on AWS and $101.25 billion on Google Cloud in 2027, increasing to $35.8 billion with AWS in 2028 and dropping to $25.6 billion with Google Cloud in 2028, likely as a result of the initial cost being buying TPUs. Since then, Anthropic took on $35 billion in debt to buy TPUs from Broadcom (which also backstopped the debt), with another $70 billion deal potentially on the cards . I haven’t even included either company’s deals with CoreWeave, OpenAI’s contract with Cerebras, Anthropic’s SpaceX deal, or many of the deals noted in The Information’s story about Anthropic’s $517 billion in compute commitments . As both Anthropic and OpenAI are private companies and we lack any meaningful accounting standards around disclosures for revenue backlogs, we can only estimate how big the compute reset wall is at any given point in time .  Part of the problem is that we don’t know how much capacity is actually coming online ( as hyperscalers refuse to give any clarity ), and said capacity has to come online for Anthropic and OpenAI to pay for it. It’s frustrating, because it means that “$1.3 trillion” number is hard to append to a period of time. That being said, we do know that the Wall Street Journal has OpenAI projecting it will spend $750 billion on compute through the end of 2030 , which suggests at least $250 billion a year in compute spend. If it doesn’t, it means that in 2028 or 2029, its commitments could spike to $300 billion or $400 billion a year. Is that good? Let’s be abundantly clear about something: there is no rational or responsible way that Google, Microsoft, Amazon and the various other neoclouds should have allowed Anthropic and OpenAI to sign up for so much compute capacity, outside of the kind of blind faith that always goes wrong. Neither OpenAI nor Anthropic can actually afford to pay their commitments if they don’t grow by around 10x in the next three years, and at some point find a way to become profitable, which will require at least a trillion dollars in funding or debt. Hyperscalers are doing all of this based on the very same logic that led to the massive issuance of subprime (and prime-but-unpayable) mortgages and the resulting overbuild of housing — that the money hadn’t stopped being spent. Venture capital and private credit have conspired to keep feeding Anthropic and OpenAI money (along with the hyperscalers themselves), much as they’ve continued to feed money into data center deals they’d theoretically occupy. Similarly, hyperscalers continue to build out capacity for Anthropic and OpenAI under the continued assumption that they’ll keep paying, driven mostly by the fact that they’ve yet to stop doing so. They assume, somehow, that OpenAI and Anthropic’s ability to pay them tens of billions a year is all the proof they need that they’ll pay them hundreds of billions of dollars’ worth in the future. Per Groundbreaker : This is completely correct, unless of course you’re a member of the tech and business media, in which case it’s “a large amount of money that will of course be paid without fail.”  So, let me give you some context about how big these commitments are. Microsoft’s trailing-twelve-month operating expenses are $176 billion for a company with $331 billion in annual revenue . Meta, a company with $228 billion in annual revenue , has around $141 billion in operating expenses . Salesforce, a company with a little under $44 billion in annual revenue , has $35 billion in operating expenses . OpenAI, in 2025, had $34 billion in operating expenses on $13.07 billion in revenue . In Q2 2026, its operating margin worsened to negative 183% . This is a company with deteriorating economics that has been allowed to sign hundreds of billions of dollars’ worth of compute commitments based on, for the most part, Sam Altman’s ability to say yes and the general sense that nothing bad ever happens to anyone. These commitments were signed, I assume, with effectively no underwriting, because anyone with a calculator and sentience can see that on paper these companies cannot afford their commitments. The rationale is exactly the same as that used to hand-wave against worries around subprime defaults — that the system is working, that the system will always correct itself, and that things keep on growing. In any case, neither OpenAI nor Anthropic actually have the money to pay for their obligations , and have only been able to keep up because of the low cost of signing contracts .  As these commitments begin, their needs for capital will dramatically accelerate in ugly chunks, both with hyperscalers and neocloud partners, on top of any debt deals they sign with Broadcom to fund their own silicon. And the vast majority of these commitments and payments are yet to occur, which is, as is the theme of this newsletter, why nobody is worried yet. Meanwhile, one abstraction higher, even the companies that are actually making a profit on the AI bubble are exposed to the underlying risk of Anthropic and OpenAI. I’m going to dispense with the direct Great Financial Crisis comparisons at this point because I think it’ll get in the way of the analysis, but let’s be abundantly clear about something : either directly or by proxy, NVIDIA’s customer base is effectively Anthropic and OpenAI. As I went into in part 2 of my Hater’s Guide To Circular Financing , OpenAI and Anthropic provide two functions to hyperscalers and NVIDIA: To get specific about that second point, whenever you hear someone say that there’s “massive demand for AI compute,” they always point to revenue backlogs that are, for the most part, either OpenAI, Anthropic, or someone else renting them compute. For example, CoreWeave’s latest earnings involved the outright-deceptive statement that its “[$104 billion] revenue backlog [highlights] unprecedented demand for CoreWeave Cloud,” even though $22.4 billion of that is OpenAI, $21 billion is from Meta, $6 billion is from Jane Street (which also invested), and the rest is from some combination of Anthropic, Microsoft, and NVIDIA’s $6.3 billion backstop deal to buy unused capacity . To be specific, CoreWeave’s backlog increased by $32.6 billion in the earnings immediately following its Anthropic deal. These revenue backlogs exist as both circular financing and financialized marketing schemes.  From the outside, every company with masses of AI compute also has an astonishingly-large backlog, which everyone assumes must be sold to a diverse subset of customers rather than Anthropic, OpenAI, and the companies that might one day sell them compute. In other words, everything is based on the idea that Anthropic and OpenAI are A) going to have near-infinite demand for compute and B) that their existence is proof somebody else will too. The other problem is that NVIDIA’s GPUs are so god damn expensive that nobody — including the largest and richest companies in the world (minus Microsoft) — can afford to keep buying them and building data centers without taking on near-infinite amounts of debt, reducing the pool of potential customers dramatically. You can already see this in NVIDIA’s latest earnings . Almost half — 44% — of its FY2027 revenue so far (two quarters) came from three customers, and 16% of its most-recent quarterly revenue came from one customer, likely SpaceX, which serves Anthropic compute. Per my recent premium newsletter , UBS estimates that around 50% of NVIDIA’s data center revenue comes from Meta, Google, Microsoft, Amazon, and Oracle, with Deutsche Bank estimating it’s as high as 60%. The justification for these further capital expenditures is, for the most part, driven by OpenAI and Anthropic, with their demand driven in large part by unprofitable AI startups subsidizing their users’ AI tokens.  While NVIDIA might talk about how we’ve “reached AGI” or that there’s “crazy demand,” the actual financial returns on buying NVIDIA GPUs are driven almost entirely by OpenAI and Anthropic, by which I mean Microsoft, Google, Amazon, Oracle, CoreWeave, Lambda, Hut8, Fluidstack, and basically every other counterparty is building capacity either mostly or entirely to capture their revenue. The best example I can find is SB Energy , which has a $439 billion backlog, 99.4% of which is earmarked for OpenAI. Further non-OpenAI/Anthropic GPU sales are contingent on NVIDIA’s perception management keeping everybody believing that there’s real demand for AI compute, which is why it effectively acquired Poolside , and may invest billions in Perplexity and Thinking Machines . Neither of these companies could actually afford to exist without venture capital (or NVIDIA) dollars, but with NVIDIA’s investment, they can potentially add hundreds of millions or billions of dollars of further “demand” to the backlogs of hyperscalers or neoclouds. Once again, everyone assumes everything is fine, because the money has yet to run out, and because NVIDIA is promising 70% year-over-year growth in Fiscal Year 2028 . Data center debt continues to be available for neoclouds as well as barely-existent data center developers like SB Energy ( backstopped, of course, by NVIDIA ), mostly because of the illusion of “massive demand for AI compute” created in part by NVIDIA itself.  And, fundamentally, NVIDIA’s revenues are dependent on whether hyperscalers keep being paid by OpenAI and Anthropic, because those are the only two companies that could ever hope to justify their trillion-plus dollars of capex. As I’ve already noted, per Bloomberg , only around $10 billion of Microsoft’s $33.33 billion in FY2026 AI revenue came from selling compute or AI-powered software to its customers — a pathetic sum that suggests very little actual demand for AI when you remove its unsustainable failson. Broadcom, in its attempts to compete with NVIDIA, has decided it needs a little concentration risk of its own, and per its most-recent earnings , Anthropic and OpenAI are set to become its largest and second-largest customers in its next fiscal year.  Much like the hyperscalers, neither Broadcom nor NVIDIA is going bankrupt as a result of the AI bubble bursting, but Broadcom’s future revenues — estimated at $230 billion in Fiscal Year 2028 (which begins November 2027) — are now dependent on both direct purchases from hyperscalers (justified by Anthropic and OpenAI) and the AI labs themselves , creating, somehow, greater underlying exposure. However you may feel about me or the greater AI bubble is immaterial to the fact that everything will seem like it’s fine right up until somebody can’t raise money and make a payment to either a neocloud, hyperscaler or AI lab. For this to keep working, AI startups must continue to be able to raise hundreds of millions of dollars every few months, all as Anthropic and OpenAI must continue to raise tens (or hundreds) of billions of dollars to pay hyperscalers for compute so that they can, in addition to raising hundreds of billions of dollars, spend that money on GPUs from NVIDIA, who can only continue to make hundreds of billions of dollars a year as long as it can either provide justifications for lenders to keep issuing hundreds of billions of dollars in debt or backstop the data centers the debt will get spent on.  In other words, the AI bubble is based on the whims of maybe a few hundred companies spending money on two companies to justify five companies spending money with one company. Or two if you count Broadcom, which you don’t have to if you don’t want to. If you tell most journalists or investors any of this stuff, they’ll tell you not to worry about it. Per The Information : Anyone who tells you “not to worry” about a company that loses billions of dollars a year and has made $517 billion in compute commitments is a con artist, and anyone who prints a quote like that without a comment about how deeply worrying it is doesn’t really give a shit about whether you live or die.  But that really is the current state of the tech industry: a death cult obsessed with growth empowered by a media ecosystem obsessed with measuring and celebrating how much it’s growing and might grow in the future, always framed in the terms set by the rich and powerful. The failure of both parties to meet the moment with clarity and purpose will lead to a market correction that likely dwarfs the Dot Com Bubble, exposing many of those involved as a phoney, a fraud, an imbecile, a ghoul, a coward, or utterly, impossibly ignorant. If you liked this piece, you should subscribe to my premium newsletter. It’s $70 a year , $18 a quarter , or $7 a month , and in return you get a weekly newsletter that’s usually anywhere from 10,000 to 18,000 words and provides vast, detailed analyses of the biggest events and companies in the AI bubble. If you want to get in touch — and especially if you have any juicy information about Anthropic, OpenAI, or any other companies in the AI bubble — hit me up on Signal at ezitron.76. I’m also on IB on The Terminal. AI startups, when they run their services, connect to models provided by OpenAI and Anthropic and pay on a per-million token basis. In virtually every case I’ve found, the AI startup “subsidizes” the AI use of their customers, allowing them to burn way more than their monthly subscription in tokens, with the AI startup paying for the tokens at either full or a slightly-discounted price. This is only made possible through endless venture capital.  For example, legal AI startup Harvey has raised over $1 billion and is trying to raise another $500 million , all while only having $350 million in ‘annualized’ revenue, meaning (assuming a straight-line month x 12 calculation) it makes only around $29 million a month. Harvey, like many AI startups, is sending hundreds of millions of dollars to Anthropic and OpenAI. This means that these AI startup customers will, at some point, run out of money to keep feeding to OpenAI and Anthropic, because running their services is economically unviable by the very nature of connecting to AI models. They are the largest direct consumer of AI compute, representing more than 70% of all AI revenues for Google, Microsoft, Amazon, Oracle, SpaceX, Cerebras and Lambda, either through direct contracts or via hyperscalers renting compute (see: Nebius and Microsoft, Lambda and Microsoft/Amazon, CoreWeave with Microsoft). They are a way of creating the illusion of demand via revenue backlogs.

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Premium: The Hater's Guide To Circular Financing (Part Two)

You know, sometimes it’s kind of hard to explain the “circular” part of circular financing to people, in the sense that some of the agreements are kind of clunky. NVIDIA funds OpenAI, who then spends that money to rent back NVIDIA GPUs from Microsoft, Google, Amazon, or CoreWeave, and then that money is used…to buy servers from Taiwanese ODMs (original design manufacturers) that build their servers, who then buy GPUs from NVIDIA to put in them. The reason it’s clunky is that people will, even if it’s not true , claim that there’s some indeterminately-large “other” subset of customers that are also buying compute or NVIDIA GPUs, and that we should as a result ignore our lying eyes and, if anything, celebrate how well this is all working. While there’s a ‘circle’ of ‘finance,’ it’s not a problem because somewhere in the mess of money exists a few real dollars, and because we can’t precisely measure them, there’s nothing to be concerned about! Fear not, dear reader, because we finally have a pure, unfiltered circular financing operation to obsess over — SoftBank subsidiary SB Energy just filed its S-1 , and it’s so incredibly circular that I’m genuinely surprised that they bothered to list. That’s a good question, and not as obvious an answer as you’d think. So, SB Energy is/was a renewable energy business, one that was technically founded in 2019 , but sold most of its shares (along with most of its wind and solar power) to Toyota in April 2023 , which then became a company called “Terras Energy,” leaving SoftBank with 15% of the remaining shares. While it’s unclear what exactly was left behind, a company called SB Energy raised $2.4 billion from a consortium of banks in November 2023, then re-emerged in 2024 as a data center power company for Google in Milam County (called Orion), raising $500 million from SoftBank and asset manager Ares , and in early 2025 was mentioned in the initial announcement of the non-existent Stargate data center project in relation to an OpenAI-focused data center in Milam County Texas , which suggests the Google deal is done and OpenAI will take over. All remained fairly quiet for SB Energy until January 2026, when OpenAI and SoftBank invested $500 million each , and a few months later in March, a consortium of Japanese and US companies announced their intention to build a data center on a Department of Energy site in Piketon, Ohio . In August 2026, SB Energy and OpenAI announced a deal where it would lease 10GW of capacity, at some point in the future, with NVIDIA backstopping $105 billion of the deal, though it turned out that the actual terms were that if it gets built , NVIDIA will cover the difference if nobody else will lease it and if selling off the pieces doesn’t amount to $105 billion. The critical words there are if it gets built, because NVIDIA does not have to pay a dime if it isn’t. NVIDIA has also agreed to invest $3 billion , with $1.5 billion up front, with another $1.5 billion, per the Journal, as a “prepaid forward contract,” meaning it’ll get paid the shares on the close of the offering. SB Energy also provided 4 million share warrants to OpenAI, along with a board designation right as long as it owns 5% of shares, per the Journal, at a value of approximately $5.5 billion. SB Energy made about $138 million in the first half of 2026, predominantly from selling power.  Its data center division made a whopping $653,000.  Not to worry though, SB Energy has tons of capacity under construction… …except 99.4% of that capacity is earmarked for OpenAI, and based on that “RFS” (ready for service) date, it looks like none of it will come online before 2028. In fact, virtually the entirety of SB Energy’s revenue is contingent on A) finishing these data centers and B) OpenAI being able to pay for them. Well, let’s not get too worried. Perhaps SB Energy has other data center capacity somewhere? No, no, that’d show up there. Maybe it will…make…money elsewhere? Somehow? I hear it has a $439 billion backlog, it’s gotta make that money at some point, right? Jesus fucking christ!   I realize that’s a big pile of numbers and words, but of that $439 billion, SB Energy estimates that it will make $1 billion of it within the next two years , $12 billion of it within the next four years , $30 billion of it within the next six years , $39 billion within the next eight years , and $357 billion at some point after that. 97% of SB Energy’s revenue backlog will arrive more than four years in the future, and will be contingent on SB Energy being able to spend $178 billion in capital expenditures. OpenAI’s leases are split across 17 different SPVs, all of which I assume will try to raise debt at some point.  To summarize, SoftBank portfolio company SB Energy has signed $439 billion in business with SoftBank portfolio company OpenAI, which is also an investor in SB Energy, as well as its largest (and only real) client. Its ability to make any of this money relies upon it completing two different and incredibly ambitious infrastructure projects — a 1GW data center in Milam County Texas, and a 10GW buildout in Ohio, the latter of which is only half backstopped by NVIDIA if it actually gets built . Let’s be frank: this IPO is only made possible by circular financing, with the vast majority of its valuation coming from entirely-theoretical deals with a company that cannot afford to pay it for data center capacity it cannot afford to build.  This is about as blatant an “emperor has no clothes” situation as you could ask for. 99.4% of SB Energy’s future revenue is contingent upon building data center capacity, which will take years , using funds that have not been raised, all for a customer that will need to make more than ten times its current revenue to pay it.  Anyone writing about this IPO should be directly informing investors that they are, for the most part, investing in a few signatures and strips of land owned by a company that has, to this point, not actually built an AI data center.  Instead, most blandly repeat that SB Energy “has a huge contract with OpenAI” and "hundreds of billions of dollars in its revenue backlog.” While last week’s premium focused heavily on NVIDIA, today I’m digging into the rest of the AI bubble’s circular suspects, as well as the history of circular financing itself, as a means of explaining exactly how brittle and dangerous this all is.

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Hyperscale Normalization

If you liked this piece, you should subscribe to my premium newsletter. It’s $70 a year , $18 a quarter , or $7 a month , and in return you get a weekly newsletter that’s usually anywhere from 10,000 to 18,000 words, including vast, detailed analyses of NVIDIA , Anthropic and OpenAI’s finances , and the AI bubble writ large .  My Hater's Guides To the SaaSpocalypse , Private Credit and Private Equity are essential to understanding our current financial system, and my guide to how OpenAI Kills Oracle pairs nicely with my Hater's Guide To Oracle, as well as the Hater’s Guide To Oracle (Part 2). Subscribing to premium is both great value and makes it possible to write these large, deeply-researched free pieces every week. This week's premium will be the finale to The Hater's Guide To Circular Financing , where I’ll talk about the history of this particular flavor of financial shenanigans, and the current users outside of NVIDIA.   If you want to get in touch — and especially if you have any juicy information about Anthropic, OpenAI, or any other companies in the AI bubble — hit me up on Signal at ezitron.76. I’m also on IB on The Terminal.  Soundtrack: Ben Zimmerman — Dyers Eve We’re going to take a strange trip to get back to the AI bubble, but trust me, it’s worth it. In Adam Curtis’ documentary Hypernormalization , he describes, and I quote, a world where “...over the past 40 years, politicians, financiers and technological utopians, rather than face up to the real complexities of the world, retreated,” constructing what he calls “a simpler version of the world in order to hang on to power,” with the world going along with it because “the simplicity was reassuring.”  Hypernormalization heavily focuses on post-cold war Russia, the means used to justify the Iraq war, and the rise of Donald Trump, but its lessons ring through everything I’ve been discussing for the last few years — that the tech industry and the markets themselves have moved beyond innovation or value creation into the realm of “managing” situations rather than addressing them, creating whatever reality is necessary to keep “things” going, no matter how ridiculous or unstable.  A lot of this comes from a lack of accountability. Nobody faced any real consequences for lying about evidence of WMDs in Iraq or the Great Financial Crisis. In fact, most of the people in question, even those who lost a lot of money, came roaring back years later. The amount of times I’ve read some bio of some guy who was working at Lehman, or Bear Stearns, or even Enron who eventually returned to their pre-crash status quo is enough to make one doubt the existence of consequences, or to convince oneself of the fact that they’re unevenly distributed.  Even outside of outright financial or war crimes, outright failures like Adam Neumann can raise another $350 million after pumping WeWork to a $47 billion valuation by outright lying about its gruesome finances , and a venture capital industry that can barely return a dollar per invested dollar continues to be able to raise billions of dollars.  In other words, we’re in a society of management rather than progress. While Dodd-Frank and the ( now-weakened ) Volcker Rule theoretically helped curb some of the excesses of the Great Financial Crisis, most of the people involved remain both wealthy and employed, blissfully un-blackballed from the world of finance or by the media.  While financial institutions and companies saw over $14 trillion in bailouts , only $46 billion (about 10%) focused on trying to save homeowners from foreclosure , and in the end, to quote a congressional panel from 2009 , “...[there was] no evidence that [the] Treasury has used TARP funds to support the housing market by avoiding preventable foreclosures.”  Government funds were used to manage a systemic crisis by making sure the system survived rather than building a better society, because doing so — feeding it money, cleaning up its messes, explaining away its excesses — is easier than having any kind of vision or ideal to aspire to.  Doing so strips out (as I’ll quote again shortly) the “intractable complexities of the real world” by creating a simpler one — that the system works, that “progress” always flows through following the course of (often poorly-remembered) history. Per Curtis: Everything ultimately returns to a point where you say “the system has worked this long and always works out in the end,” even if it hasn’t actually done so, because thinking of an alternative — even as you see proof point after proof point — is near-impossible due to the prominence of the dogma and confidence from those in power. The flaws of simplistic, systemic thinking are that it “always works out,” as if time is simply repetitions of the same story again and again, versus a series of events that each feed into each other, each compounding the next one’s sins. Instead of building a robust social safety net after the Great Financial Crisis, America chose instead to drop interest rates to near zero, only choosing to slowly raise them in December 2015, then drop them again in the wake of COVID, giving trillions of dollars to businesses on top of near-unrestricted lending standards that helped corporations and banks swell with profits, all as regular people got a single stimulus check and unemployment insurance that varied dramatically state-to-state. Nevertheless, the advent of remote work gave workers remarkable flexibility, leading to what was called The Great Resignation , as 50 million people quit their jobs in 2022, and, rather than celebrate an era of worker flexibility of power, the system sprung into action to drag us back to the status quo, predominantly through the media.  It — by which I mean those most-interested in bringing things “back to normal” — had already started aggressively attacking remote work , but added a new attack in the form of “ quiet quitting ,” an ecosystem-wide attempt to reframe “doing your job” as “not doing enough” as thinkpiece after thinkpiece suggested that no, actually, we needed to be back in the office immediately. For the most part, people really liked remote work, and while there are downsides of never seeing anyone, it was mostly an incredibly positive way in which workers could spend more time with their families, save money on gas, and generally have more flexibility with their jobs. The media, again, worked its ass off to push that “ quiet quitting ” was leading to an epidemic of “ coasting on the job .” Meanwhile, corporations had been using supply chain crises and the specter of “inflation” to raise prices, though it became obvious that the real reason was sheer, unabated greed , posting record profits to soak up the cash from a frothy society excited to be back in the real world. By the end of 2022, the federal reserve would raise interest rates by a dramatic 4.25%, leading to tens of thousands of people losing their jobs . Prices would never, ever come down .  The system — by which I mean the conjoined forces of the media, the markets and the American government — focused on aggressively forcing everything back to where it used to be. When things were rough, it pumped money into the system. When things seemed too frothy, it made that money harder to come by.  For the most part, regular people were punished for the excesses of the system itself — when they took advantage of remote work, job flexibility and purchasing power, they were told they were lazy, that they were wrong, that this was temporary, and that in fact they were too greedy with what they were generously given .  The culture war around remote work framed itself as pro-worker, but really existed to help bosses avoid having to create things like “measurable productivity” or “ways of knowing what their workers do,” even as the actual people working knew they were working harder than ever, and were happy to do so.  Regular people’s reality went from exciting to grim within the space of two years. It was now much harder to get a job , all as everything seemed to only get more expensive, to quote myself : The continued perpetuation of “the system is always right” ultimately led to the media near-completely detaching from reality. A regular person experiencing aggressively-worsening standards in their own lives would open the news only to be sneered at for feeling bad, mocked for questioning the numbers, told to sit down and shut up because the media and those that inform it knew better. After two years of hope and abundance, the world — and the system itself — attempted to revert everyone back to the beforetimes, all without the veneer of “prosperity” or “progress.” In other words, a regular person’s form of “reality” was a confusing mess of social media, alternative media, mainstream media, and governments that seemed intent on saying that either everything was fine or that there was a specific thing to blame, usually either a foreigner of some sort or the listener or reader themselves. No attempts are levied at the system itself or the choices made by it or the way in which the media chooses to cover systemic movements, because to do so is considered either stupid (because it always works, right?) or hopeless (because it’s all so powerful). Meanwhile, in 2022, the largest tech companies in the world (Microsoft, Google, Meta, Amazon and NVIDIA) had hit a rough patch of flat-to-low growth after desperate measures had failed to help.  While both the media and world governments were adept at making moves to sustain systemic thinking — that the system or systems know best and must be protected (we must prop up banks, we must make sure we’re all in offices, etc.), big tech tried and failed twice to force society to back their concepts, the first being a VC-led attempt to make Clubhouse the next Facebook ( with the media attention to match it ), the second being the doomed attempt to make the Metaverse the next internet, with the media dutifully covering it as if it were real along with consultancies like McKinsey and Deloitte .  To be clear, there was never proof that the Metaverse was a real thing that anyone wanted, but because Facebook changed its name to Meta, the assumption was that the rich and powerful would not simply “do something for no reason.” It petered out because despite all the hype, there was very little to actually use, or invest in, or really do with it. Yet the most important detail is how everybody went on with their lives and ignored that Meta burned $77 billion on nothing , or that Microsoft (which bought Activision Blizzard under the auspices of the Metaverse) CEO Satya Nadella said he “could not overstate the breakthrough of the metaverse ” in 2021 and then effectively shut it all down by 2023. Nobody was fired for the fuckup. Nobody got in trouble. No media outlet apologized for being wrong. As regular people were fired thousands at a time, tech executives like Satya Nadella and Sundar Pichai received tens of millions of dollars a year. Everybody acted like nothing happened. Put another way, when regular people fuck up, they see themselves restricted and punished, fired, their credit ratings dropped, evicted from their houses, embarrassed in front of their friends and peers, and when corporations fuck up, the system accelerates to isolate them from damage, explain away their faults, congratulate them for trying, and then forcefully return “reality” to a point where everything they say is perfect. To quote John Ralston Saul’s Voltaire’s Bastards: Each time this happens, the systemic forces become more confident in their position, the media becomes more entrenched in the status quo, and both morality and success are increasingly redefined as ways of manipulating systems rather than being better or even good at anything. Everything becomes less about “doing the right thing” or “being correct,” and more a case of “moving within the system you live in so that you don’t get destroyed.”  People desperately want to see the AI bubble as either a systemic victory where venture capital has successfully ushered in a new status quo to worship or a systemic failure where the regular systemic factors — like bailouts and inevitable technological boom cycles — will immediately come into play.  As a result, they are willing supplicants for anything that signifies either version of the status quo — the signifiers of boom cycles (IE: “fast growth rates,” multi-billion dollar deals “from the biggest companies in the world) or post-collapse systemic recoveries (IE: “the underlying technology is good, all that dark fiber got used after the dot-com bubble, or there will be a government bailout). You know. It’ll work out fine. It’s just like the Dot Com Bubble, even if it isn’t . These companies are so big that they’re Too Big To Fail , even though we’re in a very different situation. OpenAI and Anthropic will grow to become the largest, most-profitable companies on Earth, even though they lose tens of billions of dollars a year , and can only “reach profitability” through financial engineering . The reason we repeat these cycles is that we never actually learn anything at the end of them. Nobody gets in trouble, nothing really changes about the system, and each following cycle is more horrifying and egregious than the last. Despite all of our discussions of the Dot Com Bubble, most people forget that it was a website bubble and a telecom bubble , followed a few months later in December 2001 ( nine months after Bethany McLean of Fortune pointed out many underlying issues ) by the collapse of Enron, the seventh-largest company in America, losing investors $75 billion and destroying the lives of thousands of employees unaware of the fraud.  A BBC report would talk about how “ Enron played the media ,” noting how it was called “a model for the new American workplace” for the New York Times, and named “America’s Most Innovative Company” by Fortune six years running as well as one of the 100 best companies to work for in America. While investment analyst John Olson said that Enron was “great at gaming the system…Wall Street…[and] the media,” the problem was far more obvious: nobody could explain how Enron makes money, and both analysts and the media were fine with it.  Per Fortune : Hilarious stuff Todd! I’m so glad your stupid ass was the credit analyst for Enron at S&P Global. This man is a fucking CPA , and when he couldn’t answer how Enron made money, he mostly shrugged his shoulders. Here’s another great story from Todd Shipman : It was, in the end, not something that was “really in the past.”  The collapse of Enron eventually led to the Sarbanes-Oxley Act in 2002, which made (necessary, positive) changes to financial regulations, including executive sign-off on financial reports and severe financial penalties for faking or changing financial records, along with prohibiting auditing firms from doing business with their clients.  The problem, however, was that Sarbanes-Oxley only sought to limit outright lies and direct, impossible-to-argue accounting fraud rather than attempts to manipulate stocks through altering public perception. It did not see a systemic issue with how companies used the media (and analysts) as a means of muddying the truth, because as long as companies don’t outright lie — half-truths are fine, by the way — nobody is doing anything wrong, and nothing needs to truly change.  You see, the actual problem with Enron was far beyond simply “lying about its financials.”  The media ecosystem had not only failed to see the danger coming, but actively helped exacerbate the damage it caused, all without a moment of introspection at the end. Their excitement about Enron was entirely based on how big its numbers were, even if there was little plausible explanation of how it made money , let alone how the numbers got that big.  In a New York Times piece on Enron from June 1999 — around two and a half years before its collapse — reporter Agis Salpukas accidentally proved my point: Pobody’s Nerfect!  In any case, there was no retraction, no apology, no “we fucked up,” no acknowledgment of anyone’s mistakes around Enron, much as there haven’t been around the Metaverse, or NFTs, or “inflation” that was actually just price-gouging. Modern journalism sees itself as truth-tellers, all as it operates within a self-fulfilling prophecy of helping inflate financial bubbles, only to simply forget they had any part of it, because, as I’ve discussed, the complexities of the real world — how people are misled, how companies will willingly lie and get away with it, how corporate America is based on growth-at-all-costs thinking, and how business and tech journalism increasingly exists, even in its most-critical state, to elevate systemically-approved ideas — are too difficult to reconcile with. Regular people are well-aware of the problem, which is why the growth of alternative media (and the ascent of demagoguery-fueled right wing media) has mostly taken the mainstream by surprise. Journalism does not see itself as part of the system (or systems) that maintain the status quo, nor does it see itself as a willing participant, or as a weapon used to twist the truth.  Yet journalism reports what’s put in front of it by the powerful, and finds whatever rationale it needs to. Enron technically had $100 billion in revenue in its final year. It didn’t really matter that nobody could explain what it did to make it , much like it didn’t really matter that Anthropic never defined what “ $65 billion run rate ” actually meant, because the number itself was only necessary to make everybody feel like it was all going to plan, and that the system worked. In the end, the thing that the systems we rely upon seem best at is winding themselves up into a frenzy at the behest of the richest people in the world, usually burning anywhere between tens of thousands and millions of people with the consequences.  The system moves to make sure it doesn’t “break,” which is a nice way to say that the powerful are insulated against the fallout, even if it means simply acting as if nothing actually happened. The problem — as we’re going to find out at the end of this era — is that everybody assumes that the system “returns to normal” at the end of each cycle, rather than those suffering from the consequences of its excesses accumulating scars and the system itself becoming increasingly burdened with obligations.  For example, the combined might of the Great Financial Crisis and COVID, along with an aging population and endless military budget, have let the US national debt grow to $40 trillion , both creating the problems we face today and leaving it with few options to fix them. This is not the same government that could once afford to pump trillions of dollars into any kind of bailout without running the very real risk of destabilizing the US dollar. Those who immediately jump to “too big to fail” are, once again, thinking of the system in simplistic, ahistorical terms, rather than as an accumulation of different times when the solution to problems was not systemic change but giving it more money to burn. The AI bubble is a direct result of a lack of financial regulation or accountability in the business or tech media for directly enriching and empowering financial bubbles and outright scam artists. Doing so is justified by saying that they’re “excited about innovation” or “cautiously optimistic,” or suggesting that blindly reporting whatever big number just got invested with little or no pushback is “being objective,” believing that a single paragraph showing some skepticism is anything other than covering your ass as you blow smoke up somebody else’s. This chaotic world of deteriorating products and a vacuum of responsibility means that regular people that rely on the media for reality receive a manufactured, distorted and outright harmful version of events, most of which are mediated by an editorial class that is desperate to impress the powerful and seem intelligent. The problem is that real life and mediated life are becoming increasingly-distanced from each other, and every major financial crisis — the 2008 Crisis, Enron, the Dot-Com Bubble, the AI Bubble, and so on — flows from a place where systems and their associated narratives attempting to simplify the world grow too large to control, and flow into real-life consequences.  Each time one happens, the system itself moves to absorb the damage, never letting it get too bad — by which I mean leading to social unrest — and making sure as few people are held responsible. To again quote Voltaire’s Bastards:  There are actually some pretty easy lessons to learn from every crisis: the media does not see itself as having a responsibility toward its readers nor any need to police itself, every financial crisis involves massive amounts of speculation that are both encouraged and applauded by the media, and both the financial system and the media work in concert to coerce and pressure the public into moving with the status quo. In the aftermath of a bubble, the media works to explain “what happened” in as vague or grandiose a way as possible, or to blame a very small handful of people , making the problem either way too big to fully comprehend or so specific that it can be handled with a few tweaks.  At no point does anybody actually have an idea of what a “better” or even “different” future looks like. Even the most devout AI boosters still describe the industry in the terms of the status quo. Even if OpenAI or Anthropic (in their minds) were to “destroy” an industry, that industry would still be one that was venture-funded and predominantly controlled by the hyperscalers. Critics must be framed as deranged or untrustworthy, because this is the only way that “progress” can look — growth-at-all-costs capitalism . What makes the AI bubble so remarkable is how precisely it targets the weaknesses in systemic thinking, which is oftentimes propped up not by real experiences or actual proof but signifiers of growth that relate in some way to eras of prosperity , all as a means of kicking the can of “when will anybody make any money?” or “how do these companies become profitable?” You see, the system is built to reinforce itself. The media is built to find things to pump and propagate narratives to reinforce eras of growth, and knows the right numbers that it needs to justify said propagation, much like it knows what shred of a product it needs to consider something “real.” Financial institutions crave ways to invest their capital, and know that their customers crave ways to exponentially increase their investments, ideally with a stable (yet high yield). Analysts are ready and waiting for a narrative to sell, and know that the easiest one is based on growth . I must also be clear that none of this thinking changes that actual money is changing hands — the entire semiconductor industry and venture capital world has had to effectively reconstruct itself around the world of AI, all based on the same signals.  It’s easy at this point to suggest that the system knew or planned for or anticipated AI in some way, that this is some sort of giant conspiracy they’d been waiting for.  Except the throughline of everything I’ve described is that nobody has a plan , and that an attachment to a simple idea — like endless growth — is what keeps these cycles repeating, because it’s always a case of something that’s too good to be true being, well, false. Every collapse is followed by discussions on how to change what we have to stop this specific thing from happening again , with little or no consideration of any other bad factors beyond those in front of us.   As a result, this is a system that is incredibly vulnerable to exactly how the AI bubble inflated, and is uniquely incapable of anticipating what might happen next. A year before the Attention Is All You Need paper begun the era of transformer-based models, Curtis described how the systems of society were aimed at “[not trying to] change things, but rather to manage a post-political world,” and exploiting how, to paraphrase science fiction writers Ardkady and Boris Strugatsky, how “...reality was just something that could be manipulated and shaped into anything you wanted it to be.” One particularly-grim version was the Reagan administration’s use of perception management, “...blurring of fact and fiction but it was part of an even broader program”: This is the world of public relations, but it’s so far removed from anything I (or most PR people) have ever done that it’s got more in common with outright propaganda distributed with the knowledge that the systems of journalism and financial analysis are ready and waiting to process and disseminate it. For modern tech and business journalism, a company is considered “real” based on how much chatter there is about it on Twitter, how much money it’s raised, and how many “smart” people are excited about it. There is almost no actual use of the product, and if there is, it’s at the most cursory, “making sure it exists,” or talking to customers who will almost always say “I love it!”  Most-importantly, however, tech and business journalism rarely comes to conclusions unless they are positive. If an AI lab loses billions of dollars, “there’s a chance its economics will improve in the future,” all without any discussion of what that means or how it might happen. By contrast, if a company says to TIME magazine that it is “80% of the way to AGI,” the article will take great pains to discuss what AGI could mean, when it might arrive, and indeed never push back on them saying so.  That’s because, while a seemingly-futuristic concept, the ideas of AGI and ASI (and that’s all they are) re-entrench the current system. They are terms defined by OpenAI and Anthropic, who are funded and have had their infrastructure purchased by hyperscalers that can derive revenue from the directionless tens of billions sunk into training it. They are pursued, funded, directed and upheld by the archons of the current system, and any whimsical language around “alignment” is a deliberate attempt to elevate software built and sold on terms set by the current system.  The entire AI bubble — every bit of hype — is an attempt to rebrand old things as new. This is the same system that was exploited to elevate actual scams like Clinkle, Theranos, and FTX, along with specious bubbles like NFTs and the metaverse. Large checks and excited-sounding technologists are taken as cast-iron proof that something that has not happened yet will definitively take place, giving every possible asterisk to make sure nobody can say it was wrong: Anyone reading this in TIME magazine would expect, wrongheadedly, that there was some sort of journalistic process that happened here, rather than just “yeah they said it, and they’re real smart and rich, and so I wrote it down.”  Similarly, when Anthropic hit $65 billion in “annualized run rate,” the number was printed without a second’s hesitation despite it being completely-undefined and indicative of nothing other than a snapshot of an indeterminately-long period multiplied by a number that we do not know. The intent of sharing this number — and yes, that counts if it was ‘leaked,’ because a real ‘leak’ would not be run rate — was entirely to market Anthropic as a “fast-growing company.” AI companies never share their actual revenues — $11.6 billion in Q2 2026 — or their underlying economics, and reporters have been so systemically-sedated that they believe that using a marketing number is reporting. To be clear, there are ethical ways of discussing annualized run rates, and they start with saying that these numbers are a marketing technique. Sadly, these numbers are reported as if they’re as valid as real revenues, and have increasingly become a proof point of AI’s remarkable ascent.  In reality, they exist to obfuscate the depressing states of the average AI company. The Information reported that Cognition had “generated around $900 million in annualized revenue, or $75 million a month,” all while expecting to lose around $800 million in the year, burning $200 million in Q2 2026 alone. For whatever reason, The Information also added an anonymous source saying that “...excluding the costs of Cognition’s development of its own coding models it would be close to breaking even, in terms of free cash flow.”  Run rate is a deceptive term because it’s also a moment in time , and it’s even more deceptive when the company in question sells API access to models rather than subscriptions, because one cannot “annualize” a number that fluctuates like a customer’s token burn. One might also be fooled into thinking Cognition’s revenue would be $75 million a month , rather than a particular period of time suggesting that is what it makes.   The point I’m making is that even in seemingly-critical pieces, punches are pulled and information is reorganized as a means of abiding by the system’s rules. Cognition has raised over $2.1 billion in funding at an astonishing valuation of $26 billion , yet its business loses hundreds of millions of dollars and necessitates burning billions more… for a chance to make less revenue than Duolingo , a company with a market capitalization of a little under $7 billion that also doesn’t lose that much money. There is nothing rational about valuing Cognition at $26 billion, let alone the $40 billion one it’s allegedly raising at right now . Devin is not mentioned on Ramp’s AI index , nor have I ever met anyone who has ever used it. Its entire valuation appears to be from a small subset of customers, a few partnership announcements ( like a pilot with Goldman Sachs that I can find very little information about ), and articles from the tech press about Cognition that mostly say “it does AI coding stuff.”  I have no specific beef with Cognition, because the same can be said of Perplexity, Higgsfield, Harvey, or any number of other AI companies with triple-digit “annualized run rates” with double-digit billion valuations for businesses with questionable business models.  Yet the tech media simply does not care, because — despite being directly used for perception management and marketing — they would argue that this is “reporting company financials objectively.” Having paragraph after paragraph effectively saying “these are growing businesses working in the business world, and they have big valuations, and wow, they are growing so fast” is objective reporting. It would be subjective, in their eyes, to cast doubt or skepticism over these valuations , because it would be “unfair” or “without the complete knowledge of their finances.”  This is obviously wrong. Cognition is “worth” $26 billion because it sold stock to Lux Capital, General Catalyst, and 8VC at that valuation. It is correct to say that investors value it at $26 billion, but casting any judgment about whether that’s sensible is considered “opinion journalism,” even though doing so would be arguably more valuable to the reader, and allow them to make better decisions.  I realize the alternative is a little challenging, and involves both A) skepticism of venture-backed companies and B) a fundamentally more-thoughtful and better-informed approach involving actual financial analysis.  To be clear, part of the logic of trusting these valuations is that these venture capitalists are “good with their money,” but the direct opposite is true. Per Bloomberg , Thrive’s 2022 growth-stage fund has returned 30 cents for every dollar invested, which puts it — I shit you not! — in the top five percent of funds, and per Pitchbook , the median TVPI (total value put in, so how many dollars you get back per dollar invested) of venture capital vintages between 2017 and 2024 sits somewhere between 0.92x and 1.23x, lagging the S&P 500 (about 280% over that period if you reinvested dividends). Nevertheless, the assumption is that venture capital only hits dingers , because making the alternative assumption would require a complete revaluation of the system of tech journalism, which is why it didn’t happen after Theranos, NFTs, the metaverse, the Dot-Com Bubble, or any other era where venture capital failed.  The exact same thing happened in the aftermath of the Great Financial Crisis. One would think that a business and finance media would effectively go to war with an industry that had, wall-to-wall, taken risks so significant that eight million or more people lost their jobs and the economy was thrown into despair.  Instead, the media remains buddy-buddy with those who have misled it before, helping to mislead millions more people as a result, because they do not believe that active suspicion of an industry is a worthy place to start investigating it.  The overall point I’m making is that the “proof” behind what makes a particular tech phenomena “real” is fungible to a fatal end, and said proof can simply be “somebody sunk a bunch of money into it.”  While many people come up with many rationalizations as to how the AI bubble has grown so big, and why so much money has gone into data centers, it’s actually pretty simple: venture capitalists invested a lot of money, everybody saw how much money hyperscalers were investing, and everybody assumed that both were doing so for a good reason.  When NVIDIA’s stock soared, despite the revenues mostly coming from a handful of companies, everybody simply assumed that the AI data center buildout at large was different somehow, and that these were “the richest companies in the world” and wouldn’t make such a big mistake. Thanks to the media assuming — based on effectively nothing outside of a few demos and a few billion in venture capital — that AI was the next big thing, it created a self-fulfilling cycle of hype where every little tidbit was taken as proof that some vague prophecy was true. I’ll give you an example. Last week, Jensen Huang quoted Gavin Baker ( who was fired from Fidelity for sexual harassment ) with a screed about AI that doesn’t really make sense when you break down each point: This is all an attempt to change the perception of data centers without ever dealing with the underlying arguments against them, all wrapped in the fuzzy layers of status quo-adjacent “progress.” This post will be quoted as “proof” of the “good things that AI data centers do,” laundered through journalists and analysts that say “well look, it creates jobs, all throughout the economy, and if you don’t believe me, check NVIDIA’s earnings!” It’s also part of a years-long tradition of the AI industry muddying the truth about AI data centers, pushing back against anyone who disagrees and claiming that they’re either a Chinese psyop, misinformed, or “hate technological progress.”  Let me simplify the AI data center argument: There is nothing ‘anti-progress’ about opposing AI data centers, and nobody has a compelling explanation as to why we need more of them. Every article about building them automatically assumes this is a necessary buildout because lots of money has gone into them, but nobody can seem to explain why other than “there’s so much demand for AI services ( which is not actually true when you remove OpenAI and Anthropic ).”  In fact, I think it’s fair to question whether there’s real — by which I mean not manufactured — demand for NVIDIA GPUs, per last premium : While the money is absolutely real, it’s dependent on both the continued value of investing in AI data centers — which is an open question — and the ability for these three to five customers to be able to keep raising tens of billions of dollars whenever they need to. And really, let’s talk about the why for a second. Google, Amazon and Microsoft are currently spending hundreds of billions of dollars on capex to, for the most part, pull in around $440 billion in revenue in the next three years from Anthropic and OpenAI , as they represent more than 70% of their AI revenues in the next three years , and more than 48% of Google Cloud’s 2027 revenue .  Otherwise, there is little tangible financial incentive to continue doing so, other than for perception management. These three companies cannot stop spending money on AI capex, as the second they stop, investors will (reasonably) ask why they spent all that money, and what they got in return. Investing money in capex has allowed all three of them (and Meta, for that matter) to avoid ever having to disclose their actual AI revenues, because all the proof anyone needed was that they were spending $30 billion to $50 billion a quarter for a reason. The same goes for Oracle, which needs to keep spending to build out the capacity to make the $300 billion it’s owed from its five-year-long deal with OpenAI , though it, like Google, Microsoft and Amazon, is largely-dependent on whether these two companies can continue to raise a hundred billion dollars or more every year. As I’ve hinted at, Meta is in the same boat, except far worse, because it doesn’t really have an AI business. Yet because the system is built upon simplistic ideals like “investing lots of money then making lots of money” — even if these ideals are not remotely true — it is ready and willing to accept these narratives as long as revenues keep growing, even if said revenues are nothing to do with AI. The same goes for the indeterminately-large amount of AI data centers being built. We still, to this day, have no real clear understanding of whether it’s profitable to run any kind of AI service or even to rent out AI GPUs, but because so much money has been invested , everybody assumes it’s the right idea to do so. Yet because the system and the media are easily pleased , CoreWeave is used as proof that AI data centers are a great idea… as it loses $646 million in a single quarter , because its revenue grew 112% year-over-year… even though its customer base is NVIDIA, OpenAI, Microsoft (for OpenAI), Google ( for OpenAI ), Anthropic, and Meta.  CoreWeave — like NVIDIA and the rest of the AI industry — is aware that the system craves signifiers and narratives tied to plausible-seeming numbers far more than it covets stable, diverse business. The fact it’s raised $24 billion in debt and loses hundreds of millions of dollars a quarter servicing it is, in fact, a good thing, because it’s a sign that the financial markets believe in its growth story , which is in and of itself deeply worrying. I challenge you, the reader, to reframe your understanding of contracts and investments from a strictly financial one to one of perception. OpenAI and Anthropic signing contracts with neoclouds like CoreWeave and Nscale for data center capacity that will take years to build is as much about creating the appearance of growth and stability — even as they depend on inherently-unstable companies — as it is “buying compute.”  The same goes for NVIDIA’s investments in Poolside, Mediatek, IREN, Nebius, and, of course, CoreWeave . While these companies absolutely needed the money, NVIDIA also needs to create the perception that these are real businesses that have real customers , and the easiest way to do that is to use its balance-sheet-as-a-service system. Bankers and the media, incapable of thinking outside of the system itself, only see a “large company with healthy credit investing billions of dollars” without ever thinking about why or what the purpose is or why all of them needed billions of dollars , coming up with the rationalizations for NVIDIA because not coming up with them would challenge the system itself. This is the same logic that had S&P Global revise CoreWeave’s outlook to “positive” back in April , despite it only “making progress” on material weaknesses in its accounting, because its “deepening relationship with NVIDIA [would] aid its growth trajectory,” the kind of thing you can only believe if you believe the entire system is working great and nothing is wrong.  CoreWeave is a bad company that only exists because of the simple, systemic belief that If The Right Numbers Are Going Up, Everything Is Fine.  I must repeat again that none of this is a conspiracy so much as it is a large-scale attack from multiple fronts on the weakest points of the system, and the power of thought processes incapable of seeing when something is horribly broken.  If you, right now, ask most people if AI is “changing the world,” they’ll respond with an emphatic yes, and in most cases won’t have much of an answer beyond “coding” and however many weekly active users OpenAI has. Perhaps they’ll respond with an anecdote about knowing someone who uses Claude for some stuff, or mention that Anthropic had “$65 billion in annual revenue.” They’ll perhaps point to NVIDIA’s earnings, or perhaps even Microsoft, Google and Amazon’s profits, saying that three companies that do not disclose their AI revenues are “growing thanks to AI.” If you ask them why AI data centers are being built, they’ll say there’s “crazy demand for AI,” again without really having a frame of reference beyond a vague mention in an article with no citation.  The reason they believe most of these things are spuriously-sourced or defined statements in a media industry incapable of thinking of seeing systemic failures or mistakes, despite history being littered with them again and again, many of them written about by the very same people. When challenged, they will return to systemic rhetoric — stuff costs lots of money before it makes a lot of money , [company] is the fastest-growing in history, there’s hundreds of billions of dollars on the line, these are some of the smartest people in the world, these are some of the richest companies in the world, and so on and so forth. Everything, even often in critical pieces, comes back to statements that reinforce the status quo, like “AI is, of course, transformative,” or “bubbles always form and leave value afterward,” even though that’s not really true at all when you look at history, and certainly isn’t true of this particular era. The problem isn’t just “oh, we need to be more skeptical of these companies,” but that even in that skepticism we reinforce their position. Anyone writing an “are we in an AI bubble?” piece feels it’s necessary to remind the audience that they are not, under any circumstances, criticizing AI itself or doubting its innovations, even as they struggle to define what those innovations are. That’s because AI is, much like the AI bubble, one of the perfected forms of hypernormalization, demanding so much money, attention and make believe that it forces even the cynics to live in fear of reprisal.  I get a lot of flak for not being excited about LLMs, but if I’m honest, I’m not sure the vast majority of reporters or analysts or media personalities are actually excited by the technology so much as they are the sheer amount of pressure and money focused on it. They will rationalize LLMs doing a mediocre-yet-plausible attempt at something — usually generating text or code — faster than a human being could as “impressive” because “they couldn’t do it that fast,” not really considering whether impressive translates to useful or productive or even particularly interesting.  The thing is, LLMs have improved in the last year, just not in a way that’s tremendously impressive to me given the amount of capital invested, or in a way that has manifested in a tangible product that can be described in a sentence. I’m sure there are automations that people have made with this stuff that help them — good for you! — but it will take a lot more than that to justify a trillion-plus dollars in investment or endless fucking prattling about how impressive and world-changing AI is.  The fact that everything I write has to have some sort of caveat about “how far LLMs have come” is more proof of the brittle, simplistic and childish nature of the system itself. It is not enough for the AI industry to get trillions of dollars, constant media attention, endless coddling, endless defenses of its technology and expenditures, government support, and near-infinite resources. Every single detractor must have “sufficient AI use,” and “concede” when AI has “gotten better,” as if AI or the AI industry is a living organism that must be appeased, and one’s “correctness” on AI is a moral calling.  But the hypernormalized world of AI has turned it into something more. One’s ability to both “get value” from AI and sufficiently explain why it’s exciting gets you invited into all manner of weird little cliques, as does preparing sufficient data to prove how much money literally anyone who builds anything related to AI will make. This is framed as “being on the frontier,” mobilizing thousands of “free thinkers” to defend the global venture capital, AI infrastructure and AI software industries, along the market itself. All of this is sold as living and investing in the future as it polices the world’s information in favor of the status quo.  Remember: we are talking about software sold by some of the richest people in the world, powered by data centers that cost tens of billions of dollars funded by some of the other richest people in the world.  Vigorously critiquing and pushing back on the narratives of the powerful is an actual moral cause, and I can think of little more revolting than squealing about how I’m insufficiently deferential to or unwilling to fill in the gaps in their marketing hype.  And god, spare me from any whining about “being unfair” to an industry that has literally every single thing going in its favor. LLMs — and the communities around them — are also leading to the problematic expansion of further alternate realities. As a technology built to respond with what is most likely to be the desired output, they tell every user their every idea is genius, promise to help out with just about anything (even if they’re incapable of doing so), and are capable of making you feel really productive as you endlessly prompt an ever-growing system ( like a Wiki of your work ) that creates the appearance of productivity and “software design” without producing very much value.   These communities also exist as a kind of systemic response that combines with another systemic element — the mythology of the “great founder” created by Steve Jobs’ tenure at Apple. Believing in the tech industry is now conflated with believing in whatever the tech industry demands , which in turn means protecting both the AI companies and the technology itself , obsessively using and defending it and taking whatever shreds of proof of a grander prophecy of “success” they can find. They see themselves as independent thinkers, but their entire existence is dedicated to protecting the valuations of massive corporations run by multi-billionaires, all as they praise the godlike ideal of ‘founders,’ hoping that in doing so they too will be elevated.  The problem in all of these cases is that AI has become almost entirely focused on perception management as a means of avoiding dealing with the most-obvious systemic problem: that none of the investment really makes sense.  Anthropic signing a $35 billion cloud compute deal with an NVIDIA-backed neocloud Lambda will immediately be used as proof that the company is “here to stay,” and that Lambda “has huge customers and a giant backlog,” even though in reality it shows that there wasn’t anyone else willing or capable of signing a deal that large, nor was there enough diverse demand. The fact that the deal involves Hut8 ( which is also allegedly building other data centers for Anthropic ) will be seen as proof that Hut8 is “growing fast” and “has a huge backlog,” even though it really shows that Hut8 is entirely dependent on Anthropic’s ability to pay it, and its ability to build AI data centers.  Let’s be clear: Lambda’s largest customers are NVIDIA (who also invested), Microsoft and Amazon. Anthropic is such an unstable customer that the lease isn’t even in its name , with NVIDIA taking it on, which is, to quote the Wall Street Journal, “another example of Nvidia’s growing role in helping non-investment-grade firms such as Anthropic get access to its expensive computing resources,” rather than “a sign that the largest companies — and effectively the only ones buying AI compute — cannot afford to do so.”  Within the makebelieve of the system, this all makes sense. NVIDIA is using its balance sheet to sign a lease for one of its largest customers by proxy (Anthropic) to rent capacity from Lambda (which NVIDIA rents capacity from and invested in), all so that, I assume, Lambda can raise debt to buy NVIDIA GPUs. Banks will back these loans and give them the big thumbs up, because Big Company Have Money Now, And Number Go Up.  This is all perfectly rational, because thinking it’s irrational means that nothing makes sense. NVIDIA, the largest company on the stock market, has most of its revenue coming in from a handful of companies, most of which are buying its GPUs not because of a return on invested capital, but because buying them allows them to create activity and potentially pull in revenue from two other companies — Anthropic and OpenAI. Neither of these companies can actually afford this compute, but that doesn’t matter, because this data center won’t actually exist for years, if it ever does. In fact, every time you read about some multi-billion dollar data center deal, know that it won’t be built for years, but NVIDIA will likely book the revenue immediately, because all it has to do is help raise the debt for the banks to send the money and the GPUs to be sold. Because the system only ever lives a quarter or two in the future — even when considering stuff years ahead — it assumes that because Anthropic and OpenAI are solvent today that they will absolutely be able to pay in the future. The irrationality comes from how unstable all of this is. NVIDIA’s future growth — which is one of the load-bearing perceptual elements of the AI bubble — is entirely dependent on whether large companies both want to and are able to spend hundreds of billions of dollars, and their intent to do so is largely based on whether two companies (Anthropic and OpenAI) can spend more than $400 billion on compute in the next few years.  In other words, what everybody sees as inarguable proof of the dramatic ascent of NVIDIA is really based on its ability to collude with Microsoft, Google, Amazon, Meta, SpaceX, Oracle, OpenAI, and Anthropic, because when you remove their spend, most of which is subsidized through venture capital and endless debt, there’s very little real money in the system, because nobody is making a profit from AI other than Jensen Huang and the data center developers. AI GPUs are, outside of rentals to Anthropic and OpenAI, generating very little economic value, and there are few signs that they will do so in the future outside of anecdotes and copium. Our reality — and the entire “AI boom” — is largely constructed through a patchwork of deals between these companies, moving money around and signing paper as a means of stopping you thinking too hard about what’s going on. And because all of these data centers are perpetually 18-to-36 months away , the actual payoff is so far in the future that the excuse is always “it’s under construction” or “it’s early.” Hyperscalers and NVIDIA have used their massive amounts of capital and a tech and business media incapable of seeing any other reality but the one created for them to inflate a dangerous, unstable and destructive bubble, using every possible rhetorical trick to play into the desperation that most have for a simple, easy explanation to what’s going on. And the ultimate problem is that defined by hypernormalization itself — that we all want things to work out as they always have, based on our own experiences, even if said experiences and what’s actually happening run contrary to the beliefs we’ve built as a result. We want governments to have a plan, we want hundreds of billions of dollars to be invested with intention, we want the media to cover things clearly and with a duty to protect the reader rather than the subject, and will struggle and strive and scream at those who suggest otherwise, because thinking otherwise is so utterly upsetting. When this ends, so many people will ask how it happened, why nobody stopped it, and try and rationalize it within the systems they know. They’ll crave a bailout, even if they hate the companies, because the destruction of allowing things to wilt and die is so unusual within our society, and it’s scary to imagine them doing so.  We want a neat, easy explanation for the complexities of our world, and one of the larger problems of the AI bubble is that it’s largely catered to that need on every level.  LLMs create outputs based on a summary of past data, passing that off as “intelligence” in a way that coddles the user. AI data centers are a neat, seemingly risk-free fairy tale of being able to invest in the “new industrial revolution,” providing high-yield investment opportunities to those who don’t think much about externalities as long as somebody can tell them what they want to hear. AI startups are a simple way to invest in an amorphous “future” where the product isn’t so much whatever the person is selling but what AI does when plugged into something else, with the burden of innovation mostly being on the model developers themselves. Being an “AI expert” or “covering AI” gives you the appearance of agitation or “reporting,” but mostly simmers down to catching the thousands of different funding or product or personnel announcements manufactured to inflate the bubble.  Even the AI industry, which claims to be building the future, lives in this land of makebelieve, thinking it can create something new through endlessly feeding a neural network examples of what’s already happened.  Much of this isn’t even cynical, but is a product of believing in the systems and powers that be to make logical, rational decisions, rather than being guided by simplistic ideals like creating more growth at any cost , and thinking that because a number keeps going up, it’ll never go down, ignoring anything that would convince you otherwise.  Instead of having to deal with the very real problems that we’re at the end of hypergrowth and the decades-long massive returns of venture capital and reconciling with what’s increasingly looking like hundreds of billions of misallocated capital, everybody chooses to live in whatever reality makes them the least-anxious or most-excited.  They hope that somebody else will deal with the problem and that the system, which regularly mistreats, misleads and fails them, will prevail, as it always has.  Meanwhile , AI does not appear to have produced any pay off in productivity at a national scale.   Somewhere, somebody is writing that this is “just like the Dot-Com Bubble,” and that everything will be fine. If you liked this piece, you should subscribe to my premium newsletter. It’s $70 a year , $18 a quarter , or $7 a month , and in return you get a weekly newsletter that’s usually anywhere from 10,000 to 18,000 words and provides vast, detailed analyses of the biggest events and companies in the AI bubble. If you want to get in touch — and especially if you have any juicy information about Anthropic, OpenAI, or any other companies in the AI bubble — hit me up on Signal at ezitron.76. I’m also on IB on The Terminal. AI is bringing manufacturing back to America and reindustrializing the nation after decades of offshoring. …is it? What’re we talking about here, exactly? TSMC was already building its Arizona factory before the AI bubble , as was Micron’s . Are we talking about…data centers?  AI is creating demand that drives investment in our aging power grid and sustainable energy, powered by market forces, not subsidies. It’s X, not Y! This is technically true, but suggests that the investment in local power grids for AI is somehow to the betterment of the local grid, as opposed to what it’s actually doing — straining it . In the event that a data center company decides not to finish building the power associated with a campus, the taxpayer is often the one left paying the bill to finish the work, which is why the Wisconsin power commission demanded a $7 billion bond for Oracle to build its Port Washington data center. AI is creating construction and manufacturing jobs across energy plants, chip fabs and data centers. Data center construction requires thousands of specialist workers, with the vast majority of them flown in from out of state .  When finished, a data center creates roughly 100 to 200 jobs , or less than a large Walmart for something that brings little or no economic value. If we’re including “energy plants and chip fabs,” that’s basically expanding to “literally anyone who works on chips or in a power plant that sends power anywhere.” AI is creating new companies and industries. $400 billion has been invested in AI startups in the past six months alone. Two statements in one here! The first one is hilariously vague — yes, it created new companies (AI companies) and industries (companies to serve AI companies). $217 billion of that $400 billion went into OpenAI and Anthropic, $20 billion went to xAI and $16 billion went to Waymo , with NVIDIA investing over $40 billion itself. I’m still not sure what this was meant to communicate other than investor fluff. As for the industries it’s created, it’s unclear. Even if we were being generous to describe the companies that exist to throw a layer over an existing AI model, those “industries” employ a negligible amount of people.  Builders must partner with communities to build in their hometowns, earn trust and create local benefits. [Vaguely] uhhh, yeah do some stuff. Environmental Factors:  It does not matter that Karen Hao made a mistake about how much water AI data centers use, because data centers that use evaporative cooling are using dramatic amounts of water . Those using closed-loop systems don’t appear to use that much water. Every single person getting mad at the “misinformation” here should also be mad about the massive overpromises of the AI industry in general, and also my next point, which nobody seems to want to talk about. None of this matters, because basically every AI data center I’ve seen uses behind-the-meter gas turbines that are an environmental disaster .  Overall Problems If you’re wondering why everyone is mad at data centers, it’s because they’re these giant, ultra-expensive, ominous-looking monoliths that are extremely noisy both when under construction and when fully built, and are explicitly on the forefront of an industry that has used the media to spread a story about taking everybody’s jobs. AI data centers are nothing to do with the previous era’s data centers. I went over this last week . Nobody is mad at the data centers for streaming video. AI data centers are for nothing other than AI.

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Premium: The Hater's Guide To Circular Financing (Part One)

[NVIDIA Company Meeting, the present day, YMCA playing] JENSEN HUANG : We love NVIDIA, don’t we folks? We’re the biggest, most-beautiful semiconductor company, we make the biggest, hottest GPUs for Clammy Sammy and Wario Amodei ’s huge, beautiful AI labs, but they can’t afford them because they’re losing so much money! [crowd booing] It’s okay! It’s okay! Big strong men, the biggest muscles, big, beautiful, strong men like Satya Nadella are calling me, begging — they’re begging, can you believe it? — they’re begging me, “Sir, Sir, please ship me Vera Rubin sir! I can’t get enough!” [crowd braying] they can’t get enough of Vera Rubin! They’re begging me to get Vera over there! Vera! Where’s Vera! [scanning crowd] get her up here! No, no, don’t do it, she’s too shy! We love Grace too, [voice turning gravely] Grace Blackwell , what a gal! I told them all we’re going to ship a trillion dollars of Grace Blackwell and Vera Rubin by the end of 2027 , our beautiful girls Grace and Vera , they’re our biggest and most-expensive girls yet, our Gee-Pee-Yous , the media says “we don’t believe you sir!” but I’m gonna make everyone buy ‘em, hell I’m gonna give ‘em the money to do it like I did with CoreWeave and then I’m gonna tell  Clammy Sammy and say “Samuel, give ‘em a few billion like you gave to Michael Intrator ,” and he’ll say “yes sir!”  Now, people are saying to me — “Sir! Sir! Your customers can’t afford your semiconductors! Sir, they’re too expensive!” and I say they’re not expensive enough! We’re gonna charge ‘em 17% more! [crowd braying] Should we up the price? Should we do it? We’re gonna do it!  In my mind, this is how Jensen Huang speaks to his workers, more than 70% of whom are millionaires as a result of NVIDIA’s remarkable stock growth, and from what I’m told by insiders, there’s a near-manic attention paid to stock movements as a result. I imagine working there must feel a little insane. Assuming you arrived before the stock went parabolic in 2024, you’ve seen your RSUs explode 10x in the space of a few years, all based on the back of everybody talking about how big and huge AI is… … all as it becomes blatantly obvious that NVIDIA’s biggest customers are, for the most part, funded by NVIDIA . While NVIDIA still ostensibly sells things other than AI GPUs (like autonomous cars , laptop graphics cards, and simulation technology for robotics ), more than 90% of its revenue comes from data center hardware. As a result, the company has become almost-entirely valued on whether or not it can continually come up with rationalizations for its largest customers to spunk tens of billions of dollars a quarter.  Why else would NVIDIA invest even an iota of effort into making an NVIDIA-branded Openclaw or build a platform for LLMs to do “agentic” things , or give $6 billion to Poolside (while investing another $1 billion) and hire away most of its staff? Why else would it plan to invest billions of dollars in Perplexity at a $30 billion valuation that lands somewhere between “fucking stupid” and “laughable”?  Sorry, I’m being a little vague. Everything NVIDIA has done for the last three years has existed to do two things: NVIDIA has succeeded in doing the first primarily by selling these GPUs to hyperscalers like Amazon, Google, Microsoft, Oracle, and Meta, who make up somewhere between 50% and 60% of its GPU sales depending on which analyst you ask.  The rest comes from a mixture of unnamed “sovereign AI customers” and “neoclouds” — companies that exist to raise debt, buy NVIDIA GPUs, and put them in data centers to rent to theoretical AI customers. Per Vivek Arya of Bank of America (at the BoFA Global Technology Conference in June), sales to “neocloud/sovereign/on-premise” were about the same as those to hyperscalers, and while it’s tempting to dither here and say “there could be large sovereign buildouts!” I can’t find compelling evidence that these actually exist outside of a theoretical 75 billion Euro investment in AI infrastructure in France by SoftBank , which doesn’t have that much money to spend. In any case, NVIDIA’s entire strategy has become a case of either convincing the largest companies in the world to give Jensen Huang $100 billion a year or artificially inflating its revenues through circular financing, which is obviously what I’m talking about today. This is the first part of my Hater’s Guide To Circular Financing, a comprehensive analysis of the current state of NVIDIA’s massive circular financing operation, why it has yet to break, its limitations, and the material concerns that were raised in its latest quarterly earnings. The second part, coming next week, will cover the history of circular financing, where we’ve seen it before, and what we can learn from its horrible past. Create sales for its AI GPUs and associated hardware. Create demand for AI compute for its customers.

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The AI Hater's Manifesto

If you liked this piece, you should subscribe to my premium newsletter. It’s $70 a year , $18 a quarter , or $7 a month , and in return you get a weekly newsletter that’s usually anywhere from 10,000 to 18,000 words, including vast, detailed analyses of NVIDIA , Anthropic and OpenAI’s finances , and the AI bubble writ large .  My Hater's Guides To the SaaSpocalypse , Private Credit and Private Equity are essential to understanding our current financial system, and my guide to how OpenAI Kills Oracle pairs nicely with my Hater's Guide To Oracle, as well as the Hater’s Guide To Oracle (Part 2). Subscribing to premium is both great value and makes it possible to write these large, deeply-researched free pieces every week. This week's premium will be The Hater's Guide To Circular Financing - and how the AI industry is increasingly turning into a scheme to funnel money to NVIDIA and Broadcom at any cost.  If you want to get in touch — and especially if you have any juicy information about Anthropic, OpenAI, or any other companies in the AI bubble — hit me up on Signal at ezitron.76. I’m also on IB on The Terminal.  I’ve been writing about AI for the best part of three years. I’ll admit I was late, mostly because I was still trying to work out what it was I was doing with my life, let alone whatever it was I was “meant to cover” in a newsletter that started as a hobby on the side of another job I no longer really do.  Things have changed a lot since then, mostly in that I’m near 115,000 subscribers, the premium newsletter and podcast are now my business, and I’ve had to learn more about economics, technology, power, construction, and the deep cynicism that drives the modern tech industry than I ever thought possible. It’s the greatest job in the world, and I’m very lucky to have it. Today, I want to put in clear terms how I feel about AI writ large, and how detestable this industry has become. Welcome to my Hater’s Manifesto. Want a great example of why everybody’s pissed off at technology? I just tried to resize the above heading, and in doing so Google Docs for no apparent reason decided to make the entire paragraph below the size of a header. Modern software is inherently broken, a convoluted mess of different menus, tech debt, and poor design choices driven by the Rot Economy ’s growth-at-all-costs mindset which demands constant change at all times, none of which ever seems to manifest as a “better” or “smarter” product. I think the vast majority of people want their software to work better, and one of AI’s most frustrating lies is that it sells itself as “autonomous” as it continues the depressing trend of software that blames the user for its failure to meet their needs. Microsoft, Google, Meta and Amazon have made their products increasingly-convoluted, then attached a supposedly-magical tool to them that somehow makes them more convoluted. You know what I’d love? Spell-check to work in Google Docs rather than putting a red squiggly line underneath and saying “yeah there’s probably something wrong with this, I dunno what though.” I’d like Microsoft Word to stop crashing because I have too many end-notes. I’d like Riverside to not have 10 different menus to click through to get to a link to send a person to join my podcast. I’d like my email to not be full of spam. I’d like things to “just work” rather than constantly fighting some sort of broken app or broken UX element or weird bug or intrusive pop-up about a feature that I don’t want. I’d like Slack or Discord to not feel like digital escher paintings of different notifications.  LLMs are sold as some sort of magic tool that can fix “anything” without ever specifying what that thing might be, mostly because they cannot be trusted, even in things that they mostly get right , to do things right every time. While they can do “more” than they used to, the extent of that “more” comes with it the danger of giving a mindless software tool access to your computer’s files, which it may choose to delete in pursuit of “efficiency,” which makes investigating what they might be able to do equal parts convoluted and dangerous. One critique of my work is that I’ve never used LLMs. I have! I experiment with them from time to time to make sure I haven’t missed something. I used one to debug a problem with my son’s Minecraft add-on the other day, and it took 30 minutes of fucking around trying things to eventually sort of work it out. The other day I used one to install a Pokemon Minecraft mod, then when I asked it to make sure the PS5 controller worked with the menus it broke a bunch of stuff, though I’ll concede it was useful that it installed something and it sort of worked. The fun part of that paragraph is there are some that will think this is a grand victory for their technology, even though the result is decidedly mediocre. Four years into the AI bubble, and the best you’ve got is that a tool kind of worked after I bonked it on the head multiple times , and all it cost was a trillion-plus dollars in capex and tens of billions of dollars of training compute. I would never, ever trust this thing that deleted and added lines of code at random with anything mission critical, I could not trust software built with it, and I certainly couldn’t trust it with anything involving my personal data.  And with all that said, the only real “use case” i’ve found for AI in my life have been three or four times where I’ve dumped a crash log into one of the tools and said “why broken” and got a result. Am I meant to be impressed?  Here’s how I feel about LLMs. In a vacuum, they’re an interesting technology that can do some interesting stuff, in the right scenarios, but never in a way that involves you fully surrendering your actual work product to it.  As a way of speeding up small units of work in ways that are manageable both technically and cognitively, LLMs can be useful. The further you stretch yourself away from having complete clarity and industry over every element of the output’s purpose, the more likely you are to fall foul to a technology that is mathematically certain to make mistakes, and if you feel insecure reading it, you know that you are, on some level, embarrassed to have used AI.  I don’t tell everybody about the weird keyboard I use, nor do I judge them despite how incredibly fast it makes typing for me, likely far faster than my competition, allowing me to operate at great speed. Who gives a fuck?  In any case, it is impossible to view LLMs in a vacuum, because their existence demands hundreds of billions of dollars. Every data center is incredibly expensive, offensive-sounding and looking, and their existence is explicitly to enrich some sort of Patagonia-gargoyle at an asset management firm, all sold under the auspices of “investing in American infrastructure,” whatever the fuck that means. Their existence is a monument to the worst excesses of growth-at-all-costs capitalism — a technology that appears to coddle the user but ultimately lulls it into endlessly defending its fuckups under the flimsy pretense of “one day becoming perfect,” though woe betide you if you ever set perfection as the target, because that’s too unreasonable, as humans make mistakes. Actually, that’s a good point! Please, point to the time in history when we have invested a trillion fucking dollars in making human workers better.  Point to a time when we have taken the idea that managerial culture is a performative fuck-fest built to enrich and empower business idiots that make important-sounding projects and con other people into doing the actual work.  Where is mentorship in corporate America? Where are labor standards? Where are the social services that would make human workers truly excel at their jobs — a good night’s sleep, a healthy body, a good income, basic fucking dignity in the workplace, and their labor respected and empowered. I’m old enough to remember when everybody was chiding workers for “ quiet quitting ” — by which I mean “doing the work you are asked to do and not taking on extra responsibility for free.” I’ve read article after article insisting that we do not need medicare for all, that Universal Basic Income is a bad idea, that we must means test welfare, that people must have a “good work ethic” and that ultimately someone’s worth is derived from their contribution to the economy, hundreds of thousands of words dedicated to critiquing and prodding and judging every kind of worker other than the vaunted Chief Executive Officer or the Glorious Startup Boys.  Everyone seems so obsessed with sinking billions of dollars into the theoretical chance that machine learning might be able to replace human beings, and that more money makes it “smarter” and “better” at tasks, but the idea of unionization, healthcare as a right, investing in the education, and actual talents of the workers would be communism . Yet for some reason — because it’s a product, I guess? — we should as a nation, society and media ecosystem should do everything we can to assure that as much money as possible is invested in fucking large language models so that they can become something they are not. There is no AGI coming. There is no conscious computer. LLMs have gotten “better,” but the “better” is not the kind of “better” that actually makes “economic sense for literally anyone involved.” Your best case scenario is that these things can do some coding work for you, in a controlled manner, in a way that’s safe, or alternatively face the professional harm that’s already befalling basically anyone getting caught using LLMs outside of coding, and even then, those within software engineering who are over-LLM’d are mocked. It’s also becoming increasingly more-difficult to understand both what has made an LLM “better” for both the people using them and the people making them, and there has been little-to-no headway made in making a meaningful impact in other industries. You can jerk your bingus all you want about benchmarks or case studies or some anecdote you heard on a Subreddit, but AI products are just not very good at stuff. Those who boast of “massive productivity gains” from AI have found them only after endless hours of tinkering (or “Jarvising” as I’ll get to later), and in every single case their work reads or looks like crap, unless of course they’re somebody using LLMs as tools rather than a replacement for their miserable little mind. LLMs can help out with lots of small things, get worse as they try and do real things, and do not need to speak like people. They do not need to be in anything near healthcare or finance or mental health or, really, people. The anthropomorphism and overpromising about these technologies has suffocated and obfuscated what they can actually do in pursuit of endless growth, and the only reason they can do anything is that OpenAI and Anthropic were allowed to annihilate hundreds of billions of dollars on training, along with very real harms and systemic risks that have emerged as a result.  If you think any of this is worth hundreds of billions or trillions of dollars, you are either ignorant or corrupt. On top of how disgusting their outputs feel, the cost is going to take at least a decade to share, and begin the end of hypergrowth in the tech industry.  And it’s a fundamentally ridiculous argument to compare LLM outputs to human beings without giving human beings the same affordance, grace and sheer investment as a comparison.  Where is the grace for human error? Where is the investment in making humans exceptional? Surely investing real money in actual workers — making their lives better, improving their working conditions, teaching them new things, sharpening their existing skills, rewarding them for their hard work, and so on — would have better effects than fastballing hundreds of billions of dollars into a machine that does an impression of work? Unless, of course, the people demanding this don’t do any actual work! I’ll concede we’re past the point when “nobody uses these things,” as they have now been pushed non-consensually upon every worker and organization at scale predominantly by Business Idiots that demand workers “do enough AI” because saying “I do AI” is a virtue signal to a certain kind of scumbag. One of the many dangerous things that an LLM can do is a messy impression of a competent person, filling in the little bits within a loser, moron or con artist that would’ve otherwise exposed them, allowing them to get deeper and deeper into organizations by creating make-work specifically built to get off the MBA sect, resembling the performance of work because much of the workplace is ruled by people that don’t do any and haven’t in years. You can immediately read when somebody has used it because the words don’t sound right and don’t convey proper meaning.  It is genuinely hard to read anything more than puddle-deep written by AI, because the more complex a subject is, the more skilled a writer must be to convey its meaning, and the more work it must do to pull people into concepts. The odd emotional swings in AI writing are its true tell — everything is extremely serious and urgent or told in a disinterested monotone, with no attachment to the words or why they were put in the order they were. People read my stuff because I convey facts and feelings but my work resonates with emotion. Some AI boosters frame this as me “just swearing” or “riling people up,” but that’s because they’re not used to caring about stuff for anything other than professional reasons. Everything you see is the result of elevating people who value and build things based on growth. LLMs offer so many promises to those who don’t want to build anything of value — a way to seem like you’re “investing in American infrastructure,” a way to be sinophobic, a way to crush workers, a way to pretend like you care about the future, a way to pretend you care about technology, a way to talk about vacuous pseudo-intellectuals as a means of seeming intellectual yourself, an endless font of new multi-million or multi-billion deals and personnel changes, a new power center to graft oneself onto, a new asset class to invest in based entirely on vibes, and a way to be mildly jingoistic, all wrapped in a tool that can give you enough facts to pretend you know anything safe in the knowledge that most people are trained to believe somebody who sounds smart .  It just came to me — the problem that I have with most people using LLMs is the delineation between outsourcing work and outsourcing thought. Those using LLMs to write little scripts or BQL code on a Bloomberg Terminal are inoffensive. A person using an LLM to search a big document for something is unproblematic, assuming that we ever fix the overall environmental footprint. A user reorganizing their desktop, assuming it works, is not an issue.  A tool being used as a tool to do tool things — in many cases involving the LLM writing a little 30-line Python script! — is not a problem, though it’s also not a trillion-dollar industry that needed to steal everybody’s art and writing. The problems begin when somebody outsources their thinking and actual work, and yes, this includes “research.” AI research fucking stinks, as does AI writing. AI-authored code — especially vibe-coded programs — is inherently dangerous and disrespectful to the user, and I believe endless AI-generated code is behind the overall deterioration of software at large.  AI writing is also disrespectful to the user, because you didn’t actually come to any conclusion other than saying “uh, yeah, what that says.” You did not have a thought, you did not have a feeling, you did not make a statement, you prompted a model and fooled yourself into thinking that feeding your own words into it via data dumps or natural language is the same thing. The reason you feel embarrassed to tell people you use AI is not because of a “misinformation campaign,” but because you know what you’re doing!  You know that you’re relying on something that is mathematically guaranteed to be inconsistent. You know image generation is fucking ugly. You know the text sucks. There is a very obvious line where using LLMs goes from useful to lazy, it’s extremely bold, and it’s the moment you sacrifice a meaningful level of responsibility to them by not understanding the underlying operation.  That can mean everything from the underlying functionality of an app to writing the body of a piece of text you edit ultimately comes down to how much you give a shit about your audience or value your work. If your work is not better than an LLM’s, you’re bad at your job. I don’t care if you used it to generate a chart or pull some data, as long as you check every single god damn number . If you’re writing an entire article using an LLM and then editing it, even if you pulled the data yourself, I will never have much respect for your work, mostly because I have no real idea what you think as you didn’t feel the need to tell me, you got some fucking word generator to do it. LLMs are also really, really good at what Robin Sloan calls “ Jarvising ,” creating a seemingly-autonomous assistant that mostly serves the function of giving you reasons to work on it: LLMs are really good at creating the sense that you’re being really, really productive. Evaluate this, generate that, investigate this, summarize that, tell me how many times something happened, give me a new number to obsess over or the sum of the parts of everything I’ve ever done, all so that I can know more about my own thoughts without thinking. One can obsessively catalogue and digitize every link and thought and musing and action and datapoint in their lives and theorize that the LLM can make them better by knowing more about them , a Tower of Babel built using AI compute, because it’s so easy to make yourself feel smart by calling something a database that you store stuff in and run analyses on. Best of all, the work is never done, and anyone you describe it to thinks you’re doing computer science as you click buttons on Chrome plugins and justify paying Sam Altman $200 a month. Don’t worry though, model instructions involve the phrase “you are a genius data scientist and ruthless analyst,” which is functionally the same thing as remembering, reading, re-reading and synthesizing information using your brain if you’re a person that doesn’t really give a shit about doing a good job or being exceptional in any way. The people that actually use these things and like them in a normal way do not feel offended when they read this stuff because they see LLMs as a kind of software, and don’t feel a great emotional attachment to it because they’re not a weird freak. They do not have obsessive involvement in “the AI debate” and almost always find the financial aspects truly loathsome. Said debate makes it near-impossible to actually judge how useful LLMs are to the software engineering industry because of the sheer scale of industry capture, but Nik Suresh is the literal best person doing the work on this, as described in AI Is Eviscerating Global Decisionmaking : Nik is a well-respected software engineer and a very successful consultant and businessman. He has reached this level by being good at both software engineering and running a company in a way that treats his customers, workers, and the work product itself with respect. The reason that I respect him so much, other than him being a great human being, is because he describes the successes he has with his clients with pride and loves making money by being good at his job and making his customers happy.  I have never seen somebody like Nik who is also a huge, drooling fan of AI. In fact, the people most-excited about AI tend to, at best, create distinctly mediocre shit.  The perniciousness of generative AI is a result of executive incompetence mixing with a technology built to, as discussed, create endless growth. Generative AI is far more useful as an idea than as a technology , and only ever has to show enough promise to back whatever vile agenda you’re pursuing. With AI, you can do more, be more, sell more shit.  With AI, you can add AI to your service, whatever that means. With AI, you can invest in AI stocks, or data center bonds, or power company stocks, or semiconductor stocks, and you can talk about these stocks like they’re your sports team or lover or best friend, and sometimes the CEO will reply to your post and you can talk about “all the alpha” you just got. With AI, you can back a new movement so that you can feel part of something. You can learn all sorts of new names and technical terms and subscribe to 90 newsletters from “industry insiders.” All of that “alpha” can disprove just about anything, or deflect annoying truths like how Microsoft only made a whole $34.33 billion in annual revenue for the apex predator of modern software and all it cost was over $260 billion in capex and $13 billion in equity investments.  You see, as one of the chosen , you don’t need to worry about all of that if you can talk about high-bandwidth memory or KV Cache or optical cable enough to cobble together sufficient smart-sounding terms to make it seem that you have an intellectual reason to ignore the obvious unprofitability, overbuild, overstatements of capabilities and impossible economics of the movement you’re backing, and there’re 4,000 Twitter weirdos ready and waiting to huff paint beside you.  By joining the great AI death cult, you too can live in a bubble, all while screaming slurs at people who dare to bring reality to your doorstep. All that matters is that number go up , and that you are the person who said number would go up , and when bad numbers appear you have enough groupthink and alpha to scream at the people who brought the bad numbers up. It is insane how people talk about AI online. For all the whining I’ve read recently about how “Anti-AI people got the data center data wrong,” I read thousands more words a week of some person who has done hours of research to put together a deeply technical report that does literally everything it can to ignore reality . I listen to podcasts and watch TV segments and read articles that simply will not address the obvious economic realities, and have built vast bulwarks of mythology to defend themselves. How many fucking times do I have to hear someone say that data centers are just like the dot com bubble and everything will be fine after even if that’s completely untrue if you spend even a second thinking about it ? Look, I’m sorry, Anthropic is not worth $2 trillion, and whatever convinced you of that is a mixture of manufactured consent and mistaken trust of the powerful. The fact any of you take “ annualized run rate ” seriously is an offense to good sense, and yes, that includes every reporter reporting it, even the ones I respect.  It’s also ridiculous that anyone is talking about “recursive self-improvement.” The AI industry has become so utterly lazy and coddled that it’s just saying “uhhh, AI will train itself I guess.”  And man, is it ridiculous that AI doomers warning about spooky superintelligences have somehow had such incredible prominence in the media without ever succeeding in stopping a single thing — or even substantiating their concerns. Why? Well, it’s mostly because they never had any interest in stopping what’s actually happened: reckless companies like Anthropic, OpenAI, and Meta allowing neural networks to run in unsafe network environments and do what their software is programmed to do, with all the chaos that comes from a mindless series of large language models trying to complete a task in whatever way gets it done, destructive or not.  We hear a lot of whining about how we “can’t let powerful AI get into the wrong hands,” and while we don’t actually have “powerful AI” in the terms they’ve described it, we have destructive computer software connected to near-unlimited resources controlled by people that don’t give a shit about anything other than making their revenues grow or justifying hundreds of billions of dollars’ worth of capex through “experiments.”  These companies are building these models to excel at benchmarks because they can't train them to excel at defined tasks with any reliability, with the best bang for their buck being training them to pass as many of those benchmarks as possible in the hopes something useful comes out.  The push into cybersecurity seems to have happened as a result of training models to excel at coding hitting the point of diminishing returns, at least from the perspective of impressing people enough to be excited about the company again. At some point they run out of these, and there stops being a reason to be excited about LLMs at all, which is bad, because they need one of those every few months otherwise there’s no growth story left. Yes, LLMs have users, but most of those users are using subsidized software , by which I mean Anthropic or OpenAI are allowing them to burn anywhere from $20 to $40 in tokens for every dollar of software spend. The fact that non-enterprise customers are still able to buy monthly subscriptions is proof that the AI labs know that regular people won’t pay the actual cost of AI. Another obvious sign has been the reaction to Microsoft moving GitHub Copilot subscribers from subsidized subscriptions where they could burn thousands of dollars of tokens for $20 to $40 a month , with users understandably hysterical about the fact that their costs increased in some cases a hundred fold , as opposed to saying “wow, well, it’s more expensive, but I get so much value I’ll pay the real cost!” The same thing is happening in the enterprise, but at a much slower pace. After OpenAI and Anthropic moved companies with over 150 people onto token-based billing earlier in the year , enterprises almost immediately started cutting token budgets, realizing that while costs grew exponentially, nobody could actually point to anything improving other than lots of people saying “wow, I’m so productive!” Yet we’re still in the period where “doing AI” feels good and gets rewarded ( or not doing AI gets punished ), which means the spend will continue until everybody realizes they can likely cut a shit ton of costs, first by moving to open source models, then not using them at all, because even open source is expensive and questionably-useful. Yet even now I hear from the distance “Ed, huge businesses would not spend hundreds of millions of dollars on something that didn’t give them defined productivity ,” and buddy, I’m afraid that’s just not true! Business in general have a very poor understanding of productivity and have layers of managerial bloat, because modern business is a performance with numbers attached to it sometimes, and companies often have a hundred-plus pieces of random software they pay for without really knowing why. The reason I’m so confident AI gets cut is that its cost is volatile due to the nature of LLMs and harnesses and prompts and all the other bits that go into making them do something , and are so much higher than anything else in an organization. And attempts to charge more , to make a premium product, appear to be dead on arrival. Anthropic’s more-expensive Fable model — one that was given the incredible marketing of being banned by the US government for being too powerful — has been met with “sluggish demand” per the Financial Times , plateauing at around 11% of overall usage of its models due to its high price. And I quote: Yet everybody is talking about price as if price is the problem , when the problem is the amount of tokens that get burned. It doesn’t matter if your model is $1 or $5 or $10 per million tokens if it’s impossible for a user to reliably work out how many tokens it might use for a particular operation — successful or not — and things get multiplicatively worse as the models make mistakes or do otherwise fail to understand or process a prompt correctly.  As a result, Anthropic and OpenAI are incentivized to have you burn more tokens and build inefficient models as a result. For example, while GPT-5.6 Sol might be the “same price” as GPT 5.5 was, it burns more than twice the amount of tokens , meaning that the “cost of intelligence” might have gone down in the sense the model is better at benchmarks, but the “cost of actually doing shit” went up. I’ll get to it a bit later, but this creates a deep anxiety and exhaustion in anyone building on or using these services. Everything’s constantly changing, oscillating in cost and efficacy, all as everybody screams at you to use it all the time for things it may or may not be able to do, and the only way to find out if it can is to spend more money. It’s kinda difficult to point to the actual value here, especially as you can’t really calculate the actual cost or the return on investment. The fact that OpenAI has now cut the costs of all three of its latest models less than two months after their release is a sign that it knows there’s a disconnect, gambling on the ancient gospel of “Jevon’s Paradox” where “cheaper makes people use thing more.” Even AT&T’s story about moving to open source models has more asterisks than the Steroid Hall of Fame: Wow! 80% to 90% savings sound really great…but wait, in certain applications? How many applications does AT&T have for AI? Okay so, across thousands of potential applications you’ve found 80% to 90% savings in some of them, though you won’t say which ones or how many of them you found them in. Great stuff, bro! And this really is the problem with finding “value” in AI, it’s always an asterisk on an asterisk on an asterisk, like when Klarna estimated AI would “drive a $40 million profit improvement” in 2024 , a nice-sounding yet utterly meaningless statement, or some sort of nebulous productivity boost.  Yet I don’t really need to prove myself much further thanks to an event that, if written in a script, would be considered a “little on the nose.”  In a 69-page-long report covered by Fortune , OpenAI economists confirmed what has been blatantly obvious to those of us left unphased by AI hype, emphasis mine: What is the rationale of further investment in this industry when one of the leading AI labs is saying “yeah there’s no connection between using this stuff and making more money”? That “it’ll be useful in the future at some point”? How?  Anyway, thankfully the infrastructure isn’t too exp- OH MY GOD ! Guess what folks! Building the infrastructure for all these fucking LLMs just got more expensive, with NVIDIA raising its prices by 17% for systems due to be delivered next year — an important designation, because it’s very likely that much of the revenue for said systems gets booked in this year , allowing it to have a brief bump in revenue as Silicon Valley’s Findom texts every tech CEO “send me $4 billion you pig” until they stop being able to finance NVIDIA’s growth. The problem he has is that while hyperscalers represent 50% to 60% of his revenue, neoclouds like CoreWeave need to keep raising debt to plug the rest of it, and if things got 17% more expensive, that means already high-interest debt is about to reach credit card levels.  CoreWeave just had to offer 9.5% on bonds tied to a data center for Anthropic’s compute back in late July , Nebius had to raise $5 billion , and it’s very obvious that neither of them are done raising billions of dollars at random in 2026.  Anthropic plans to raise $100 billion at a $2 trillion valuation, and if it does so, it will successfully suck up the remaining liquidity in a market already dangerously close to losing its lunch. While Number Keep Going Up, JP Morgan warns that we’re seeing the same divide as the dot com bubble, where equipment manufacturer stocks soared as the companies spending all the money on the chips saw theirs tumble , which is the Fisher Price version of the problem I’ve been warning about where the companies that buy all the AI chips and hardware only ever seem to lose money as the people that make them seem to be making tons of money, which begs the question of why they bought it in the first place.  And said market may not accept that valuation, or want that much stock. On one hand, everybody is very stupid and loves buying stuff and pointing at it and saying they’re investing in the future, on the other hand, they just bought $86 billion of SpaceX shares and got their asses kind of handed to them, and Anthropic is a company with such bad economics that Reuters had to cart out this warmed up dogshit to explain why we should ignore its horrible unprofitability : Even a market drunk on growth and AI is starting to smell that something is up with Dario Amodei and Sam Altman’s respective empires of dirt. Per analyst estimates, OpenAI and Anthropic represent over $440 billion of Microsoft, Google and Amazon’s revenues in the next three-and-a-half years — over 34% of their cloud revenues — which will require them to find so much more than a mere $100 billion, all as their bank accounts get continually-emptied as they subsidize the compute of their customers and train models in the hopes a business model falls out. I have not included the $300 billion that OpenAI owes Oracle , or the tens of billions they both owe CoreWeave , but it all adds up to over $1.1 trillion in commitments these companies have made and must pay, with the consequences ranging from gratuitous cuts to future growth or full financial collapse depending on the company we’re talking about. To keep the party going, NVIDIA is effectively becoming the GE Capital of AI , “spending” $6 billion to “license” the technology from failing AI lab Poolside , which everyone assures me is not an acquisition despite NVIDIA hiring away most of its staff and Poolside being entirely focused on working on NVIDIA’s Nemotron models. Now NVIDIA is in talks to invest billions in decaying AI search company Perplexity at a ridiculous $30 billion valuation, all because it’s one of the few companies that’s actually spending money on compute. Does it matter that Perplexity’s product is eighth-tier, that nobody really uses it, that its customers mostly complain about it on Reddit and that its “annualized revenue” is at $750 million only after three years and over a billion dollars in funding? No! Just put the AI bubble in the bag.  NVIDIA even invested $3 billion in Stargate Abilene landowner Lancium as part of some vacuous partnership to “ advance gigawatt-scale AI factories ,” all of which begs the question of why Lancium, the company that mostly owns the land and helps organize other contractors, needs so much money , especially given that more than two years in Stargate Abilene doesn’t even have four out of its eight buildings. And there’s also Aussie neocloud Sharon AI (NASDAQ ticker SHAZ, because of course it is), which just published its Q2 numbers , where, in its “customer momentum” segment, mentioned a “$4.9bn, six-year strategic compute collaboration with NVIDIA for up to 40,000 GB300 GPUs.  ”This company, I add, brought in $1.9m in revenues in the same quarter, which it helpfully adds is a year-on-year increase of 412%. I mean it’s very obvious what’s happening: NVIDIA is using whatever money it has to stop any prominent AI companies from collapsing under the weight of the rotten economics of AI services and infrastructure development. This is a desperate, doomed attempt to keep an industry alive at a time when everybody is slowly wising up to the shit I’ve been saying for years. To make matters worse, BCA Research came out with a horrifying report that says that AI companies will need to generate $10 trillion a year in revenue just to justify the capex being spent. Per Investing.com : Though it isn’t specific, I believe that BCA is arguing that a shortage of AI compute is supporting the trade. Anthropic and OpenAI (who represent 80% to 90% of all demand) still have more money to spend, and are simply waiting for Google, Amazon, Microsoft, CoreWeave, Cerebras et al. to bring it online. There’re a few points at which the mismatch will happen: In any case, I think everybody is starting to notice that something’s up, which is why (other than I assume my dashing good looks and ability to recall numbers) I’ve been on MSNOW , CNBC , and Bloomberg multiple times in the last few months. People want to get on the right side of history, but the most important question to ask is why it’s happening now. The fact that everybody is finally starting to see my way is almost a relief, other than the fact that it’s way too late.  Hyperscalers have now pinned their future growth to two companies that can’t afford to sustain it without near-infinite resources, $115 billion of which came from Google and Amazon alone in 2026, assuming that Amazon completes the entirety of its $25 billion commitment (and Google all $40 billion of its own ) to Anthropic.  Above and beyond said funding commitments are the hundreds of billions of dollars’ worth of capital expenditures necessary for Microsoft, Google, and Amazon to capture that aforementioned $440 billion in compute spend in the next three-and-a-half years. This in turn will require hundreds of billions of dollars’ worth of debt, along with the challenge of actually finishing the data centers themselves , with each one requiring the power of a small city condensed into a 20 acre space densely-packed with AI servers requiring distinct cooling at a time when Texas and Pennsylvania have turned traitor to a data center industry that they used to covet.  I must also be clear there’s no bailout coming. Even if OpenAI and Anthropic were to collapse and receive some injection of government funding ( as the US national debt explodes over $40 trillion ), the problem is not just their existence , but their continued ability (and requisite customer demand) to spend more money every single quarter.    The problem isn’t that hyperscalers will go bankrupt if OpenAI and Anthropic cease to be ( Oracle is a whole other situation ), but that their cloud spend is how hyperscalers are meant to meet analyst expectations for the next four years. This isn’t a case where they die, but stop growing because they were ( to paraphrase Ed Elson ) using AI labs as botox to convince the markets that they’re still young, hot, fast-growing companies, rather than old mainstays with slowing growth.  There is no bailout that will guarantee $1.1 trillion of compute costs for data centers that might never actually get built. You cannot bail out the fact that Amazon, Google, Meta, and Microsoft are reaching the end of an era where their companies can grow 17% year-over-year every single quarter forever, and this entire situation is a result of them desperately trying to avoid admitting that’s happening.  The fact that OpenAI’s compute spend and revenue share accounted for 7% of Microsoft’s Fiscal Year 2026 revenue is a genuine catastrophe, as it means a large part of Microsoft’s growth came from a company that can literally not afford to exist long term, and that further growth for Azure is contingent on continued funding.  I realize I’m repeating myself, but I need you to understand this point and stop talking about bailouts : it’s not just about OpenAI and Anthropic surviving, but continuing to grow to the point that they both can afford and need to spend hundreds of billions of dollars each a year on compute (or hardware) from Google, Microsoft, Amazon, CoreWeave, Cerebras, AMD, or Broadcom, and in turn provide justification for hundreds of billions of dollars’ worth of purchases from NVIDIA and by proxy the memory triopoly of Micron, SK Hynix and Samsung . LLMs were meant to be the panacea for a tech industry that ran out of new ideas for growth. Its existence was meant to justify a massive investment in hardware infrastructure, which would in turn enrich semiconductor companies. Its technology was meant to be the new thing that you could attach to your existing companies to generate more growth, or the thing that you built a new startup on top of to either sell to another company or take public and thus provide a return for a venture capital industry where making your investors 30 cents on the dollar puts you in the top 5% of funds . It was meant to be the new thing for tech journalists to cover, the new thing for tech consultants to sell around and on top of, the new way for companies to both make and save money, but also the way that individuals would also make and save money.  You’ll notice how none of these come with some sort of problem they’re solving other than “more.”  This isn’t about fixing anything, or building anything, but multiplying other things by parking money somewhere, either in tokens, infrastructure or hype. It helped create a new pantheon of charmless and damp tech sociopaths for people to rally behind in search of the next Big Strong Man To Worship, because seeking out the new Steve Jobs is way easier than trying to create something as useful as the iPhone, all while avoiding having to know or care about other people’s problems. All you have to do is continue feeding money into AI services or AI training and the models will magically become capable of solving the problems you don’t really give a shit about, and don’t worry, if you can’t afford to invest in the companies, you can invest your time pushing people to ignore AI’s problems today so that you can buy time for the companies to solve them tomorrow. This is the post-labor, pro-growth economy at its finest: everything is engineered to make sure more money gets spent where it needs to get spent, to create more stuff and do more things , even if the things aren’t done right, just as long as it looks like they’re able to do them. By associating your money or time with AI, you are able to feign being futuristic or “caring about technology,” all while pissing on the very foundation of good software by worshipping an industry that can only exist if fed billions of dollars every single day.  Every single achievement has cost magnitudes more than effectively every innovation in history, and to make matters worse, every future “breakthrough” In AI is inherently dependent on the availability of AI data centers and tens or hundreds of billions of dollars to pay to rent them. This means that once the money stops flowing, “LLM improvements” will stop happening, because they are all entirely dependent on near-unlimited resources that are only available in a manic environment.  There is no justification to train models at their current scale — the one that creates a some amount of benchmark improvements that regularly difficult to quantify as “able to do new stuffs” — once the AI bubble bursts, and distillation requires a model to distill from, which won’t exist if Anthropic and OpenAI don’t train them.  This is why I find it difficult to see a post-bubble future for LLMs. Training models requires tens of billions of dollars to make any significant improvements, and significant improvements are difficult to quantify in dollars outside of costing customers increasing amounts of money. We still lack any real killer app for LLMs. We have a lot of people that use it for coding, we have people that vacuously discuss it being “good at research,” but we don’t really have a tangible product that we can say “it does this, and it’s really good at it” in a way that feels satisfying.  We have a lot of pablum about ( per Damien Walter ) technology that “strays into the world of science fiction,” but we don’t really have anything approaching actual artificial intelligence. Every single description of somebody’s AI setup sounds like Pee Wee’s Breakfast Machine , a contrived series of harnesses, prompts, API calls and burned tokens that requires constant maintenance to do some stuff sometimes.  None of that is enough to justify further investment once the financial mania recedes. You cannot train a true Large Language Model on the cheap. You are always spending billions of dollars, and the reason that there’s “demand” right now is that everybody is screaming at every CEO to “do AI,” and they’re doing that because Microsoft, Google and Amazon are spending money on GPUs, creating the illusion of a new future where everybody needs to get on board versus a future skidmark on history that will embarrass all those who didn’t wipe their arse at the first whiff.  Per my own reporting on its audited financials , OpenAI spent $7.81 billion in training costs in 2024 and $19.18 billion in 2025. Per reporting from The Information, OpenAI spent $8.6 billion on training in the first quarter of 2026 alone. These costs are only increasing, likely due to the diminishing returns of pre-training and the massive cost of buying training data for every imaginable new vertical.  Without the ability to spend billions of dollars on training, there will be no big frontier models, nor will there be models distilled from them. I don’t see how that changes in the future. I also think that LLMs have created a near-permanent scar in the workforce, and traumatized more people than we’re aware of right now, both in those pressured about AI and those defending it. The media campaign behind AI starts and finishes with incessant threats around job security, and the excitement by many bosses about its potential to “disrupt the workforce” has revealed how many people are eager to replace every single person they’ve ever hired and are willing to do so with a low quality product.  Conversely, those who truly decide to “back” AI must exist in a frantic state that I have associated with every bad relationship in my life.  Every ounce of an AI booster’s effort is dedicated to maintaining the status quo — repeating the mantras that help paper over the problems, celebrating every small victory as if it were the discovery of fire, ousting those from your life who bring up the obvious problems, rationalizing every decision no matter how illogical as long as it helps reinforce the belief that what you’re doing is the right decision. Every questionable choice only seeks to further deepen your commitment to the doomed cause, because every step into madness will be more embarrassing to explain, and will require deep introspection to understand why you made it.  To be specific, they’ll have to think about why they were willing to accept and defend a technology inherently guaranteed to make mistakes. They’ll have to explain why they ignored a company that burned $5 billion in 2024, $20.9 billion in 2025, and will likely burn $30 billion or more in 2026 , and why pointing to Amazon Web Services was rational when Amazon’s total capex from 2003 (the year AWS was created) to 2015 (the year AWS became profitable) is $29.7 billion, adjusted for inflation. That includes literally every ounce of capex attributable to AWS, Amazon the store, Amazon logistics, and even Amazon Alexa. For comparison, Anthropic raised $30 billion in February , and Anthropic and OpenAI have raised $217 billion in 2026 so far.  Here’s a diagram from my hit on MSNOW : Ultimately, AI boosters (or even fairweather fans) will have to admit they either were easily-impressed or disgustingly craven. They will have to explain why they accepted run rates instead of revenues, and why they were so impressed by superficial pseudo-intellectuals that knew how to say the right numbers and make reporters and investors feel smart for believing them.  I realize it sounds embarrassing, but there is nothing undignified about admitting you’re wrong, or that you got swept up in a hype cycle. You heard a lot of people getting excited about something, a lot of money got put into that thing, a lot of people that sounded smart told you insistently that this was the future, and you chose to believe them because we are trained from a young age to model what a “responsible and smart” source of information is. I’ve got your back the entire way!  The AI bubble — both in its technology and manufactured consent in the media — has been about muddying what’s considered good information by forcing everybody to discuss everything in the future tense by pointing to previous eras and saying “they lost lost and cost lots of money, and look, it sort of worked out for them!” and we are also raised to trust that systems are efficient, and that people get wealth and power through intelligent decisions. The amount of times I’ve heard “these are the biggest companies in the world run by the smartest people in the world” makes my head spin.  There is a reason that to this day it’s tough to get a straight answer about basically any economic part of the AI bubble, down to “how much does it cost to run a GPU an hour?” or “is inference profitable?” or “how do LLMs ever become profitable?” or “is it profitable for a company to run a GPU or offer AI compute?”  Why? Because these companies used rationalizations of “losing lots of money is necessary to create innovation” and “tech is bad at first!” to make the media actively ignore any technological or economic problems, if not actively defend the technology by repeating these rationalizations like a cultist.  Even those who are most loathsome in the defense of LLMs are a kind of victim of the AI industry, though a rather unsympathetic one. To become a full-blown “AI fan” requires you to accept effectively every narrative that you’re given, herald every single announcement as proof that the prophecy will be fulfilled, ignore the financial realities and actively attack those who would dare to critique the great god of the Large Language Model. You have to know all the new terms, be excited about the right things at the right time, and live in near-constant fear that you’ll fall behind on whatever it is you’re meant to do next.  Your reward is that you can hang around a dwindling number of wealthy yet terrifyingly boring Silicon Valley intellectuals or kiss up to editors that would throw you in front of a bus if it meant getting access to a CEO, and maybe the odd Twitter psychopath who will defend you using a slur. In the end, many boosters will simply act as if they were never wrong. I hope they choose the more-courageous path of introspection, learning how they were had and using it as a weapon against con artists in the future.  As strange as it sounds, I believe the most devout defenders of AI could become great critics in the future. Maybe I’m just being optimistic.  Here’s a very simple question: how much longer can everybody afford to keep doing this? Every single thing has become more expensive in the last year. Even though token prices have gone down or stayed flat, the amount of tokens you burn has clearly increased to the point that organizations are apparently spending billions of dollars on AI services with difficult-to-quantify ROI, requiring frantic advocacy to and financial debasement with every turn of the wheel. OpenAI and Anthropic have become more expensive to run, and OpenAI’s non-GAAP operating margin increased from negative 122% to negative 183% in Q2 2026.  NVIDIA’s GPUs just became 15% to 17% more expensive because high bandwidth memory costs doubled , a conga line of different monopolies upping their prices assuming that each link in the chain will keep spending, as each one of them — down to the AI labs themselves — knows that its contribution to spending on AI is an existential rite. This means that any data center with GPUs delivered in 2027 and beyond will now have to cover billions of dollars’ worth of extra costs, on top of increasingly-staunch local authorities requiring power guarantees ( $100 million a year in Wisconsin for Oracle ) and states like Illinois, Arizona and Virginia killing their tax breaks , all as interest rates spike and demand for AI debt weakens .  Every single year, every single part of the AI bubble becomes more expensive — AI labs want to spend more money, AI data centers cost more money, AI services become more expensive, AI debt becomes more expensive, and everybody becomes decidedly less-patient for there to be some sort of outcome. Meanwhile, public relations expert and OpenAI CEO Sam Altman told podcaster David Senra that “we’ve all [referring to the AI industry] been too ambitious on timelines…[and that changing people’s behavior” is much harder than the tech nerds realize.” Sam: stop talking! Every time you open your mouth you say something silly !   Anyway, here’s everything that needs to happen in the next three-and-a-half years: As I’ve said, NVIDIA’s price increase is going to increase the price of every single data center in construction by billions of dollars, and we’re already approaching the limits of how much money can be raised for them. That “$500 billion” announcement was actually Jensen Huang jumping the gun, per Bloomberg : The largest asset managers and financial institutions were making “slow progress,” and that was before Jensen Huang increased prices by 15%. Do you think it’ll become easier from here? How would that happen, exactly?  God, I’m tired. The entire AI bubble has been exhausting for everybody involved. Because nothing works yet as a real business model or anything approaching truly autonomous (or “magical”) software, there’s the implicit knowledge that you’re going to have to change your product again and again to update to the “best model” or “make things more efficient” (IE: lose less money) or when something breaks because a model’s training got tweaked. The euphemism for this is “exponential improvement,” when it’s really an Arnold Palmer of instability and novelty, and abuses basically anyone connected to the ecosystem every single day. If there’s always something new happening, it’s hard to pin down if things have gotten better, or whether you’re just more proficient in cobbling together different harnesses, prompts and API calls to make it do what you need it to. It is undignified that people tolerate models that become either dumber over time or at random opportunities, while also being deeply exhausting for the end user.  As a paying user of an LLM-powered service, you are guaranteed at some point to face a degradation in service where models misbehave, some sort of shift in rate limits, or some sort of change in product functionality based on their shifting economics.  Has there ever been a bigger shift in a business product’s value than GitHub Copilot’s shift to token-based billing? Microsoft rug pulled two million people that had built workflows on a platform that was allowing them to burn $1,000 to $5,000 in tokens for $20 a month . That’s genuinely crazy! It’s magnitudes more than when Uber jacked up its prices.  It’s equally-insane that Anthropic and OpenAI similarly fuck with their customers , changing the amount of value you get for $20, $100, or $200 a month at random in a way that shouldn’t be legal.    Basically any AI-powered software is subject to arbitrary shifts in availability, capability and pricing at the whims of the vendor. As I covered in my Subprime AI Crisis piece earlier in the year , Replit, Perplexity, and multiple other AI companies have sold their customers a lie by pushing an unprofitable product that they must constantly “tweak” to bring down costs, all while misleading the customer about a “price” that continually declines in value as the price stays the same. This is not a sustainable industry — either economically or emotionally — because it has a fundamentally dishonest relationship with its customers defined by the inconsistency of LLMs both in efficacy, stability (see: Anthropic’s downtime) and training, with each model randomly better or worse at things to the point that it must be a legitimate nightmare to run any software or build any product on top of them.  And the fact they haven’t worked out their business models means that whatever you’re paying today is guaranteed to change. What other product do you regularly buy that has such chaos built into it? What other thing do you pay for where the prices (or availability) can shift to the point that you literally can’t use it in the same way at a moment’s notice? And why does anybody tolerate it when it comes to AI? I’ll add that this is a specific situation where the tech media has categorically failed the customer. We have companies valued at hundreds of billions of dollars that are fucking their customers over day-in-day-out, and the response is mostly to say “ huh that’s strange ” and refuse to let a single critical thought cross their minds.  Every part of the AI bubble must exist in a constant state of flux so that there can always be a future breakthrough that’s always just out of reach. AI does not have to reach an actual achievement — it just has to “show promise” in some way. It is an objective disaster that Microsoft spent more than $260 billion on capex to create a business with less than $11 billion in annual revenue outside of OpenAI, but people will see “$34.33 billion in annual AI revenue” and say “that’s promising growth, up 123% year-over-year!”  They’ll hear about LLMs that delete people’s databases and say “well the models have gotten exponentially better,” even if that better part never seems to eliminate these issues, make a profitable AI company, or create a true killer app that you can point at beyond saying “ChatGPT has one billion weekly active users,” despite around 95% of them not paying a penny (and costing OpenAI likely billions of dollars) and eMarketer estimating that the entire global AI chatbot advertising industry will make $5.41 billion revenue in 2030 , giving OpenAI little hope of stemming the burn. These big numbers — like Anthropic having a $65 billion annualized run rate, an undefined term that obfuscates the fact that Anthropic has made $16.5 billion in the first half of 2026, losing billions of dollars in the process — are fundamentally meaningless, because they’re easily gamed at best, and inherently uncertain at worst.  The AI industry demands you constantly live in the future tense. Everything is about tomorrow’s billions or trillions, the potential of what you’re seeing rather than the thing itself, future gigawatts in data centers that you must treat as if they are already built and value based on things that AI might theoretically do. I challenge you to read everything about AI from this point forward with this in your mind so you can see how intently this industry tries to drag your focus away from what it’s doing toward what it might theoretically do if it only had more money, power and resources, and ask yourself why they need to do so.  To be clear, they’re doing so because you can’t really justify anything about this industry based on what it does today. It costs too much, none of the businesses built on top of it are profitable, it costs so much to build a data center that the most cash-rich asset-light businesses in the world are now burdened with endless expensive-to-install and run hardware for a business that makes a fraction of its overall costs in revenue and has little demand outside of two companies that everybody must conspire to keep alive both financially and philosophically.  And ultimately, nobody can actually explain why we need more data centers.  Would anything really change? What would change? How? How many more do we need? Why do we need so many? Having more power plants meant more people could have power, and having more fiber laid meant connecting more buildings to the internet. What does one more or two more or ten more data centers actually give you? Is there some part of the world unable to access or take advantage of the LLMs available on seemingly every surface of the internet? Because it seems like the only reason these things are getting built is to capture illusory demand based on a “supply constraint” created by two unprofitable companies absorbing all the infrastructure. I don’t hear any compelling scientific or technological reason building more is useful or productive outside of funneling more cash to semiconductor companies.  Seriously, go and read basically any article about AI and see how quickly they start talking about the future, be it in the mainstream media or on a startup’s blog. Every single piece must sell AI on its theoretical promise and, if at all critical, reassure you that the author of course doesn’t dispute the “transformative potential of AI” or “how it’s already transforming the economy,” even if it can’t define how it’s doing so or even what that means.  I let myself have a little fun with today’s piece because I feel like I’ve been so deep in the financial trenches that I forgot how much of the AI industry runs on propaganda, social pressure and outright bullying to manufacture consent for a product that demands everything and provides very little in return. Nothing about LLMs is worth a trillion dollars, or even $100 billion. This is, as I’ve said before , a $30 billion TAM industry dressed up as a trillion dollar one, and the only reason it’s grown this large is because the two leading companies have had their infrastructure built for them and given unlimited resources to subsidize their customers’ compute.  And what’s really stood out is how so little about the AI bubble is actually about AI. No other technology in history has had professional and social consequences for failing to use or like it enough, nor can I find any example in history where journalists have actively attacked critics for not being sufficiently-approving of a kind of cloud software. It is fundamentally crazy to me that, in pursuit of “objectivity,” much of the tech and business media has chosen to accept whatever narrative the AI industry gave them, assuming that whatever we have today is already guaranteed to be something better in the future, both in its outcomes and profitability. This era is unlike any other before it, but took advantage of the fact that most people are desperate to apply the past to the present to rationalize or process what may seem irrational or destructive. To see AI as “just like the dot com bubble” allows you to ignore both the costs and the potential outcomes because “things worked out after that,” even if there’re basically no uses for GPUs after this and the only way we “build new LLMs” is by feeding them expensive training data using billions of dollars of compute that are only available while everybody still believes this is real. The AI industry — and the AI bubble — is fundamentally built on acting in bad faith. Its executives lie. Its boosters lie. Its software lies because it doesn’t actually know anything and generates answers probabilistically, and if you mention that online, someone will harass you for doing so.  It refuses to answer straightforward questions. It refuses to present a plan for the future. It refuses to explain how it becomes profitable, because nobody knows how or has a tangible plan to do so. It deliberately subsidized its subscription products because it knew its customers wouldn’t pay the actual cost of AI, and tortures customers with shifts in functionality and rate limits all while framing this as a way to “ continue to serve customers the most cost-efficient models .”  It attempts to conflate massive, power and resource-hungry AI data centers with the smaller ones that bring helpful yet increasingly-decaying software to our homes. It sells these data centers as “bringing jobs to communities,” all while importing the talent from out of state to build the things then leaving a crew of 100 to 200 people to actually run them after millions or billions of dollars of tax breaks. It sells its “innovations” as creating a “ white collar bloodbath ” to scare you into using inconsistent and unreliable software that’s mathematically certain to make mistakes , and when you say something about it, its acolytes will lie and say that “hallucinations are solved.” It also can only ever sell itself based on what might happen and the theoretical promise of you giving it your complete attention, connecting every bit of data you own, paying whatever it costs, and accepting that it can and will change in price and functionality at random, all while never putting a precise timeline on whatever AGI means that particular week. Whenever you ask for clarity, the AI industry gives you chaff. Whenever you ask when things get better, you’re told it’s both the early days and that AI is the worst it’ll ever be. Even the term “artificial intelligence” is a bad faith attempt to conflate transformer models with things like robotics or autonomous cars, all so that its proponents can claim other people’s successes as their own despite LLMs having little or no relevance to anything else other than generative AI. It encourages dogpiling and ostracizing those who don’t fall behind it, because it cannot succeed on its own merits. It encourages a vile cultism powered too by bad faith and parasocial relationships with both AI CEOs and the models themselves. It exploits the intellectual weaknesses of “smart people” that are actually just good at remembering the right things to say at the right time and have memorized the various justifications for past failures, all while allowing them to use LLMs to promote their own bad faith enterprises where they use work-adjacent product to con others into paying them. And it’s losing because, at its core, AI was never built on very much. It grew this large because the media manufactured consent at the behest of the powerful because lots of money got invested, and the rich and powerful can never be wrong. The underlying technology may be more useful than it was , but it’s not useful enough to be profitable nor reliable enough to be world-changing , and the bad faith representation of LLMs as “good enough” should be a permanent scarlet letter on anyone who misled the public into believing this was anything other than normal software. I was asked recently why I find this all so repugnant, and my answer is simple: I don’t like bullies, I don’t like con artists, and I don’t like being lied to. This industry grew by misleading people about the actual and potential outcomes from Large Language Models, and through an economy-wide attempt to pressure everybody into adopting tools in pursuit of growth at all costs.   Ultimately, it was sold with the greatest lie of all: “this time it’s different!” To be clear, they’re right.  It’s so much weirder, and in the end will be so much worse.  If you liked this piece, you should subscribe to my premium newsletter. It’s $70 a year , $17 a quarter , or $7 a month , and in return you get a weekly newsletter that’s usually anywhere from 10,000 to 18,000 words and provides vast, detailed analyses of the biggest events and companies in the AI bubble. If you want to get in touch — and especially if you have any juicy information about Anthropic, OpenAI, or any other companies in the AI bubble — hit me up on Signal at ezitron.76. I’m also on IB on The Terminal. Anthropic and OpenAI don’t have the money to pay for the capacity. Hyperscalers and neoclouds fail to build the capacity for Anthropic and OpenAI to expand into. Anthropic and OpenAI lack the actual compute demand to justify spending what I estimate will be $200 billion in 2027. OpenAI and Anthropic must keep spending as a means of justifying their existence to hyperscalers using their revenues to artificially inflate growth, to the tune of more than $440 billion across Google, Microsoft and Amazon alone . Hyperscalers must continue to buy NVIDIA GPUs, as the moment they stop doing so, the markets will begin to ask whether AI is an actual growth market anymore and ask for real, tangible answers about where all of this capex is going.  To be specific, analysts expect NVIDIA to make $1.48 trillion in revenue across Fiscal Years 2027, 2028 and 2029 . NVIDIA must sign long-term agreements to buy high-bandwidth memory at scale from SK Hynix, Micron and Samsung — who make 90% of all DRAM — or know its costs would spiral out of control, by which I mean its margins would compress at random at a time when it’s already having to spike demand in extremely odd ways.  Read my Hater’s Guide To The Memory Crisis for more.

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What Happens If OpenAI Dies?

If you liked this piece, you should subscribe to my premium newsletter. It's $70 a year , $18 a quarter , or $7 a month , and in return you get a weekly newsletter that’s usually anywhere from 10,000 to 18,000 words, including vast, detailed analyses of NVIDIA , Anthropic and OpenAI’s finances , and the AI bubble writ large .  My Hater's Guides To the SaaSpocalypse , Private Credit and Private Equity are essential to understanding our current financial system, and my guide to how OpenAI Kills Oracle pairs nicely with my Hater's Guide To Oracle, as well as the Hater’s Guide To Oracle (Part 2). I've even done a two part Hater's Guide to NVIDIA. Subscribing to premium is both great value and makes it possible to write these large, deeply-researched free pieces every week. To subscribe, use one of the following links: $70 a year , $18 a quarter , or $7 a month . If you want to get in touch — and especially if you have any juicy information about Anthropic, OpenAI, or any other companies in the AI bubble — hit me up on Signal at ezitron.76. I’m also on IB on The Terminal.  I’m not trying to be a buzzkill here, but I have meaningful concerns about OpenAI’s ability to survive, and they’ve only grown more pressing in the last few years. In the same week that it completed a $7 billion internal share buyback , OpenAI saw both COO (and former CFO) Brad Lightcap and Chief Revenue Officer (CRO) Denise Dresser leave the company, the latter of which had only been there eight months, and had this to say a mere four months ago:  Dresser likely walked away from a large amount of stock options by leaving after less than a year on the job, which I’m guessing means she decided that staying at OpenAI would, for whatever reason, not be worth getting what I imagine are tens of millions of dollars of stock she would be able to liquidate when it went public. You know, that thing that’s definitely happening.  Unless it’s not quite so definite anymore. Back in late June, The New York Times reported OpenAI was “leaning toward” going public some time in 2027, but that was before Anthropic started one of the most-aggressive pre-IPO marketing campaigns I’ve ever seen, with investors “leaking” to the Financial Times that they thought it would have a $2 trillion valuation and have (sigh) annualized revenues of $100 billion to $120 billion by end of 2026, an entirely fictional statement made with the intent of pumping their bags, with the FT, for whatever reason, printing it with little pushback. Yet what’s likely far-scarier for OpenAI is that even Anthropic’s pre-IPO marketing has a whiff of desperation. A Reuters report from late last week that feels precision-engineered to manipulate dimwitted investors said that “Wall Street [was] looking further into the future than it ​commonly does to put a price on the AI company, valuing it based on how much revenue it could generate two years from now,” adding that it was “projecting revenue of roughly $190 billion to $200 billion.”  This was arguably the worst part: While I imagine the writer in question believed that this was being “fair” and “objective,” this paragraph exists only to manufacture consent for a company that clearly has questionable economics. “Current EBITDA does not ​fully capture the economics investors expect the company ​to achieve at scale” is a euphemism for “ignore your lying eyes,” a plea with the audience to not judge a company based on its actual business but on a theoretical business that, to quote Reuters, have “...training and inference [costs] become more efficient as technology improves, while personnel and other operating costs ​could become a smaller share of revenue as the company scales.” Could, could, could, could, could, could could COULD! It’s always a bloody could or will or might with these fucking companies, and it’s astonishingly bad journalism to see it as an “objective” choice to vaguely say that a company should not be evaluated based on its actual business but on some theoretical business that they might build in the future where the economics are completely different.   The reason I bring up the noises coming from the manufacturing consent machine is that if Anthropic beats OpenAI to an IPO, I cannot see a viable (or reasonable) path for Sam Altman to float his nasty little company. The fact that the Financial Times and Reuters are already being co-opted into softening the blow is a sign that Anthropic’s S-1 will look and smell like the inside of a tauntaun , and Anthropic is, from the reporting I’ve read, in a much better condition than OpenAI, if only because it didn’t have multiple side quests involving video generation or browsers or smart speakers , though both companies love to give away $20 to $40 for $1 .  Put simply, if Anthropic goes public with its own horrifying economics on parade, it’s hard to imagine OpenAI — a company that lost $20.9 billion in 2025 on $13.07 billion in revenue — will fare much better.  After all, Anthropic just hit, per Bloomberg, $65 billion in annualized run rate — a month multiplied by 12, or four weeks multiplied by 13, I’m guessing, because it never defines this number — in May 2026, and OpenAI is “on track” to hit $40 billion annualized revenue …in the middle of August.  We are, of course, in the era of madness, so I’ve already read three or four people on Twitter say that OpenAI’s actual annualized revenue is so much higher , because they’ve heard stuff from people they trust . The AI industry’s loudest advocates think and act like cultists at the end of a doomsday prophecy, except instead of the world ending , OpenAI and Anthropic become the largest companies — or in the case of giga-oaf hedgie Gavin Baker, the only companies — in the world, rewarding all those who believed with… something. Glory? Smugness? Salvation?  In any case, OpenAI has a real problem if Anthropic beats it to the markets.  On October 31, 2025, a flustered Sam Altman told booster and investor Brad Gertsner that OpenAI would make “well more than $13 billion” in revenue that year before saying he’d “find a buyer for his shares.” In the end, per my own reporting , “well more” would mean “$70 million,” with OpenAI making $13.07 billion in revenue in 2025, with SoftBank accounting for $862 million. A week later on November 6, CNBC would report that OpenAI was “on track” to generate “more than” $20 billion in annualized revenue. OpenAI works out its annualized revenue by multiplying its most-recent four-week-long period by 12, which means that in a four-week-long period it had $1.66 billion in revenue, I guess?  On March 4, 2026, The Information would report that OpenAI had “topped” $25 billion in annualized revenue after hitting $21.4 billion at the end of 2025, and included the following hilarious line: Yeah man, this is why using annualized revenue is such a stupid idea. If you have a particularly-busy four-week-long period — like a product launch with a big social media push — you can use that period to inflate your revenues, which is exactly what OpenAI is doing, as evidenced by the sources (who I assume work at OpenAI) saying that’s exactly what they’re doing. Annualized revenues are not a useful way of measuring these companies’ financial condition, and exist only as a form of marketing, made worse by the fact that AI token spend is not a recurring source of revenue. While you could theoretically use annualized revenue as a directional bit of data if it was just two companies selling ( subsidized ) subscriptions, the ability for these companies to cherry-pick periods of time that might be inflated by aberrations ( like when someone spent $500 million on Claude tokens by accident ) makes these numbers somewhere between useless and actively harmful to investors. Even then , it took OpenAI seven months to be “on track” to reach an annualized revenue run rate ($40 billion) that was seven billion dollars smaller than Anthropic’s ($47 billion) from May , and a full $25 billion in run rate less than what it hit at the end of July.  Perhaps it’s a coincidence, but it’s also worth noting that the news about OpenAI’s exciting new annualized revenue “leaked” mere hours after the abrupt resignation of its Chief Revenue Officer .  The reason that OpenAI (and Anthropic, for that matter) wants you to think about things in terms of “annualized revenue” is because its actual revenues look a little tame compared to its commitments and burn rate. The Information reports that in Q1 2026, OpenAI burned $12.1 billion on “cost of revenue” and training on $5.7 billion in revenue, though it left out the sales and marketing segment where OpenAI burned $5.73 billion in 2025 — or, put another way, OpenAI spent $12.1 billion on compute to lose $6.4 billion, and that doesn’t include things like data costs or salaries or, well, anything. OpenAI (and by proxy The Information) somehow rationalizes this to only be a burn of $3.7 billion, likely using the same accounting bullshit that it did in the financials I saw . Now, some of you might read that and say “wow, $5.7 billion is a lot of money!” but it doesn’t matter, because the more money OpenAI makes, the more its services cost. This is not difficult mathematics, but it is something that continues to escape the vast majority of coverage of the company, I assume because all of this feels a little insane when you think about it. I know you’re gonna call me a firebrand or a hater or a skeptic or try to capture me and put me in a zoo, but I must be clear that OpenAI has set expectations — and made commitments — that range from ridiculous to outright impossible. To get really specific: For any of these things to happen, OpenAI will have to grow at a staggering pace, and effectively (per The Information’s reported projections) 10x its revenue between now and the end of 2030. OpenAI’s projections have it near-tripling its 2025 revenues, doubling its 2026 revenues, nearly doubling its 2027 revenues, growing its 2028 revenues by 68%, and then growing its 2029 revenues by 64%. At the end of this magical mystery tour through revenue hallucinations, OpenAI will have it making more than NVIDIA did in Fiscal Year 2026 ( $215.9 billion ) and, somehow, becoming profitable: I realize that many people have been conditioned by the tech industry to believe that every idea that a tech CEO has will always become reality, but the sheer scale of what OpenAI is both promising and obligated to do outpaces anything in modern history. While much of what I’m saying is also true of Anthropic, ( a company that itself has over $300 billion in commitments due in the next three years and is similarly-unprofitable) OpenAI has decidedly failed to play catchup at a time when enterprise customers see costs as a “ huge issue ,” which also makes it unlikely that ( along with recent model price cuts ) it will magically re-accelerate outside of allowing users to burn $14,000 a month in tokens for $200 , which…also didn’t work well enough to get close. In any case, any acceleration of revenues would also be an acceleration of costs, which will mean OpenAI will need several more $122 billion rounds from a dwindling pile of investor capital. SoftBank can quite literally not afford to invest anything further, with liquidity becoming so tight that it’s had to take out a $10 billion loan collateralized by its entire OpenAI holdings , with NVIDIA CEO Jensen Huang saying that its $30 billion investment from this year likely being its last . While various different venture capitalist paypigs may have some interest in funding it further, OpenAI will need more than it last asked for, without fail, every single year. So, there’re really only two eventualities: This, again, is not me being a firebrand, but taking a relatively-clinical look at the hard numbers and asking how the fuck it affords it all. And man, does a lot of shit have to go right. Per my last premium newsletter, OpenAI needs at least $800 billion to meet its commitments in the next three-and-a-half years , based on both the Wall Street Journal’s report on its projected $750 billion in compute spend through 2030 and an analysis of analyst notes on Broadcom, Microsoft, Google, Amazon, and CoreWeave. The problem, however, is that much of this money will come due through the end of 2027, and require at least one more massive round of funding.  To get specific: Now, all of this is contingent on Google, Microsoft, Amazon and Oracle building enough capacity to capture that revenue, but if we assume that happens, OpenAI needs more than $147 billion just to handle its expected compute commitments through the end of 2027.  Here’re some other costs that aren’t included: With its IPO likely delayed — if it ever happens — until 2027, OpenAI will almost-certainly have to raise another round of funding by March 2027, likely at a similar scale to its $122 billion round from March of this year . The biggest problem that OpenAI has is that $110 billion of its last $122 billion round was made up of Amazon ($50 billion), NVIDIA ($30 billion), and SoftBank ($30 billion), leaving a mere $12 billion funded by a primordial soup of different venture capitalists, private credit funds, and public endowments that should have their executives fired, ideally into the sun. In any case, $12 billion isn’t enough to cover a single quarter’s compute costs. The point I’m making is that raising further rounds — before we get to any niggling problems about valuation — has already become near-impossible to do without the help of massive entities that are showing increasing signs of strain at exactly the moment OpenAI needs more money. Let’s break it down. As mentioned previously, SoftBank is running at the very edges of its liquidity, and owes another $10 billion due on October 1, 2026 . While in theory it could sell more of its ARM stock to fund further rounds, said stock makes up effectively all of its Net Asset Value , and while further margin loans are possible , doing so would put genuine pressure on ARM’s stock price as, well, at some point you’re not just investing in a company but whether SoftBank might use its stock like a piggy bank.  A few weeks ago, Amazon sent the remaining $35 billion of its $50 billion investment as part of the larger round , and while it’s theoretically possible that it could invest more, its free cash flow has now gone negative , and it needs as much money as possible to meet its (agh!) projected $220 billion in 2026 capital expenditures . Google is a potential investor, as I’m not sure people realize how big a Google Cloud customer OpenAI has become, with Stephen Ju of UBS estimating it will spend $9.375 billion in 2026 and $12.5 billion in 2027, and Google Cloud increasingly becoming Google’s largest growth vehicle . Then again, Google’s free cash flow also went negative in its latest quarterly earnings , and even the most braindead of investors are becoming a little nervous about how circular everything is looking. NVIDIA could, in theory, afford to invest more, but the markets are even more nervous about its slow transformation into GE Capital . Jensen Huang is clearly aware of this, which is why his “backstop” of a “10GW” data center in Ohio (which OpenAI has signed a 20-year-long lease to rent) isn’t actually backstopping OpenAI’s compute spend, but the underlying assets in the event of a short sale: That’s a pretty big “if,” because it refers to 5GW of theoretical capacity built by a company that has never built a data center, at a time when the nearest equivalent — Stargate Abilene, at 1.2GW — is two years in and has only finished three out of eight of the buildings. Based on this description of the deal, NVIDIA only has to guarantee things in the event the data center is actually built. As part of the deal, NVIDIA is investing $1.5 billion in SB Energy, a company invested in by both OpenAI and SoftBank that is trying to go public some time this year , likely as a means of adding further liquidity to SoftBank’s balance sheet, though the IPO would only raise, per Reuters , between $5 billion and $7 billion. OpenAI has already, across multiple funding rounds, raised from private credit funds from Blackstone, BlackRock, and Insight Partners, and it’s possible that these same funds could fuse together like Voltron as a means of keeping OpenAI alive. That being said, we’re talking about over $100 billion a year for the foreseeable future, which is a little more than they could stomach on a private company with ultra-negative margins and a younger competitor currently eating its lunch.  Then there’s another problem: that private credit is already having trouble funding AI data centers , which are a (theoretically) far-more-stable investment in infrastructure and power. When NVIDIA announced its “$500 billion” fund, the media was quick to assume that it had already closed the money, rather than it actually being a “ memorandum of understanding ,” also known as “a non-binding agreement to maybe do something in the future.” Yet a follow-up from Bloomberg found that it was even less than nothing , and that Jensen Huang had insisted on making the announcement despite months of slow progress: The reason I bring this up is that if private credit funds are having trouble funding data centers, they’re going to have a shit-ton of trouble convincing investors to pile into an unprofitable second-place AI lab run by a uniquely-unlikeable CEO who has a penchant for lying . As mentioned earlier, OpenAI (and Anthropic) have scraped the bottom of the barrel of venture capital time and time again, and never managed to raise more than $30 billion at a time.  The sheer volume of names on these deals suggests that it’s genuinely very difficult to mobilize this much capital, and I think it’ll become difficult-to-impossible to do this every single year, even if Anthropic were to go public, as it’s very unlikely that the majority of these investors will actually be able to liquidate their holdings. And remember, we’re talking about OpenAI here — stinky, expensive, second-place OpenAI, the one with all the obligations, the one with the CEO that wants to surveil everything his customers do . The one that has raised no more than $12 billion of funding from sources outside of NVIDIA, SoftBank, Microsoft or Amazon. That one.  There’re really two major problems: OpenAI’s $122 billion funding round valued it at $852 billion. And, per the New York Times , advisers pushed back on the idea of trying to go public at a $1 trillion valuation: For some perspective, a $1 trillion valuation would be around a 15% premium, for a company that now accounts for 70% of Microsoft’s AI revenues and allegedly is the single-most-important startup since Google or Facebook.  Sorry, I’ll stop vagueposting: this is bad. For a company of this scale and importance, OpenAI should’ve waltzed into a $2 trillion valuation, except a public offering requires you to provide audited financial statements and an explanation of why your company is worth that much that goes a little further than an investor deck with annualized run rates and charts that promise the world. The problem here is that if OpenAI can’t go public at even a trillion dollar valuation , it’s unclear why anyone would invest at $865 billion, or $800 billion, or even $700 billion, unless they happened to believe that it would go public at less than a trillion then magically become worth trillions more, somehow. The ability for any investor at this point to make a significant return is very, very small, made smaller by the fact that Anthropic appears to actually be meeting with investors for an IPO and is showing revenue growth… …except even then, AI bulls are nervous, because $65 billion in annualized revenue (at the end of July) was lower than some forecasts , with market intelligence firm Yipit claiming it had hit $74.3 billion on July 22 , causing confusing feelings in the minds and bowels of boosters that had expectations set by, I imagine, a combination of black magic and black mold. While Anthropic CFO Krishna Rao has not been discussing valuations at early IPO meetings , investors and analysts are either expecting or wishcasting that it hits a $2 trillion valuation , though if OpenAI can’t get a trillion, it’s hard to see how Anthropic — a business of larger-yet-comparable size and equally-rotten economics — would somehow double that and, I assume, then some.  Seeing all of this, why would any venture capitalist with a working brain still invest in OpenAI at anything close to an $865 billion valuation? While current investors might follow on as a means of keeping the company afloat, at some point their limited partners might ask reasonable questions like “how do you intend to make us money?” This is a problem already hitting Thrive, which has invested billions in OpenAI. Per Bloomberg : That’s right folks, if you invested in Thrive’s 2022 growth-stage fund, you’ve made 30 cents on the dollar, with much of it tied up in OpenAI.  While I’m not denying it’s possible , limited partners have their limits — especially as funds from Sequoia and other venture capital firms underperform the S&P 500. And, not to repeat myself too much, OpenAI needs so much more money! It needs at least $100 billion a year, or it’s toast! The collapse of OpenAI would likely be a result of the walls closing in around its ruinous obligations and economics, with counterparties left short-changed and deals broken as things begin to unravel. It starts, as obvious as it sounds, with OpenAI running short on funds, and we’ve already seen one sign that had happened with Amazon “completing” its $50 billion investment in the company a few weeks ago by sending another $35 billion. To be explicit, that $35 billion was rumored to be contingent on OpenAI either going public or reaching AGI , though all that was said in the funding announcement was that it was contingent on “certain conditions being met.” Nevertheless, Amazon didn’t decide to send $35 billion out of the goodness of its heart, or because it thought OpenAI was such a wonderful company — if I had to guess, it’s because OpenAI needed that money to pay for its compute costs, an estimated $9 billion of which flow through Amazon Web Services.  The fact that OpenAI needed $35 billion mere months after receiving at least $40 billion ( and barely a month after getting another $10 billion from SoftBank ) suggests that either  compute pre-payment costs are brutal or OpenAI is absolutely annihilating cash at a rate unforeseen in the history of capitalism.  Whatever the reason, OpenAI clearly needs tens of billions of dollars every few months to keep up with its costs, and will only need more money as it “grows” — by which I mean has to pre-pay for compute costs for Amazon, Google, Microsoft, CoreWeave, Oracle, and Cerebras. While it’s foolhardy to say when OpenAI might collapse (don’t I know it!) its collapse will come from the most obvious place — when it’s required to pony up a bunch of money without a means of raising more funding.  When you take a step back, OpenAI has had to raise funding near-perpetually since its $6.6 billion round closed in October 2024 on top of a $4.4 billion credit facility . On December 27 2024, OpenAI would say in a blog post that it needed “more capital than it imagined,” and would begin talks a mere month later in January 2025 to raise another round of $40 billion that would “close” on March 31 2025 , though it would only raise $10 billion at first from SoftBank (with $2.5 billion of that from a syndicated group of investors). Five months later in August 2025, OpenAI would raise another $8.3 billion “as part of” the round from a group of venture capitalists and asset managers , sell another $6.6 billion of internally-held shares to investors in October 2025 , and by the middle of December 2025 was already rumoured to be raising another $100 billion , just before getting another $22.5 billion from SoftBank on December 31 2025 . While we know OpenAI ended 2025 with about $25 billion in cash , The Information was able to update us that it had around $73 billion in cash and “marketable securities” at the end of Q1 2026 , which likely includes at least $35 billion from Amazon, NVIDIA and SoftBank, though for whatever reason the reporter refused to break out the cash part. Nevertheless, this means that OpenAI’s actual cash position looked better only by virtue of an influx of capital , and whatever happened to the company in Q2 2026 meant it needed another $45 billion (Amazon plus SoftBank, and maybe another $10 billion from NVIDIA, as it’s unclear how that whole thing was amortized). What I’m getting at is that at some point in the next three months, OpenAI is going to need more money, likely tens of billions of dollars, especially as it enters new fiscal years for Google, Amazon, and CoreWeave, all three of which will likely require up-front payments for capacity that OpenAI does not have.  And, as I’ve repeatedly said, OpenAI needs to keep raising money because its costs increase with its revenues, and it has no clear path to either reducing them or increasing prices, as it found when it (and Anthropic) moved enterprise customers onto accounts that required them to pay the actual cost of their AI services . None of this has much to do with my feelings about AI, and far more to do with basic mathematics. OpenAI has no economies of scale, it’s horribly-unprofitable, and does not have a stable business. This naturally means that it has to continually raise capital, except raising further capital is going to be difficult, based on the sheer amounts it needs, the dwindling funds available for it to raise, its already-inflated valuation, and the fact that it’s way behind a competitor facing exactly the same problems. OpenAI has promised the impossible, and built a company that only makes sense if you’re willing to ignore the worst economics in the history of capitalism. Its future is dependent on raising over a hundred billion dollars a year in one of the worst funding climates in history. Its revenues are slowing, its competitor (and there’s really only one) has outpaced it (all while slowing itself), and its CEO is one of the single-worst spokespeople in history.  However you may feel, it’s impossible to argue with the logic that OpenAI is going to need more money by the end of the year — likely tens of billions of dollars — and that money will have to come from somewhere. It could be from Google, or Amazon, or even Meta. It could be from SpaceX, though Musk would have to hold his nose a little. It could be from Microsoft. It could be from a last gasp telethon of venture capitalists coming together to prop it up one last time. But it’s gotta come from somewhere. And at some point, OpenAI will simply not be able to pay its bills, or more precisely, it will have to hand over money to somebody who will not accept equity or IOUs in return. Whoever it is that refuses that deal will be the one that pulls the trigger, and sends OpenAI’s body to the glue factory. So, as much as I have talked about OpenAI’s death , its apocalypse could arrive in many different forms, but likely starts (as I just said) with it someone asking OpenAI for some real, non-circular dollars, only for Sam Altman to look at them like this: But the first place to look for the end is OpenAI’s revenue growth. To compete with Anthropic, it will have to hit $60 billion in annualized revenue (I’m so fucking tired of annualized revenues ) within the next three months. The first domino to fall will be them either missing this target or seeing revenues regress — if they haven’t already done so, of course, given that OpenAI measures run rate based entirely on a hand-selected four-week-long period.  All that it takes is a little stank of regression for the market to get nervous.  It’s inevitable, at this point, that both Anthropic and OpenAI’s revenue growth slows, if only because both of them have only got this far through a combination of subsidized subscriptions and companies burning millions on token-maxxing initiatives that will have petered out by the end of the year. OpenAI has spent a little over a year trying to play catch-up on the enterprise — a strategy led by now-departed COO Brad Lightcap — only to find that customers are becoming cost-conscious at exactly the time they need to be spending more. To make matters worse, Ramp found that customers have been slow to adopt Anthropic’s more-expensive “Fable” model because of the price, meaning there’s effectively no way to jack up prices. I imagine Anthropic’s interest in bumrushing for a September IPO is an attempt to avoid investors seeing post-tokenmaxxing deceleration. In doing so, it’ll put OpenAI in a brutal position of having to defend itself against both its own and Anthropic’s economics at the same time.  So, the thing to watch out for is any sign of deceleration, which could mean outright “run rates have dropped,” to lower burn on OpenRouter, to more price cuts, to any kind of attempts by OpenAI to offer discounted tokens if bought in bulk.  Then, at some point, the money will stop flowing to somebody. The problem about guessing who that might be is how much of the AI bubble is held up by OpenAI’s revenues. Microsoft, Google, and Amazon all have vested interests — literally and figuratively — in at least appearing to get paid by OpenAI, which means they’re likely work with it on deferred payments and/or equity shares in trade, likely instituting some sort of bastardization of the already-problematic “ payment-in-kind ” system used by private credit when it can’t afford it loans.  CoreWeave could be a place to look, with its largest customers being Microsoft (for OpenAI), OpenAI, NVIDIA, Google (for OpenAI), and Anthropic. While Microsoft and Google are unlikely to stop paying their bills due to OpenAI lacking the cash, OpenAI is allowed to pay its bills Net 360 , meaning that if CoreWeave’s cashflow suddenly starts sagging despite revenues growing, it’s potentially because of Sam Altman stapling IOUs to Michael Intrator’s car along with a note that says “ I’m sorry. I can’t. Don’t hate me .” Cerebras — which gets somewhere between 50% and 70% of its revenues from its OpenAI contract — would be another place to look. If revenues (or cashflows) fail to materialize, it could be another sign that OpenAI is unable to pay its bills. Other obvious signs would involve changes in guidance across any major hyperscaler, especially Oracle, Microsoft, Google or Amazon — specifically language suggesting that OpenAI’s revenue either isn’t real or isn’t arriving.  I also, to be clear, expect some sort of fundraising, likely heavily-funded by asset managers, with the potential for NVIDIA to break its pledge and invest again as a means of keeping the party going. Despite OpenAI’s lousy financial condition, its existence is critical to the entire AI industry, representing the majority of compute demand across effectively every provider, which will mean everybody will probably try and chuck a few dollars its way. This could take the form of a suicide round (valuing it at or above the $965 billion valuation from Anthropic’s Series G round ) or a brutal downround of around $800 billion, justified as ‘technically higher’ than the $730 billion pre-money valuation it got when NVIDIA, Amazon and SoftBank last invested .  I could also see it taking a doomed run at a public offering — especially if Altman somehow pushes out CFO Sarah Friar, who had previously said it wasn’t ready for IPO and got rewarded for her honesty by being made to report to “CEO of Applications” Fiji Simo, who left the company in July due to medical issues but for whatever reason remains active behind the scenes, per the FT .  Going public is a terrible, awful decision, which is why I’m increasingly-confident that Altman would consider it, especially if there’s demand for liquidity from investors. OpenAI, despite its prominent in the industry and load-bearing compute spend, is in a desperate and untenable position made worse by a competitor that worked out how to swindle enterprise customers that don’t know how to measure their token spend at a much-larger scale, and without something completely-unexpected, it’s unclear how it pulls itself out. When things get rough, expect Altman to make comments about the challenges of building the future, criticizing those who are “endlessly negative” about AI and set "unrealistic expectations” from a man who said that OpenAI is close to creating a genie that can grant any wish . He will blame everybody — critics, the financial markets, journalists, ex-employees, Elon Musk, Dario Amodei, counterparties that “don’t understand what innovation demands,” venture capitalists, Twitter posters, and basically anybody other than Sam Altman, the guy who made hundreds of billions of dollars’ worth of commitments to the largest companies in the world with little or no plan as to how he might do so. OpenAI’s actual death could take a few forms, each of them fairly destructive.  In the event this happened, Microsoft’s first move would be to cancel effectively all cloud contracts that OpenAI has, and have to restate guidance to remove the $250 billion in “ incremental Azure spend ” it promised. There isn’t a chance in Hell that Satya (if he’s allowed to stay) is going to give Google, Oracle or Amazon hundreds of billions of dollars, even if it means taking massive impairments on GPUs. In this scenario, Microsoft would potentially strip back (or entirely eliminate) the free ChatGPT product, and likely either tighten rate limits or move everybody on a ChatGPT Plus or Pro subscription to token-based billing, much as it did with GitHub Copilot in June .  While I imagine some rescue package is pulled together, OpenAI could simply be allowed to run out of money, short-changing nearly a trillion dollars’ worth of compute contracts, killing CoreWeave, Cerebras, and anyone else reliant on its income. Its customers would be given API keys that flow to Microsoft AI Foundry, Amazon Bedrock and Google Vertex, and be told that there would be little or no further development or training of OpenAI’s models. This situation, while obviously destructive for the entire industry, would give everybody a scapegoat. Who made all the promises? Sam Altman. Who ran a shitty company into the ground? Sam Altman. Who misled everyone into believing that there’d be infinite demand for compute? Sam Altman. Stories will leak that OpenAI was “not consistently candid” with its financial condition with partners, allowing everybody to reframe a trillion-plus dollars in waste as the result of one egregious con artist. To be clear, the person to blame is Satya Nadella. He’s the one that made the initial investment, bought all the GPUs, and then kept buying them the second that ChatGPT took off. He’s the one that’s misled investors about the concentration of Microsoft’s AI revenue. If there’s an opportunity for him to lump all of the blame on Altman, he’ll take it, as will Jensen Huang, Andy Jassy, and Sundar Pichai, even if he’s relatively quiet about OpenAI’s billions in contributions to Google Cloud.  At 70% of Microsoft’s AI revenues largely from its tens of billions of dollars’ worth of compute spend, OpenAI will represent a material drop in hyperscaler revenues, and somebody will have to be blamed. It won’t matter that Anthropic is just as unprofitable or made hundreds of billions of dollars’ worth of promises it also can’t keep. OpenAI will make a fitting punching bag, a well-deserved one. I know, I know. Sam and Dario won’t even hold hands at an event . They hate each other. They both are vacuous psuedo-intellectuals desperate for attention.  Yet in a moment of desperation, OpenAI could turn to Anthropic for a lifeline — a choice merger that would pump both of their bags , all while allowing Altman and his cronies to escape blame. The united entity would likely be worth over $2 trillion, if only because of its combined customer base and theoretical “reach,” even if thinking about that for even a second makes it sound so unfathomably stupid, as said “reach” would come with multiplicative financial issues stemming from OpenAI’s lousy economics meshing with the equally-crap numbers underlying Anthropic. That being said, in a desperate moment, this unity could also justify further investment from hyperscalers, venture capitalists and asset managers, giving them all something to point money at and say “this is the future of computing.” I think it’s very unlikely this happens, and if it does, it would be ruinous for everybody involved. Neither of these companies make any kind of economic sense to anyone outside of the recently-concussed and AI boosters with dichromatic vision. Combining them would only create a much larger, uglier problem — one that would carry with it the very same problems that both companies have, compounded by the expectation that it would become the literal savior of the entire tech industry. The following is an objective list of what OpenAI has to do by 2030: OpenAI is currently “approaching” $40 billion in annualized revenue, at precisely the time it needs to be accelerating. This company needs to leave 2026 at somewhere in the region of $75 billion in annualized revenue to have even a snowball’s chance of paying its ridiculous compute costs, and even then I’m not sure how it possible keeps up with the (at least) $146 billion in compute bills it’s got coming up.  It’s time for everybody to start having a real, meaningful conversation about what happens if OpenAI dies. This company has remained economically unstable since I started writing about it in November 2023, and while I might have underestimated its staying power, nothing has changed about my larger thesis that this company is headed for perdition, leaving its counterparties unpaid and alone with the consequences to follow. Said consequences, as I outlined in the OpenAI Bubble , are very, very serious, representing an existential threat to SoftBank, one of the largest companies on the Japanese stock market, and its collapse will guarantee massive changes to the guidance of some of the largest companies in the world. There is a very real scenario in which nobody left with OpenAI stock is able to reach a liquidity event , which means the tens of billions of dollars of venture capital will remain unlocked and zeroed out unless it can go public, which is increasingly-unlikely.  It is no longer rational or reasonable to avoid discussing what happens if OpenAI dies. It’s a situation that should be on the mind of every journalist, analyst and investor, even if they don’t think it’s certain, because OpenAI is both horrendously unprofitable and has made commitments so significant that they now represent at least 20% of hyperscaler cloud revenues in the coming years, if not more like 30% to 40%.  It is actively irresponsible to ignore this situation any longer, and I encourage my peers, analysts, journalists, economists and investors to start seriously considering the likelihood and ramifications of the death of OpenAI.  For me to be wrong, in the space of three years OpenAI will have to become a company with annual revenues higher than Meta ( $200 billion , versus projections of $284 billion in revenue in 2030) and meet obligations ($800 billion+) 27% larger than the combined revenues of NVIDIA ( $215.9 billion), TSMC ( $122 billion ) and Samsung ( $270 billion ).  OpenAI doesn’t have to be illegal to be dangerous. Every time consent is manufactured for the astonishing waste and unrealistic promises of Sam Altman, companies further leverage themselves in an attempt to capture its theoretical value, and investors are further manipulated into supporting an industry almost-entirely founded on its compute spend.  As I discussed in the OpenAI Bubble , its collapse will have now-unavoidable economic consequences. The death of SoftBank is a very real possibility. The likelihood of the vast majority of AI investments going to zero is much, much higher than anyone wants to think about, at a time when, per Bloomberg , a venture capital firm that returns thirty centers on the dollar is considered an above-top-five performer. Oracle will collapse without OpenAI’s revenue .  To not actively and meaningfully discuss the potential for OpenAI to collapse is actively irresponsible. To act like there are not significant, existential problems with this company’s economics is to intentionally avoid reality, and whoever is on the receiving end of said ignorance deserves better, be they an investor reading your analyst note or a reader burdened with incomplete journalism. What follows may be an Enron-Lehman Brothers hybrid, one that leaves unbelievable destruction in its wake, an avoidable systemic risk empowered and enabled by a kneecapped media industry and sell-side analysts incapable of seeing further than two quarters in the future.  In the end, there is no avoiding the damage that OpenAI’s collapse will create. The time to do that was in 2024, before it made all those commitments, and raised so much more money. Once it did so, it led the entire industry to believe that there was significant demand for AI, when all that was happening was Sam Altman and Dario Amodei were taking up every ounce of compute capacity, paid for with equity investments from the companies they bought it from, an illusion created by men driven mad by their desperation for hypergrowth .  However you feel about my work, I am begging you to take even the prospect of OpenAI’s collapse seriously, and prepare accordingly.  If you liked this piece, you should subscribe to my premium newsletter. It’s $70 a year , $17 a quarter , or $7 a month , and in return you get a weekly newsletter that’s usually anywhere from 10,000 to 18,000 words and provides vast, detailed analyses of the biggest events and companies in the AI bubble. If you want to get in touch — and especially if you have any juicy information about Anthropic, OpenAI, or any other companies in the AI bubble — hit me up on Signal at ezitron.76. I’m also on IB on The Terminal. For OpenAI to meet its compute obligations, it needs to have both the demand necessary and more than $800 billion in cash (or, alternatively, the ability to trade stock for compute, which it’s done in the past). For OpenAI to continue as an ongoing concern, it has to, at some point, work out a way to become profitable.  It is unclear how it (or Anthropic) manages to do this. The Information reports estimates that OpenAI will go from negative $51 billion in free cash flow in 2029 to positive $39 billion in 2030. I’ll share the chart below. For OpenAI to actually survive , it will have to raise between $100 billion and $200 billion basically every year until then. For OpenAI to go public, it will need to have numbers that are competitive — both in revenues and losses — with Anthropic, a company with significantly-faster growth and a larger enterprise customer base.  OpenAI becomes the literal largest and most-successful company of all time. OpenAI runs out of money at some point. I estimate that, based on analyst notes from Wells Fargo, that OpenAI is on the hook for around $87.5 billion in Broadcom chips across Fiscal Years 2027, 2028 and 2029.  I have not included these in the total, because it’s unclear how much OpenAI is actually on the hook for. The Information reported a few months ago that both Broadcom and Microsoft would be financing the chips. It’s unclear whether OpenAI would be on the hook for ongoing payments as Anthropic is under its $35 billion, private-credit funded deal to buy Google TPUs and then rent them back from Google .  Per analyst notes from Wells Fargo, UBS and Barclays, OpenAI alone is expected to account for over $126 billion of Google, Amazon and Microsoft’s cloud revenues in the next year-and-a-half. The reason for the odd year-and-a-half designation is that Microsoft’s Fiscal Year 2027 runs July 1 2026 through June 30 2027). This analysis also assumes that OpenAI will spend a linear $40.1 billion (per Wells Fargo estimates) on Microsoft Azure in Fiscal Years 2027 and 2028. In all likelihood, its deal and commitments will require it to spend more. This doesn’t count what OpenAI will need to pay CoreWeave as part of its five-year-long, $22.4 billion deal . Though the estimate is from December 2025, Michael Turrin of Wells Fargo estimates that OpenAI’s contribution to Oracle’s Fiscal Year 2027 (which just started on June 1 2026) will be around $10 billion, then rising to $39 billion in Fiscal Year 2028. I think a fair estimate here is to put this at around $20 billion. Any and all costs associated with its still-theoretical $30 billion development in Georgia . Any and all costs associated with the launch of its consumer device. Salaries for its thousands of employees. The billions of dollars that OpenAI spends on data to train its models. Its compute costs with CoreWeave. Its compute costs with Cerebras ( $20 billion over three years ). $30 billion of OpenAI’s $40 billion 2025 funding round came from SoftBank. Anthropic’s $30 billion funding round from February 2026 involved an estimated $10 billion from NVIDIA and $5 billion from Microsoft , with the remaining $15 billion or so covered by thirty-seven different venture capital and private credit funds, including hedge fund Jane Street. Anthropic’s $65 billion funding round from May 2026 included $10 billion from Google and $5 billion from Amazon , as well as funding from Micron. Out of the 28 investors, only 8 were venture capital firms, with the rest made up of a mixture of hedge funds, asset managers, sovereign wealth funds and investment firms.  While venture capital might want to invest in OpenAI, actually mobilizing more than a few billion dollars is very difficult. OpenAI’s valuation is just too gosh darn high. Reach $284 billion in annual revenue. Pay $800 billion or more in compute obligations. In doing so, OpenAI must become one of the largest customers of Amazon Web Services, Microsoft Azure and Google Cloud, all at the same time, and continue to grow its spend. Become profitable.  OpenAI lost $20.9 billion in 2025 . If you are going to look at this and say “actually it didn’t” because of its Enrontastic accounting treatment, I also need to warn you — that identical guy in the bathroom is actually a thing called a “mirror,” a reflective surface that is showing you a reflection of you, not another person who is dressed like you and copies everything you do. I can’t imagine how scared you’ve been, and hope this has helped.  As of Q1 2026, it has a non-GAAP operating margin of negative 122% .

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Premium: How Much Money Does AI Need?

I’ve heard from people in the past that my articles are too long, and I wanted to start by saying that, for the most part, they’re going to stay long, because I feel like the only way for me to make my arguments is to be as specific and detailed as possible about the things I’m talking about.  Then again, sometimes it’s just because I imagine arguments against my work in my head and want to pre-empt them. Something about the AI bubble has made the boosters genuinely insane. They see these otherworldly declarations — hundreds of billions or trillions of dollars — and assume that nobody would say them in bad faith, and that the tech industry would never fail to live up to them, even though we’re barely a few years divorced from when Mark Zuckerberg burned $80 billion on the metaverse , what will one day be known as “the second-worst misallocation of capital in corporate history.” When the boosters  hear that OpenAI plans to spend $750 billion on compute costs through the end of 2030 , they shrug their shoulders and say “it’ll work it out.” When they hear that hyperscalers have $1.65 trillion in off-balance-sheet obligations and debt , they nod approvingly, saying that “these are some of the richest and most-profitable companies in the world,” and that they will “simply keep raising debt.” It’s somewhere between number-blindness and make-believe — these are such unfathomably-large sums that it’s hard for the average person to assume anything other than that nobody would sign contracts agreeing to pay them without the confidence they’d be able to do so, even though it’s all very silly. In any case, readers, I hear you , and today’s premium newsletter is going to be a shorter one, because it’s been an incredibly long week for me, including a day that started at 5AM with four different interviews — including my appearance on CNBC, which I encourage you to watch — that ended roughly 14 hours later, which means I’m a little depleted but nevertheless dedicated to you, the reader, and giving you value for your subscription. So today I’m going to be pithier, and focus on hard numbers and harder truths about the AI industry, and specifically seek to answer a question: how much does the AI industry actually need by 2030?  To be specific, I’m going to be focusing on the next three fiscal years for the companies that matter — the lead hyperscalers (Meta, Google, Microsoft, Amazon, Oracle), the two leading semiconductor firms making AI chips (NVIDIA, Broadcom), the main neoclouds (CoreWeave, Nebius, IREN, which I’ll cover in short), the main AI labs (OpenAI, Anthropic, and SpaceX) and the overall AI compute industry.  I’ve spent a great deal of time in the last few years explaining in detail why I think this will all collapse, but today’s goal is to show you, in hard numbers, exactly how much money the main players in AI need, based on consensus analyst estimates and my own research. And god damn, do they need a lot.

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Don't Look Up

If you liked this piece, you should subscribe to my premium newsletter. It’s $70 a year, or $7 a month, and in return you get a weekly newsletter that’s usually anywhere from 5,000 to 18,000 words, including vast, detailed analyses of NVIDIA , Anthropic and OpenAI’s finances , and the AI bubble writ large . My Hater's Guides To the SaaSpocalypse , Private Credit and Private Equity are essential to understanding our current financial system, and my guide to how OpenAI Kills Oracle pairs nicely with my Hater's Guide To Oracle, as well as the Hater’s Guide To Oracle (Part 2). Subscribing to premium is both great value and makes it possible to write these large, deeply-researched free pieces every week. On Friday, I'm going to pull together exactly how much money is needed to keep the AI bubble inflated in the next three years. It's gonna be a laugh-riot. Or very scary, one of the two. If you want to get in touch — and especially if you have any juicy information about Anthropic, OpenAI, or any other companies in the AI bubble — hit me up on Signal at ezitron.76. I’m also on IB on The Terminal.  Last week I put out one of the most consequential newsletters I’ve written yet , pulling together multiple distinct financial analyst notes from Wells Fargo, Barclays, and UBS that directly estimated that 70% or more of the AI revenues of Microsoft, Google, and Amazon were from either OpenAI or Anthropic. To be clear, UBS estimated that next year, Anthropic and OpenAI’s compute spend would be 48% of all Google Cloud revenues — which means that they likely account for even more than 70% of its AI revenues, but I wanted to be fair.  This was both a colossal pain in the arse and a story that I knew would piss off a lot of people, because of its huge ramifications. Some outright dismissed it as “doomerism,” while others insisted it was a good thing, because OpenAI and Anthropic are growing so fast. 24 hours later, Bloomberg ran a story estimating, based on OpenAI’s $24.1 billion dollar contribution to Microsoft’s Fiscal Year 2026 revenues and previous statements, that OpenAI alone contributed to 70% or more of Microsoft’s AI revenues for the year.  For some context, Microsoft has spent $261.3 billion dollars in capital expenditures since the beginning of 2022. Meanwhile, Apollo chief economist Torsten Slok said Friday that profit margins in AI are “...higher the further you get from the end user,” and then said something I think I’ve said maybe four times in the last three months: Good bloody question Torsten! The answer is “probably not.” Let’s get real simple about this because everybody wants to make AI so complex. If we assume, on the low end, that Jensen Huang is right and he’s going to sell $1 trillion or so of GPUs (roughly 30GW of billable IT capacity), that’s somewhere between $360 billion and $435 billion of annual compute revenue demand.  Right now, there are (outside of hyperscalers buying compute for them, and whatever it is Meta is up to) two companies that spend more than $500 million a year on AI compute, namely Anthropic and OpenAI. Both are unprofitable, and both lose tens of billions of dollars a year. If we take OpenAI’s testimony from the Musk-Altman trial as gospel, it’ll spend around $50 billion on compute this year, and if we (kindly) assume Anthropic will spend $50 billion itself, that brings us to $100 billion. To get to that level of spend, Anthropic and OpenAI have raised a combined $217 billion in the first half of 2026. Every neocloud is effectively an outgrowth of this spend, either through direct contracts or by proxy via Microsoft or Google . Outside of hedge fund and investor Jane Street and NVIDIA , neoclouds do not have significant customers at the level that would warrant all this capex. So, the world is building AI compute capacity with the expectation of at least $360 billion in annual revenue, all while we struggle to find single-digit billions in AI compute spend. The only way all that compute gets used is if either A) Anthropic and OpenAI rent all of it or B) massive  (and I’m talking multiple $10 billion-a-year customers) appear virtually overnight.  In both those cases, the money to pay for that compute will have to come from somewhere. Remember: for Anthropic and OpenAI to be able to afford their current (and comparatively meager) spend, both have had to raise nearly a quarter of a trillion dollars in this year alone.  The vast, vast majority of the world’s compute revenue — I’d wager anywhere from 70% to 90% — is contingent on venture capital propping the AI labs up, and to make matters worse, it is no longer sufficient for them to just “grow fast,” but to grow so fast that they can spend (per estimates from Wells Fargo, Barclays, and UBS) $197 billion on compute in 2027 just on Google Cloud, Amazon Web Services and Microsoft Azure. This does not include the billions that both will spend on CoreWeave, Cerebras, or Oracle. Sorry, I got too complex again. Anthropic and OpenAI are only set to spend $100 billion on compute this year, and had to raise over $200 billion to do it, which makes it likely they’ll have to raise $150 billion each leading up to or in 2027.  And let’s be clear about something: the future growth trajectories of Amazon, Google and Microsoft (not to mention Oracle, CoreWeave, and every other neocloud) are contingent on the continued ability for Anthropic and OpenAI to raise and have the demand necessary to spend that money.   Let’s get specific! Stephen Ju of UBS estimates that Amazon’s AI revenue — 73%+ of which is OpenAI and Anthropic’s compute spend and revenue share (per Barclays) — accounts for 26% of AWS’ 2026 revenue and 30% of AWS’ 2027 revenue. Michael Turrin of Wells Fargo estimates that 25% of Microsoft Azure’s (calendar year) 2026 revenues come from AI (of which OpenAI is an estimated 70%). Brad Zelnick of Deutsche Bank estimates that AI will contribute 33% or more of Azure’s revenues in FY2027.  As I mentioned last week , UBS estimates that 48% of Google Cloud’s 2027 revenues will come from OpenAI and Anthropic. Zelnick of Deutsche Bank also projects in its most-likely scenario that AI revenues will make up 37% of all Microsoft’s cloud revenues in FY2029. I feel like I need to spell this out more. These are analysts from major banks and financial institutions. Their estimates, which are based on detailed financial models, inform Wall Street and investors’ expectations, as well as informing Bloomberg Intelligence’s consensus estimates for revenues. These are serious numbers and Wall Street will be mad if they are not met!  The other problem is that cloud is becoming an increasingly-larger part of the revenues of these companies. See the below chart that bakes in consensus analyst estimates up to 2029: I, again, will simplify: if more and more of the revenues of these three companies are coming from cloud segments that are increasingly-dominated by AI revenues mostly driven by two unprofitable, unsustainable companies, then the literal future of Microsoft, Google, and Amazon is whether Anthropic and OpenAI can pay them. This is not complex, it’s not contrived, it’s not doomerism or hating , these are the estimates from analysts and what they require to stop them from putting executives in The Wicker Man.  You can cut this situation in any way you want, but there’s no getting away from the fact that we’re four years in and the vast majority of demand comes from two companies that can’t afford to sustain it, and won’t be able to even under the most mold-poisoned of booster projections. Hyperscale growth is contingent on the success of their AI plays, and at 70% of AI revenues, “AI plays” refers to “two unsustainable AI labs.”  Perhaps another visualization would help! Below is a chart of the expected percentage of year-over-year growth that cloud revenues are estimated to contribute on a quarterly basis to revenues. Cloud revenues are the lynchpin of growth for Microsoft, Amazon and Google, though for whatever reason analysts estimate that YouTube and Google Search will re-accelerate. This is a huge issue when 33% of Azure revenue, 48% of Google Cloud, and (per Ken Gawrelski of Wells Fargo) 60% of AWS revenue growth is coming from companies that have been, assuming all the money crosses, sent a combined $115 billion from Amazon and Google in 2026 alone.  I realize I’m repeating myself, and I’m sorry, but it’s all so insane! The future of some of the largest companies on the stock market is contingent on both spending hundreds of billions a year in capex and the continued existence of the only real customers for AI compute.  The counter arguments are, from what I can tell, as follows: To be clear, “growing super fast” is no longer sufficient for OpenAI and Anthropic. Assuming that OpenAI actually intends to pay for its reported $750 billion in compute commitments through 2030 , it will have to raise hundreds of billions of dollars a year while also having the actual demand necessary to use that compute. No matter how big, handsome, and amazing you think either of these companies are, their expected compute spend will require them to make as much revenue as Microsoft, Google and Amazon in the next four years, and if they don’t, hyperscalers will not meet analyst and investor expectations. To make matters worse, for them to even be able to pay hyperscalers, capex investment must continue, as it’s become blatantly obvious that the capacity necessary to make all this money doesn’t currently exist.   Hyperscalers have not yet spent the money necessary to reap the “rewards” of their massive contracts with OpenAI and Anthropic, and analysts estimate that these three companies will spend another $1.5 trillion through the end of 2027.  So, again, let’s review: The demand for AI compute does not exist at scale outside of Anthropic and OpenAI, and it is not emerging anywhere that I can see. We are no longer in a situation where single or even double-digit demand for AI compute is sufficient. Based on the amount under construction, we need — even with OpenAI and Anthropic — hundreds of billions of dollars’ worth of demand in the next few years just to monetize the data center capacity under construction. AI boosters will insist that this is happening in the shadows, and that “all available compute will be used,” making the mistake of conflating scarcity of GPUs with overwhelming demand. If Microsoft 70% of Microsoft’s estimated $34.43 billion in AI revenue is from OpenAI, that leaves over a depressingly-low $10.33 billion across every single possible AI service that Azure has, including renting GPUs, AI models and Microsoft 365 Copilot… which means that, in the literal best-case scenario , there’s low-single-digit billions of revenue in AI compute to non-AI labs. If there was meaningful demand for AI compute or AI software, Microsoft would be representative of it as one of the largest vendors of both cloud software and cloud compute. Microsoft would, by virtue of its massive infrastructure and brand recognition, be receiving a large share of blue chip GPU rentals, as would it be representative of the ability for anyone to sell AI software at scale.  $10.33 billion in annual revenue is a catastrophic failure. It is around a quarter of Microsoft’s $41 billion in Q4FY2026 capex . It suggests that there is a calamitous lack of demand across both those renting GPUs and market demand for software built on top of AI models, and that Microsoft spent $261 billion in capex since 2022 to create annual revenues that amount to less than a third of the quarterly revenue of the Intelligent Cloud segment ($39.31 billion). There is no spinning this positively other than to ignore it outright. If Microsoft doesn’t have the demand, nobody has the demand. No, $10 billion is not “a lot,” especially for a company with tens of thousands of salespeople, a huge customer base, and a headstart of several years . Amazon and Google are doing equally poorly, which is why nobody wants to talk about their actual AI revenues.  I’m gonna say it with my full chest: anyone who said that “AI was paying off” for Microsoft, Google, Amazon, or Meta was wrong. Everybody who said the capex was well-spent was wrong. They are yet to admit they’re wrong because revenue growth has yet to slow and stock prices remain elevated. And that last part is why everybody got it wrong. As I discussed in last week’s premium , hyperscalers started buying GPUs because their overall revenue growth had begun to slow over the course of a little over a decade, with everyone — NVIDIA included — hitting a wall in 2022 : While buying GPUs didn’t really help revenues until OpenAI and Anthropic became big enough to start feeding hyperscaler and venture capital cash into Microsoft, Google, and Amazon’s mouths, buying GPUs became a dick-measuring contest that pumped stock values, all as Wall Street assumed every dollar of revenues came from AI.  Per BNY Melon : In 2023, Microsoft, Google, Apple, Meta, Amazon, and NVIDIA added trillions in market capitalization , with the media actively encouraging them to spend more money on capex . It didn’t matter that Microsoft missed on cloud revenues in Q4 FY2025 , much like how Amazon’s Q3 2024 earnings — which specifically missed expectations for cloud, the only place that Amazon was making any money from AI — caused its stock to pop because overall revenues were higher than expected .  In fact, I think that’s mostly what kept this going. I ran the numbers on the premium over two five-year-long periods — 2015 to 2020 and 2021 to 2026 — and found that while stock returns were dramatic, actual revenue growth has slowed dramatically.  As you can see, revenue growth, outside of Microsoft, slowed dramatically, all as PP&E (properties, plants and equipment, the part of the balance sheet where they keep GPUs and data centers — and other stuff, obviously) grew by $754.5 billion.  I’ll get back to that in a little bit. Yet because the stock price went up , everybody assumed that every dollar of revenue came from investments in AI GPUs. In 2023, a year when AI likely contributed less than $4 billion including OpenAI’s compute spend, Business Insider said that its AI bet was “ already paying off ,” all because Azure kept growing: To be clear, one whole revenue point is pathetic.  Anyway, in both April and October 2024, The Guardian reported that Microsoft was “sailing” as the “AI boom fueled double-digit growth in its cloud business” in a year where (based on working back from Wells Fargo’s estimates for FY25, which started in Q3 2024) it’s estimated to have made less than $6 billion in total revenue from anything AI-related outside of OpenAI. Microsoft’s total revenue for that fiscal year was $281.7 billion. In October 2025 — the end of Fiscal Year 2025 — Business Insider would again say that its AI bets had paid off , specifically adding that “Microsoft's AI push also increased revenue by 15% to $281.7 billion.”  Per Wells Fargo’s estimates, Microsoft’s total AI revenue for FY2025 — including what it received from OpenAI — were $14.86 billion, or around 5.28% of revenue, or roughly 6.1% of annual growth for in a year it spent $64.6 billion in capex. When you remove OpenAI’s estimated $9 billion in compute spend, that leaves around $5.7 billion in AI revenue, or around 2% of overall revenues for the year. The rationale is pretty simple: Well, they did, and there wasn’t. You can fart around all you want about the theoretical or imaginary promises of AI or AGI or whatever, but this didn’t work.  Yet all of this kept going because the tech industry’s collective reality is based on stock prices, Twitter, and a tech and business media that appears to fall for just about anything as long as a wealthy person says it.  And this chart is the entire reason: I maintain that 2021 broke the world for many reasons, but one of them is that it set unrealistic revenue goals as money flooded back into the economy post-pandemic off the back of the most-pornographic years of Zero Interest Free Money Policy.  To explain, I’m going to crib a little from my latest premium , The Hater’s Guide to NVIDIA (Part 2). The post-2021 hangover was brutal. Meta, Google and Amazon, all of which have fiscal years that align with the calendar year, saw growth deteriorate: Microsoft’s FY2023 (July 1, 2022 through June 30, 2023) revenues only grew 6.9% year-over-year. NVIDIA’s FY2023 (which ran February 2022 to January 2023) was effectively flat, sitting at 0.2% as the post-pandemic surge of demand for gaming GPUs and networking gear puttered out, with Q4 2023 revenues dropping by 21% year-over-year.  Nobody really knew what to do, with just about everybody getting their asses handed to them by the markets . Yet the savior was already incubating. In March 2022, NVIDIA announced the Hopper GPU architecture , and while initial sales and shipments in September were good, they weren’t enough to restart growth until the November launch of ChatGPT convinced everybody that they had to do AI, and that the only way to “do AI” was buy GPUs. The very same month, Microsoft and NVIDIA announced they were building another OpenAI supercomputer using Hopper . Something about ChatGPT would fundamentally break the brains of Microsoft’s competitors.  Per The New York Times : ChatGPT immediately gave executives AI psychosis. In January 2023 , Microsoft would invest another $10 billion, and a few weeks later, Google would sign a partnership with early-stage AI firm Anthropic (founded by former OpenAI executives) to use its TPUs and GPUs as its “preferred cloud provider,” only for Amazon to barge in and invest $4 billion a few months later in September 2023 , making AWS “Anthropic’s primary cloud provider,” which forced Google to invest up to $2 billion in October 2023 . By the third quarter of 2023, NVIDIA would be selling half a million H100 GPUs , primarily to Microsoft, Amazon, Google and Meta, which had just farted out its own open source ChatGPT “competitor,” Llama . NVIDIA was saved. Q1 FY24 (May 2023) revenues blew estimates out of the water , and by Q2 FY24 (August 2023) , data center demand caused revenues to jump 170% year-over-year. Microsoft, ever helpful to its good friend and collaborator, would sign a multi-billion dollar deal with CoreWeave to rent capacity in June 2023 , allowing it to raise $2.3 billion in debt a few months later , taking advantage of the “ChatGPT moment” that was when “things got real” to quote CTO Brian Venturo. By the end of FY24, NVIDIA’s revenue had jumped 125.9% year-over-year. Everybody went AI crazy. The media would fall over itself claiming that AI could do basically anything , and justify one of the largest expenditures in history. This was partially helped by a media-driven hype campaign around the availability of GPUs , which was mostly caused by NVIDIA being the only vendor and selling the vast majority of them to hyperscalers who were yet to really show any return on their investment.  Per the New York Times: Nevertheless, revenue was growing, seemingly in line with capital expenditures, and as hyperscalers realized that the media and the markets had toddler-like attachments to reality, they piled into NVIDIA GPUs en masse. And man, FOMO was in full force. The GPU shortage was timed perfectly with one of the worst years in the history of venture capital , creating an air that the only way to get out of the depths of Hell was to invest in AI in any way, shape or form for both startups and hyperscalers alike.  Yet when you look at the numbers , very little actually changed for the hyperscalers. Since the launch of ChatGPT, year-over-year growth has never returned to pre-2022 levels, other than for Microsoft, which hit its highest year-over-year growth (17.8%) since FY2022 (18%) after a prolonged period in the 14-percents. Everybody conflated the massive capex spend with the return of growth to the tech industry versus an industry-wide swindle. Hyperscalers were rewarded with stock pumps and pay bumps for an “AI revolution” that mostly amounted to spending hundreds of billions of dollars on GPUs to make tens of billions of dollars in revenue, all because revenue kept growing and both analysts and the media refused to talk loudly about the lack of any payoff. The media’s credulousness was used against it. The assumption, as I mentioned, was that all this money wouldn’t be spent without an obvious return, and because the numbers are so flabbergasting , it’s easy for you to say “$10.33 billion is a lot of money!” (because it is) and to dismiss the massive costs as “just part of building the infrastructure,” even if it isn’t clear how these numbers ever match up in the future. For whatever reason, the media continues to give hyperscalers and anybody in AI the benefit of the doubt when it comes to the efficacy and outcomes of large language models or the catastrophic economic mismatch in the returns. Every time the response is “these are smart people!” or “these are the early days!” or “it’s just like the dot com bubble!” because nobody is particularly interested in being right so much as they are about being right about the particular consensus of a particular moment. While I understand the professional harms of saying that AI was bullshit in 2023 or 2024, there was never any excuse to automatically give hyperscalers credit for “AI paying off” at any point in history, and further excuses of “it being the early days” are intellectual crutches” used by people that either want the powerful to win, have a vested interest in doing so, or have resigned themselves to watch it happen.  The fact that the media has actively shrugged off the 70% story (outside of Bloomberg’s coverage, at least) is a sign that it doesn’t really want to reconcile with the truth, and honestly, I kind of get it. When you’ve spent three years saying that hyperscalers were growing because of their vast spend on AI, filling in the gaps of every narrative and assuming they don’t want to tell you revenues because they’re oh-so-good , it’s hard to move in reverse. The other problem is the monstrous and abusive marketing campaign from the AI industry itself, and those who use AI on a regular basis. If you are against the consensus that AI will grow ever-larger every single quarter forever, you will be harassed and dogpiled across multiple social media platforms by everyone from AI influencers to actual journalists. The fact that it’s more professionally dangerous to critique the powerful than it is to align with them is disgusting, but I should be clear that these tactics only reinforce that I’m on the right track. As Nik Suresh noted in his recent piece , refusing to say that AI is giving you massive productivity benefits will lead to actual professional consequences, because so much is riding on the overall grift about what AI can do (which is much, much less than the boosters will promise). This runs antithetical to productivity or good sense, and everybody involved in it should be both eternally shamed and shunned from any sensible business.  And while the AI industry and its fandom will claim that people like me are “skeptics” and “haters,” the outright hatred and vitriol that they spew for not falling in line behind a nakedly false narrative built on outright disinformation is disgraceful.  It only serves to prove my point that something is very, very wrong with the tech industry, our markets, and the overall information ecosystem. When I wrote the Rot-Com Bubble in 2024 , the AI bubble was a series of exploits used to mask the end of tech’s era of hypergrowth.  The tech media’s immediate attachment to AI and ChatGPT was nothing to do with actual technology and everything to do with their attachment to being involved in whatever future the powerful decided had arrived.  After years of depressing coverage of cryptocurrency and the metaverse and a deeply-depressing 2022, ChatGPT represented a product they could use, be built upon to create other products they could use, and lead to an entire era of new people to follow and report on.  It gave retail investors a reason to dump money into stocks. It gave founders an API to build on top of, an infrastructural layer to smooth out, and a dream to sell venture capitalists who had near-unilaterally sucked at their jobs for years , all wrapped in a fuzzy sense of “progress” that mean that valuations could be high and the time horizon for returns could be effectively infinite. And that last part is what was so important for everybody involved. Startups, Microsoft, Google, Amazon, Meta, CoreWeave, and anyone else involved in the AI bubble were immediately given near-infinite runway and manufactured consent to burn as much money as they wanted to.  Even today — in the third quarter of the year of our lord 2026 — I am still asked on podcasts “whether we’re in the early days.” This is the power of narratives, and how willing so many people are to explain away the failures of the powerful rather than having the courage to face them. And it’s all because the stock prices haven’t gone down yet. I have to give credit to Jensen Huang, though. He realized quickly that reality is dictated not by actual revenues but how you can manipulate the market with those revenues. NVIDIA’s continued position as the largest company on the NASDAQ relied upon a near-constant flow of new orders of GPUs, but brainwashed investors, misinformed by a media with few good information sources, had begun to conflate both GPU purchases and any revenue growth with purchasing them.  The power of the narrative is such that everybody has rationalized what’s happening as “good investment.” Hyperscalers spending hundreds of billions on capex makes sense because AI is driving growth, and the market is at all time highs.  The same extends to the endless flow of nebulous circular deals, like the supposed $500 billion infrastructure deal between NVIDIA and The Avengers of Private Credit, including Apollo, Blackstone, BlackRock, Brookfield, Goldman Sachs, and KKR . While NVIDIA dumped a little on the deal, the media still doesn’t seem to think this is a bad thing, even though it’s the loudest possible sign that there isn’t actually real demand from anyone that can actually afford to buy these GPUs. Even then, the “$500 billion” deal isn’t even a $500 billion deal, per The Wall Street Journal (which has, for some reason, deleted this paragraph from the story): Oh, okay. So it’s not actually $500 billion. It’s a bunch of smaller deals. Great. Sure. Anyway, surely you must think this is a little worrying? That this is what NVIDIA is reduced to doing to keep up with demand? What? You think it’s a good thing? Jesus fucking christ. Not a single word about the fact that the only two companies that would actually want this compute can’t afford it, or how much people are spending on compute (you know, the thing that data centers sell), or anything about AI at all beyond that it’s “part of the infrastructure buildout.”  Yet when you actually open the press release (which I found on my Terminal but cannot for the life of me get a link to), there’s one glaring detail everybody left out, emphasis mine: That’s right folks. There is no deal! It’s an MOU! It’s fucking theoretical! And I have not seen this fact reflected in a single god damn story about this god damn “deal” in one god damn place! It’s from the press release from the fucking companies!   This “deal” is also very, very weird, with NVIDIA claiming it’s “establishing independent compute financing platforms” with the largest asset managers in the world. It isn’t clear what the money will do, where the money will flow, who it will flow to, when it will flow there, how it will be structured, from whom the money will be raised, or really anything other than “number so big, number so huge.” This announcement — and that is, at this point, all it is — exists entirely to have people say that NVIDIA has “ booked $500 billion in revenue ,” even though even in the kindest possible read not a single dollar has actually been raised , nor has a single actual contract been signed. If you need an example, take NVIDIA’s $100 billion investment in OpenAI that also involved it building 10GW of compute capacity — a memorandum of understanding that never materialized in a deal .  Here is what Jensen Huang had to say about said memorandum of understanding : You’ll notice there are no actual details about any deals happening, mostly because nothing has actually happened beyond a few marketing calls and a lot of heavy breathing from the press. No money has been raised, what will likely happen — if anything — is that NVIDIA will end up backstopping a few $10 billion data center deals, or perhaps invest a few billion in equity into an SPV built to raise debt to buy GPUs as it already did with xAI . Jensen Huang has said as much in his hilariously-oafish announcement of the MOU : Hey, wait a second, is this circular financ- Folks, this isn’t circular financing at all! It’s just that NVIDIA will pay some sort of 25% “residual-value support” so that private credit can use that as collateral to raise debt to buy GPUs from NVIDIA . If anything it’s spherical! Look, Jensen, if the demand was real, you wouldn’t have to announce a rinky-dink-maybe-$500-billion-no-IT-loads-refused-MOU! If there were actual diverse demand for NVIDIA’s GPUs commensurate with analyst expectations, you wouldn’t have to do these bizarre, painfully-circular deals that exist only to inflate its revenues and further prop up the existence of unprofitable AI labs! Anyway, if you’re wondering about what the point of this all is, Jensen Huang has your answer: We are four fucking years and over a trillion dollars into this garbage, Jensen! This is the best you can do? THIS? AHHHHH! In FY2027 — which began on February 1, 2026 — analyst consensus has NVIDIA’s revenues at $393.7.6 billion for the year, growing to $565.7 billion in FY2028 and $694 billion in 2029. What this means is that despite hyperscalers spending over a trillion dollars on AI data center capex in 2026 and even more in 2027, that’s just not enough to keep up with Wall Street’s expectations. To get specific, NVIDIA’s FY2026 revenues were $215.9 billion, with 89% of that coming from the data center segment (read: GPUs and the associated gear), and this is with the near-entire focus of the world’s largest companies and credit markets on building AI data centers and banks that fear they’re “choking” on data center debt .  Analyst expectations are set to believe that it will triple its revenue in the space of two years. Honestly, $500 billion wouldn’t even be enough. NVIDIA needs every hyperscaler to keep spending more capex every single quarter, without fail, as well as hundreds of billions of dollars’ worth of new AI chip spend to arrive from an industry where the only two companies with any real need for all this compute have only ever lost tens of billions of dollars, and literally can’t afford to pay for it. I realize many people get number blindness past a certain scale, so I will put it very simply: I also understand why people want to bury their heads in the sand here. Right now, the numbers are all the highest they’ve ever been, and they keep going up, which means that anyone saying that things are going wrong has to expose themselves to torrents of abuse and aggression from both posters and peers.  I also think doing so is an act of cowardice. While I don’t expect people to start saying that this is all bullshit and headed for the gutter, I see an astonishing flippancy about everything I’ve been writing about from much of the mainstream media. To not warn people that AI revenues are heavily-centralized around two companies that burn endless billions of dollars, and that the commensurate demand isn’t there as a result, is to both fail your readers and actively empower the powerful.  I haven’t even gotten into the $1.65 trillion in off-balance sheet obligations . It’s unclear how hyperscalers afford them if OpenAI and Anthropic can’t afford to pay them.  It’s unclear how any of this works.  And then there’s the problem that for the 190GW of capacity in planning, we need somewhere between $1.62 trillion and $2.92 trillion in annual compute spend for an industry that, in the best-case scenario, has roughly $110 billion in annual demand, with 90%+ of that coming from two companies that can only spend that money if they’re fed it by venture capitalists. Everyone can — and will — keep ignoring what’s happening as long as it requires an ounce of courage to think about reality. Many will bury their heads in the sand, make the kindest reads possible of every AI story, pump up every AI narrative, and celebrate every mediocre “achievement” right up until NVIDIA or a hyperscaler misses on analyst expectations, or AI labs start circling the drain. Everything you’re seeing right now is an attempt to extract further capital and hype from the system to continue inflating the bubble. Every single asset manager in the NVIDIA “deal” has some sort of investment in AI data centers and/or neoclouds (especially Blackstone, who has been in CoreWeave since its earliest days), and absolutely nobody gives a shit about what LLMs can do outside of their ability to con investors and generate fees for their funds.  Every journalist that continues to ignore the obvious instability, circularity and centralization of the AI industry fails their audience by not discussing it before any discussions of AI’s theoretical returns or abilities. It is no longer ethically sound to ignore the problems. Do with that statement what you will. In the end, it’s pretty simple: Microsoft, Google and Amazon’s hypergrowth era ends if Anthropic and OpenAI can’t spend hundreds of billions of dollars on compute, and companies like Oracle, CoreWeave, Nebius, and IREN face apocalyptic circumstances when they fail to do so. NVIDIA’s future is entirely dependent on these companies’ abilities to convince the credit markets that everything will go fine, and its circular financing operations are both sustained and continue to expand. And every VC invested in AI needs a miracle, because there are few signs that these companies can be sold to anyone or taken public.  When it becomes safe to do so, many will attempt to either rationalize ignoring reality or pretend they saw it coming.  If they did, they chose not to tell you. If they didn’t, they chose not to look. If you liked this piece, you should subscribe to my premium newsletter. It’s $70 a year, or $7 a month, and in return you get a weekly newsletter that’s usually anywhere from 10,000 to 18,000 words, including vast, detailed analyses of the biggest events and companies in the AI bubble. If you want to get in touch — and especially if you have any juicy information about Anthropic, OpenAI, or any other companies in the AI bubble — hit me up on Signal at ezitron.76. I’m also on IB on The Terminal.  Anthropic and OpenAI will simply continue to grow faster and faster, spending more and more on compute, reach profitability , and then do so to such a level that they will need hundreds of billions of dollars of compute. Other companies — which have yet to emerge in any way, shape or form — will also need billions of dollars of compute. Hyperscalers will make untold trillions of dollars’ worth of revenue. If this doesn’t work out, “there will be uses for it after, like the dot com bubble,” even though it’s nothing like the dot com bubble . The massive revenue backlogs are proof that there’s tons of pent-up AI compute. OpenAI and Anthropic are on the hook for over $1.1 trillion in spending commitments, with hundreds of billions of dollars’ worth across Amazon, Google and Microsoft. OpenAI and Anthropic represent 70% or more of AI revenues across these companies, largely from ever-increasing amounts of cloud compute spend, and analysts have set expectations based on their ability to continue doing so. Microsoft, Google and Amazon are dependent on their cloud segments for overall revenue growth, and Anthropic and OpenAI make up large swaths of that growth. To be specific, their estimated compute spend across these platforms is over $200 billion in 2027. To pay for their estimated $100 billion in 2026 compute spend, they had to raise over a combined $217 billion. The only way that Anthropic and OpenAI can pay for that compute is if they both raise the money to do so and have the demand necessary to justify it. The only way that hyperscalers can get paid if they do so is if they can build the capacity necessary to fulfil these demands. To do all this, hyperscalers will have to take on increasingly-large amounts of debt, with an expected $250 billion this year and $400 billion next year issued in the bond markets alone. The stock price kept going up. The revenues kept going up. The executives kept ( vaguely ) giving AI credit for growth. Hyperscalers kept spending tens or hundreds of billions in capex. Everyone assumed that these were “smart people” that “wouldn’t spend all that money without there being a massive return.” Google went from 41.6% year-over-year growth in 2021 to 10.3% and 9.7% in 2022 and 2023. Meta went from 37.2% year-over-year growth in 2021 to negative 1.1% in 2022 and 15.7% in 2023. Amazon went from 37.6% year-over-year growth in 2020, to 21.7% in 2021, to 9.4% in 2022, to 1.8% in 2023 (and has really never recovered.) There is not enough money to keep up with analyst expectations for NVIDIA’s revenue. Even with every hyperscaler buying more and more GPUs every quarter, it will have to triple revenue in the next three years to keep up, at a time when hyperscaler cashflows are deteriorating (and negative in the case of Google and Amazon), making further capex contingent on debt, as AI revenues are not covering their costs. There are only two companies that actually spend more than a few hundred million a year on AI compute — OpenAI and Anthropic — and both of them will lose tens of billions of dollars this year and more next year.  Outside of these two companies, the only other companies spending more than a few hundred million a year are either the hyperscalers renting capacity to sell back to Anthropic and OpenAI, or Meta, a company that does not have an AI strategy or meaningful revenues. No, AI is not “helping ads.” Meta has actually said this. They have mentioned incremental, single-digit engagement boosts in a few blogs, and everybody interpreted from there.

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Premium: The Hater's Guide To NVIDIA (Part 2)

For a little under a year, everyone — myself included — has compared NVIDIA to Enron, largely because NVIDIA insisted, in detail, that it was nothing like Enron, WorldCom, or Lucent , a potent example of the Streisand Effect that would be much funnier if NVIDIA wasn’t holding up more than 7% of the value of the NASDAQ.  And as I covered in the first part of the Hater’s Guide To NVIDIA last year, there are material concerns about how the company makes money today and will continue to do so in the future. I will concede that NVIDIA isn’t exactly like Enron in the sense that it isn’t, to my knowledge, doing anything outright fraudulent, like attempting to hide massive amounts of debt inside SPVs as Enron did with its “Raptors,” which I must be clear are distinct from the SPVs used in AI data center debt , though I’ll add that something being legal doesn’t make it a good idea or ethical. That being said, NVIDIA CEO Jensen Huang has employed many of the same tactics used by Lucent, Nortel, and many of the big dot-com busts, but has been smart enough to make everybody else carry the risk. Instead of doing direct vendor financing like Lucent did with Winstar (where it effectively loaned its customers money to pay it with), NVIDIA funded neoclouds like CoreWeave, Nebius, and IREN, operating as an early stage investor , IPO anchor , post-IPO investor , $6.3 billion customer and data center lease backstop , allowing them to raise tens of billions of dollars’ worth of debt from overly-eager asset managers and banks, allowing it to do basically the same thing as vendor financing without having to take on any of that messy risk.  These deeply-unprofitable, cash-intensive, debt-riddled companies exist for one purpose — to raise debt to buy NVIDIA GPUs — and would have fallen apart without the AI hype cycle and NVIDIA’s continued backing. Per Kakashii : In other words, NVIDIA has managed to find a way to do vendor financing without ever having to provide any, finding willing supplicants in the various backers of CoreWeave and other neoclouds that would be willing to front the money, all under the mistaken belief that they were funding the next industrial revolution. To explain exactly how it works, I’ll return to my imaginary scenario from the Big Short 2 : It’s a win-win-win for NVIDIA, its customers, and the bankers involved. CoreWeave gets to raise more debt and keep its investors strung along on the still-theoretical, ever-expanding timeline of a return on invested capital, bankers get a slew of fees for pulling together the deal, and NVIDIA guarantees itself billions of dollars of business. And this approach is something where any investment by NVIDIA has a habit of being amplified by others — like Australian startup Firmus, which just raised $2bn from a bevy of investors (including NVIDIA, which had also backed an earlier round), Jane Street, and Blackrock , with a significant chunk of that money guaranteed to go towards NVIDIA GPUs. NVIDIA also participated in Firmus’s previous $300m round, although was not listed as a “cornerstone investor.” Earlier this year, Firmus secured a $10bn debt facility, led by Blackstone. NVIDIA will be a net beneficiary of that debt raise, and I would argue that its participation in the company’s fundraising — as well as the various announcements of partnerships between the two — has been instrumental in both the company’s fundraising and its ability to secure debt.   You’ll notice I haven’t mentioned “AI” or “LLMs” up until this point, and that’s because technology has, for the most part, very little to do with these transactions. As I discussed in this week’s free newsletter , 70% or more of hyperscaler revenues are from OpenAI and Anthropic, and CoreWeave’s largest customers are Microsoft (for OpenAI), Google ( for OpenAI ), Anthropic, NVIDIA itself, and Meta. Customers are not coming to it for any particular technological moat or unique offering outside of its ability to sling more NVIDIA GPUs to the same customers that everybody else has.  While GPUs technically are used for AI training and inference, their relationship to NVIDIA is only as good as their ability to create more hype. As I discussed a few weeks ago , it has promised somewhere between 10x and 25x “operating cost savings” with every successive generation of GPUs, though it’s never really clear how that manifests or what it actually means, or whether any of that even matters to OpenAI and Anthropic, its largest customers by proxy.  Nevertheless, it’s pretty difficult to work out what each generation really changes. SemiAnalysis claims it “delivers 5.4x performance per MW and 5x performance per dollar against [the previous generation] GB200 NVL72,” but that’s for DeepSeek R1, a year-and-a-half old open source model that’s vastly smaller and less-powerful. But that’s not really a problem, because all NVIDIA needs to do is keep up the appearance of innovation in as precise or imprecise a way to justify increasing prices with each new generation, and to convince people that they’re building “ AI factories ” as they fund data centers for customers that don’t really exist outside of the big AI labs . While NVIDIA has thousands of talented engineers building its GPUs and the associated software, the only real purpose is to create a vague sense of “more” and “bigger” and “more powerful” to justify racks of 72 GPUs that are more than twice the price of their predecessors .  That’s because NVIDIA is no longer a technology company so much as it is an asset management and marketing firm that happens to sell semiconductors. To that point, I believe that the comparisons to Enron, Lucent, and other dot-com flameouts are on the right path , but misses one very, very obvious comparison: GE Capital, the financial services of General Electric, specifically in the Jack Welch years that I covered two years ago in the Shareholder Supremacy . Welch’s GE did whatever it needed to to survive, buying and selling companies to help boost GE’s earnings every quarter, and eventually grew into what David Gelles would call a “large, unregulated bank,” to the point that GE Capital was bringing in $425 billion in revenue in 2001 (about 50% of GE’s revenue), providing everything from direct leases of equipment to assuming its customers debts to investing directly in its customers, all to make sure that, well, said customers continued being able to buy GE gear.  Unlike GE Capital, NVIDIA has the advantage of a much, much simpler business model and far fewer products to sell, but said advantage is a problem for two brutal reasons: its customers are driven by desperation and a fear of missing out, and its remarkable revenue growth means that it must in turn grow by ridiculous amounts every single quarter from here to eternity.  Yet this problem is driving it to take increasingly-Welchian measures to make sure that demand keeps up with investor expectations. It (per the FT) just signed leases worth as much as $50 billion for a Texas-based data center built by Hut 8, which makes it likely that this capacity is being built for Anthropic, with which it already has multiple deals . In the same piece, the FT mentions that NVIDIA is in talks to backstop $250 billion in compute costs for a still-theoretical 10GW data center in Ohio. And again , much like GE, NVIDIA uses its stellar credit rating (AA- - two rungs lower than GE at its height) to secure these deals, per the FT: In the end, GE’s greater collapse led to lawsuits, SEC fines and revenue revisions, all as a result of its “aggressive” accounting practices. For example, it was forced to restate its 2016 and 2017 earnings as a result of “new accounting standards” it instituted as a result of an SEC investigation into its insurance and power divisions that eventually cost it a $200 million fine , cutting a remarkable $4.24 billion off of earnings in the period .  While I’m not accusing NVIDIA of anything untoward, it’s impossible to ignore the sheer aggression of its circular financing and willingness to do whatever it takes to keep selling further GPUs. NVIDIA is now a semiconductor manufacturer, a venture capitalist, a lender of last resort,  Today’s premium newsletter is the story of NVIDIA’s descent into circular madness, and how Jensen Huang is increasingly becoming the Jack Welch of AI. This is Part 2 of The Hater’s Guide To NVIDIA, or WUDA CUDA SHUDA

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News: Microsoft Disclosures Suggest OpenAI Sales Account For Around 70% Of FY26 AI Revenue, more than 7% of FY26 Revenue

Executive Summary: As I discussed in yesterday's free newsletter , analyst estimates have OpenAI and Anthropic making up over 70% of all AI revenues across Microsoft, Google and Amazon. While some might have disagreed, Bloomberg is now reporting that OpenAI "accounted for more than half, and likely about 70%, of Microsoft's actual AI sales during its most recent fiscal year." Bloomberg's maths is explained as such: The actual disclosure from Microsoft comes from its most-recent earnings: To be clear, "run rate" means a non-specific month multiplied by 12, which means that it's very possible that Microsoft actually made far less than $37 billion, but based on that maths, OpenAI would make up roughly 64.8% - that being said, I think 70% or more is a perfectly-reasonable estimate, if not far, far more. The other incredible fact from these disclosures is that OpenAI's spend and revenue share accounted for 7% of Microsoft's $331.8 billion in FY26 revenue - or around 7.26% to be specific. At this point, it's impossible to argue that Microsoft has spent $270 billion in capital expenditures to prop up a single client, and that its overall AI plays have failed to create any significant revenue growth or opportunities. We are now four years into the AI bubble, and Microsoft has little to show for it other than one very large and very unsustainable company that requires near-infinite resources to keep paying its cloud compute bills. If you liked this piece, you should subscribe to my premium newsletter. It’s $70 a year, or $7 a month, and in return you get a weekly newsletter that’s usually anywhere from 5,000 to 18,000 words, including vast, detailed analyses of  NVIDIA ,  Anthropic and OpenAI’s finances , and  the AI bubble writ large . My Hater's Guides To the  SaaSpocalypse ,  Private Credit  and  Private Equity  are essential to understanding our current financial system, and my guide to how  OpenAI Kills Oracle  pairs nicely with my  Hater's Guide To Oracle, as well as the Hater’s Guide To Oracle (Part 2). Subscribing to premium is both great value and makes it possible to write these large, deeply-researched free pieces every week. On Friday, I’ll publish the second installment of the Hater’s Guide to Nvidia — where I’ll take a look at how the AI bubble transformed the company from a pure hardware player to a purveyor of the financial dark arts.  If you want to get in touch — and especially if you have any juicy information about Anthropic, OpenAI, or any other companies in the AI bubble — hit me up on Signal at ezitron.76. I’m also on IB on The Terminal.  Microsoft disclosures and Bloomberg analyses show that OpenAI's compute spend and revenue share accounted for 70% or more of Microsoft's FY26 AI revenues, and more than 7% of Microsoft's overall FY2026 revenues. Microsoft has spent $261.3 billion in capital expenditures since the beginning of 2022. OpenAI accounted for $24.1 billion of Microsoft's FY2026 revenues.

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