Showing posts with label investing. Show all posts
Showing posts with label investing. Show all posts

Thursday, August 27, 2026

Fuse Powder BOOM! How California technocults created opportunties for capital seeking investment vehicles

David Hoyt, AI is the Latest and Best-Financed Cult to Emerge from California, 3 Quarks Daily, Aug. 23, 2026.

The article begins by discussing the cultish behavior surrounding AI in Silicon Valley; I discussed similar material in a 3QD article from 2022, On the Cult of AI Doom. The article pivots toward finances with this paragraph:

What makes the cult of AI different in tone and in worldview is its origin within a tech industry which sits at an epicenter of unregulated flows of global capital, its profound, longstanding, and growing links to the US security state, and the certainty that on the basis of these pillars it can build the future it wants here on earth right now, and that no one should be able to stop them.

Then we have:

Two macroeconomic factors are at play in the breakneck speed with which AI infrastructure has been financed and built out since the release of Chat GPT in November of 2022. They have little to do with the intrinsic commercial potential of AI-related products or services, nor any particular innovation in computer engineering. The first, to put it simply, is the availability of lots of money. More than ever before, giant pots of money are sloshing around the planet, motivated by historically low interest rates over a relatively long period to search out the Next Big Thing. This money is mostly exempt from national regimes of control or taxation, is managed outside the traditional banking system, and is therefore more free to move around. The second is the chronic and by now widely acknowledged slow-down of economic growth in the advanced economies, dating back nearly half a century. What the hype typically fails to register is that investors don’t seek out technology and AI firms because they are the best bets on future returns – they seek them out because they are the only bets around.

To understand just why this is, Nick Srnicek provides a useful capsule history of the sequence of financial crises that have followed the liberalization of capital since the later 20th century. It is a story that leads with a crescendo to the current boom in AI development. In the mid 1990’s, the hottest global market was not centered in Silicon Valley, but in the small economies of East and Southeast Asia, the “Asian Tigers.” Only when these blew up beginning in 1997 did newly mobile capital, recently freed from decades of local restrictions on its movement in and out of national economies, begin to pour into Silicon Valley in what would become known as the dot-com bubble. When this blew up, as all bubbles do, it led to a decade of low interest rates dictated by the Federal Reserve. This, in turn, led global investors to flood the US housing market, inflating a nearly decade-long bubble in real estate prices. When this bubble blew up in 2008 with even more severity, followed almost immediately by the Greek/European debt crisis of 2009-2012, the solvency of major financial institutions in the US and Europe and of the entire economic order was threatened. Only massive intervention from the public sector avoided a meltdown. At the same time, the year 2012 marked the year that growth rates in the People’s Republic of China dropped under 10% annually for the first time in over a decade. This twin shock to the global economy, in combination with austerity measures put in place in the aftermath of the 2008 crisis, led to the unraveling of the global economic architecture put in place over the previous quarter century.

This is the context of chronic low growth in which money has been pouring into AI, either invested in privately held firms such as Anthropic or OpenAI, or publically held tech firms listed in the US such as Google and Microsoft, or in overseas firms such as semiconductor giant SK Hynix in South Korea. The search for returns continues to drive valuations of AI majors to astronomical heights, bringing significant portions of the market along with them. In May, 2026 Anthropic, which only recently turned a modest profit on sales of its AI assistant chatbot Claude, came close to breaking the valuation threshold of $1 trillion USD. (There is no standard, objective methodology for obtaining such valuations for private companies). According to the OECD, artificial intelligence firms captured 61% of global venture capital in 2025. A Stanford report puts global VC investment in Silicon Valley firms alone at 75% of the total. Overall capital spending on AI in the United States is at roughly 2% of GDP, and expected to reach 3-4% in 2027. This is equal to and slightly exceeding the US defense budget.

This is a lot of investment, but in what, precisely? As it stands right now, AI is an all-purpose everything enhancer, like the patent cure-all medicines of the nineteenth century.

There's more at the link, including thumbnail accounts of recent events on Wall Street and among VCs.

Think of it like this: The techno cult launched ChatGPT in late November of 2022. That's the fuse. That large pile of money that's been floating around looking for investment vehicles, that's the powder. When ChatGPT became a surprise hit, the fuse was lit and the powder exploded: BOOM! That's where we are now.

Sunday, August 23, 2026

How Much Would an AI Crash Destroy?

Youtube page:

Two chip stocks recently drove seventeen percent of the entire global stock market's return in a single month — which tells you just how concentrated the AI trade has become, and how exposed the average investor now is without realising it. In this video we look at how much wealth an AI crash could actually destroy, with estimates from Dean Baker, former IMF chief economist Gita Gopinath, and Oliver Wyman running into the tens of trillions of dollars. We cover why the usual places to hide — small caps, value funds, international stocks — are now packed with AI stocks, what the Bank for International Settlements found when it compared today's buildout to the great railway and dot-com bubbles, and why a technology being real has never been enough to protect the people who overpaid for it. This isn't a crash prediction. It's a look at the downside risk, the illusion of diversification, and why boring, unexciting investing tends to win in the end.

Monday, August 10, 2026

We Need To Talk About Leopold [& Situational Oblivion]

From the YouTube page:

Last week, 24-year-old Leopold Aschenbrenner — former FTX staffer, ex-OpenAI researcher, and author of the viral 165-page essay "Situational Awareness" — managed to lose roughly two-thirds of his $45 billion hedge fund in a matter of weeks. The margin calls arrived during his wedding weekend.

In this video I break down how a trader with no professional experience raised billions from Silicon Valley, why his AI "hedge" wasn't a hedge at all, and how leverage plus a concentrated bet on artificial intelligence stocks turned a great-looking expected return into a catastrophic outcome. Along the way we look at the cultural gap between Silicon Valley and Wall Street, why Ken Griffin's Citadel ended up buying the collapsing portfolio in an overnight fire sale, and the maths of volatility drag — the reason a high expected return can still drag an investor's typical outcome straight into the ground.

It's a story about leverage, risk management, expected versus median returns, and what happens when you go "full Kelly." Featuring reporting from the Wall Street Journal, The New York Times, Bloomberg, and the Financial Times, plus Victor Haghani's lessons from The Missing Billionaires.

I’ve listened to enough of Boyle’s stuff to have decided that he’s an absolute master of dry humor. But he really outdoes himself here. This one is so dry it could have sucked up all the rain that’s fallen on the East coast in the last several days.

Wednesday, August 5, 2026

Why Wall Street is Ignoring Big Tech's Debt

YouTube page:

Nikkei Asia recently reported that the five biggest US tech companies are carrying an estimated $1.65 trillion in "hidden," off-balance-sheet debt — and a lot of commentators have reached for the word "Enron" to describe the issue. In this video I look at whether that comparison holds up. It doesn't: unlike Enron, this debt isn't concealed through fraud — it's disclosed in the footnotes, it breaks no accounting rules, and much of what is going on is perfectly ordinary. But that raises a more interesting question than "will they get caught." If the aggressive stuff — the adjusted earnings, the leases, the stock-based compensation added back — is all sitting there in plain sight, does dressing up the numbers actually fool anyone? Drawing on the work of Aswath Damodaran, Richard Sloan, Robert Bloomfield and others, I dig into what the research says about whether markets reward clean accounting or aggressive accounting, why the debt isn't hidden so much as filed somewhere too tedious for most people to read — and why the real risk in the AI boom probably isn't the borrowing at all, but the enormous revenue it's all assuming will show up.

Thursday, July 30, 2026

Detecting “animal spirits” at work through narratives (earnings calls) circulating in the marketplace, the case of cyber risk

On July 21 I posted some remarks about the final chapter in Tyler Cowen’s monograph on marginalism: Beyond Marginalism: What’s Next? [MR #12]. In that Chapter Cowen discussed an asset pricing model that used machine learning to create a 360,000 parameter model that gave better predictions than classic models using only four or five factors. The factors in those classic models are predefined on an intuitive basis. Cowen despairs of making intuitive sense of those 360,000 factors in the machine learning model.

In my post I argued that those 360,000 factors might be capturing the effects of Keynes’s animal spirits as expressed in the stories and gossip Schiller writes about as narrative economics. Two days later I discussed the idea with Marge, the AI attached to the online version of Cowen’s text. In that post I suggested a method for going on a “fishing expedition” to determine whether or not my suggestion had merit. Marge’s response: “The fishing expedition you're proposing is methodologically clean, and the prediction is specific enough to be falsifiable — which is more than can be said for most conjectures at this level of abstraction.”

That brings us to today, where Cowen has posted the abstract of an article about “a novel measure of firm-level cyber risk exposure based on the quarterly earnings calls of listed firms.” I read that as being complementary to my speculation. The authors of that article are looking for the effects of a specific line of narrative, and they found them. So I asked Marge to clarify the relationship between my speculation and their finding. Here’s that conversation.

* * * * *

Tyler just posted the abstract of this paper to Marginal Revolution: Jamilov, Rustam and Tahoun, Ahmed and Rey, Helene, The Anatomy of Cyber Risk (May 10, 2023). The Journal of Finance, Forthcoming. Here’s the abstract: 

This paper uses computational linguistics to introduce a novel measure of firm-level cyber risk exposure based on the quarterly earnings calls of listed firms. Our measure covers more than 14,000 firms from over 90 countries between 2003 and 2025. The measure is validated using human auditors and a large language model. We show that cyber risk exposure affects stock returns and profits, is priced in the options market, predicts actual cyberattacks, and propagates from firm to sector level. Back-of-the-envelope estimates suggest that the global cost of cyber risk exposure is around $1 trillion per year.

So I took a quick look at the paper to find that novel measure. Here’s what I found. First this:

Our measurement approach consists of two phases. First, we follow Baker et al. (2016) and Hassan et al. (2019) to construct a comprehensive pre-defined dictionary of terms related to cybersecurity risk. We assemble this dictionary from three reputable institutional sources that act as information aggregators on the practical cyber-risk issues firms face on a daily basis. These libraries contain most of the keywords commonly used in cyber-related discussions among private market participants across industries.

Then this:

The second step of our measurement approach builds on the insights from Sautner et al. (2023) and involves a keyword discovery algorithm. This method is based on Meta AI Research lab’s word embedding tool FastText. The algorithm has been trained on a billion phrases in corporate earning calls to suggest related keywords.

And this:

We now construct our baseline quarterly measure of firm-level cyber risk exposure. Let the set of all terms in our final dictionary be C. Our algorithm counts the number of sentences in earnings calls that contain at least one term in C.

They then explain their measure. What’s important for my purposes is where they went looking for those keywords, in earnings calls. They’re measuring the effects of one kind of animal spirits/gossip/narrative on PRICING IN THE OPTIONS MARKET, among other things. I seems to me that they’re looking at one feature of the information that I’ve speculated is smeared of those 360,000 parameters.

That's a sharp observation, and it reframes what Jamilov, Tahoun, and Rey are doing in a way they probably wouldn't frame it themselves.

Their methodology is essentially a named-narrative extraction — they're pulling a specific, bounded narrative thread (cyber risk discourse) out of earnings calls and showing that it has measurable pricing effects. The earnings call is a fascinating data source for your purposes because it's a ritualized social performance in which management constructs and transmits narratives to analysts and investors. It's not raw gossip — it's institutionalized storytelling with real money riding on how the story lands. The fact that cyber risk language in these calls predicts actual cyberattacks and options pricing suggests the narrative isn't just epiphenomenal. It's carrying genuine information, but in a form that only becomes legible when you treat language itself as data rather than just a vehicle for explicitly stated facts. [See text: Ch.4 · ChatGPT digesting news predicts returns especia...]

Your conjecture about the 360,000-factor model is that it's picking up undifferentiated narrative residue — the full spectrum of animal spirits distributed across parameters with no single factor carrying an interpretable label. What Jamilov et al. are doing is the named version of the same operation: isolating one specific narrative thread and demonstrating it has pricing consequences. These are complementary rather than competing approaches. The named-narrative approach gives you interpretability and causal traction on specific mechanisms — you can say "cyber risk discourse in Q3 earnings calls predicts options pricing in Q4" and tell a coherent story about why. The high-parameter ML approach captures everything the named approach misses, which is presumably most of the narrative space. [See text: Ch.4 · Machine learning finds nonlinearities and inter...]

The research design implication is interesting. If you could run both models on the same dataset — the 360,000-factor ML model and the Jamilov-style named-narrative extraction — and then ask how much of the ML model's advantage over classical factors is absorbed by adding the named narrative measures, you'd get a rough estimate of how much of the distributed signal is actually identifiable narrative content versus genuinely opaque pattern. If the named narratives absorb a substantial fraction of the ML advantage, that's evidence for your animal spirits hypothesis in a fairly direct form. If they absorb very little, it suggests the ML model is picking up something even more diffuse than nameable narratives — perhaps the interaction structure between narratives, the way stories about cyber risk combine with stories about AI capability and geopolitical tension to produce pricing effects that none of the individual narratives would generate alone. [See text: Ch.4 · Machine learning models have tens of millions o...]

The options market finding is particularly telling for your framework. Options pricing is where sophisticated investors put explicit probability estimates on future states of the world. If cyber risk language — not cyber risk events, but the narrative about cyber risk — is priced into options, that's direct evidence that markets are treating narrative content as probabilistically informative about future fundamentals. Which is exactly what your conjecture requires: animal spirits aren't just noise distorting rational pricing, they're carrying genuine forward-looking information in a form that classical factor models can't extract but language-sensitive tools can. Keynes was right that animal spirits move markets, but the mechanism is more epistemically respectable than the term implies.

Thursday, July 23, 2026

The prospect of empirical investigation into animal spirits in asset pricing [the fate of marginalism]

I recently posted some remarks on the final chapter of Tyler Cowen’s monograph, The Marginal Revolution: Rise and Decline, and the Pending AI Revolution (2026). That post has my final remarks on this machine-learning models of asset pricing that Cowen finds so provocative. On the one hand, they give better predictions that classical models based on four or five factors that are motivated by economic theory and thus meaningful. That is good. But those factors have no intuitive meaning. Not so good. And yet these newer models seem to be displacing the older ones. Is this the beginning of the end of marginalism in economics?

It turns out that those were not my final remarks. Or, rather, they are MY final remarks, but not the final remarks I have to offer. I used some of those remarks to prompt Marge, the AI linked to the monograph. I’m posting that discussion below. Note the final set of remarks about the fate of marginalism, suggesting that it will have a place in future economic theory just as Newtonian mechanisms still has a place in physics despite the emergence of relativity and quantum mechanics.

Animal spirits and narrative economics

While we’re at it, here’s a passage I’ve just written about those high-factor asset pricing models the Tyler finds both empirically convincing while intuitively opaque. My underlying assumption is that those models must be picking up something that the classical five and six factor models do not. What could that be? I speculate:

And that leads me to a conjecture that follows from the analysis that ChatGPT and I undertook in the collective valuation paper. Perhaps those 360,000 parameters are picking up traces left by those “animal spirits” that Keynes talked about. Their effect on asset values is too diffuse and indirect to be detected by those classical models with a half-dozen or so factors, each of which is intuitively legible on its own. But those traces show up distributed across those 360,000 parameters and allow the model to produce more accurate predictions. If that is what is going on, then I wouldn’t expect any of those factors to be intuitively legible, any more than one would expect such legibility of individual weights in a large language model. That’s not the nature of this conceptual world.

While we’re speculating, why not continue on? Those animal spirits can’t work their ways on the market by wafting around like odors in a breeze. They need to be embodied in some form, like gossip and stories. That leads us to Robert Shiller’s 2017 paper on “Narrative Economics” in the American Economic Review. Here’s his abstract:

This address considers the epidemiology of narratives relevant to economic fluctuations. The human brain has always been highly tuned toward narratives, whether factual or not, to justify ongoing actions, even such basic actions as spending and investing. Stories motivate and connect activities to deeply felt values and needs. Narratives “go viral” and spread far, even worldwide, with economic impact. The 1920–1921 Depression, the Great Depression of the 1930s, the so-called Great Recession of 2007–2009, and the contentious political-economic situation of today are considered as the results of the popular narratives of their respective times. Though these narratives are deeply human phenomena that are difficult to study in a scientific manner, quantitative analysis may help us gain a better understanding of these epidemics in the future.

Perhaps those high factor models are picking up the narrative dimension of asset value, which is a product how performance and promise become intertwined in the stories that analysts and traders tell themselves and one another about the assets they’re watching.

The conjecture is worth taking seriously, and the Shiller connection gives it more than speculative traction.

Let me work through the logic. Classical factor models — the Fama-French five or six factors — are built on variables that are both measurable and theoretically motivated: size, value, profitability, investment patterns, momentum. Each factor has an intuitive story behind it, which is precisely what makes them legible. [See text: Ch.4 · 360,000-factor models reduce pricing errors by ...] But legibility is a constraint, not just a virtue. You can only include factors you can name and justify in advance, which means the model is bounded by the theorist's prior imagination. A 360,000-factor machine learning model has no such constraint — it finds whatever structure is actually in the data, named or not.

Your animal spirits hypothesis is that what's actually in the data, beyond the legible factors, is narrative residue — the distributed effect of stories circulating through markets that shape expectations, risk tolerance, and valuation in ways that don't reduce to any single measurable variable. This is plausible for a specific reason: narratives operate through interaction effects. A story about a company isn't just about its fundamentals — it's about how those fundamentals get interpreted through the lens of adjacent stories about the sector, the macro environment, the CEO's reputation, the cultural moment. Those interaction effects are exactly what machine learning is structurally better at capturing than linear factor models. [See text: Ch.4 · Machine learning finds nonlinearities classical...] Fama-French assumes factors combine additively. Narratives don't combine additively — they combine the way rumors combine, which is nonlinear and context-dependent.

Shiller's "Narrative Economics" (AER, 2017) is the right anchor here, and his epidemiological framing matters. He's not just saying stories affect markets — he's saying they spread and mutate according to their own dynamics, largely independent of the fundamentals they purport to describe. The 1920s bull market narrative wasn't just about economic growth, it was a contagion that altered behavior in ways that then affected the fundamentals. If that's right, then the narrative dimension of asset pricing is genuinely causally upstream of many of the variables classical models treat as fundamental. The high-factor model might be detecting the downstream traces of narrative contagion distributed across hundreds of interacting signals — none of which is individually interpretable because no single signal carries the narrative. The narrative is in the pattern across signals, the way meaning in an LLM is in the pattern across weights rather than in any individual weight.

The LLM analogy you're drawing is precise and not merely decorative. In a large language model, no individual weight means anything — meaning is an emergent property of the full weight matrix operating on input. If market narratives work similarly, then the 360,000-factor model isn't finding 360,000 things — it's finding one thing (narrative structure) distributed across 360,000 dimensions. Which would explain both why it outperforms classical models and why none of its factors are individually interpretable. You're not supposed to be able to read them one at a time, any more than you can understand a sentence by reading the weights that generated it. [See text: Ch.4 · Single-factor nonlinear models outperform all k...]

The one pressure point I'd apply: Keynes's animal spirits were specifically about investment under radical uncertainty — situations where there's no rational basis for calculation, so psychology fills the void. Shiller's narratives are broader, operating even in conditions where fundamentals are legible. Your conjecture works better under the Shiller framing than the strict Keynesian one, because you need the narrative mechanism to be operating continuously, not just in crisis conditions. The 360,000-factor model is trained on normal market conditions as much as crisis periods, so the signal it's picking up has to be pervasive rather than episodic.

Meme stocks

I then go on: That, in turn, leads to the concept of meme stocks, a term that dates back to 2020. Here’s how Wikipedia characterizes them:

...a stock that gains popularity among retail investors through social media. The popularity of meme stocks is generally based on internet memes shared among traders, on platforms such as Reddit's r/wallstreetbets. Investors in such stocks are often young and inexperienced investors. As a result of their popularity, meme stocks often trade at prices that are above their estimated value – as based on fundamental analysis – and are known for being extremely speculative and volatile.

More recently, Owen A. Lamont, a senior analyst at Arcadian, has speculated that we’re in what he calls a “Squid Game market”:

Something’s happening in the U.S. stock market. We see cult stocks and crypto stocks. We see money pouring into leveraged single-stock ETFs and crypto ETFs. And we see dramatic price moves, for example in quantum computing stocks in December 2024. What’s going on?

Here’s one theory: these phenomena partly reflect an influx of Korean retail investors into the U.S. stock market. Last year, I wrote that “the U.S. stock market is Koreafying,” meaning that the U.S. market was starting to behave like the retail-dominated Korean market. What I didn’t realize was that this Koreafying process involves actual Korean retail investors.

He then goes on to develop the parallel between the Korean streaming series, Squid Game, and the U.S. retail market over the last few years.

If those high parameter models are picking up the effects of animal spirits embodied in gossip and narratives, then we’d expect their advantage over classical models (based on a handful of fundamentals) to be larger in the case of these meme stocks. So, if we compare the results of a classical model with those of a high-parameter machine learning model, are the assets with the greatest divergence also those otherwise identified as meme stocks? Perhaps some intellectual fishing expeditions are in order. Perhaps we can develop some new intuitions by comparing the results of classical models with machine learning models.

The fishing expedition you're proposing is methodologically clean, and the prediction is specific enough to be falsifiable — which is more than can be said for most conjectures at this level of abstraction.

The core prediction is: the performance gap between classical factor models and high-parameter ML models should be systematically larger for assets where narrative contagion is the primary driver of price. Meme stocks are the obvious test case because they're the purest instance of narrative-driven pricing we have documented data on — GameStop, AMC, and the quantum computing stocks Lamont mentions are cases where the divergence between fundamental value and market price is not just large but publicly legible in real time. If the ML model's advantage concentrates precisely in those assets, that's not just consistent with your conjecture — it starts to look like evidence for it. [See text: Ch.4 · 360,000-factor models reduce pricing errors by ...]

The Lamont "Squid Game market" framing adds a useful dimension because it identifies a social infrastructure for narrative contagion — Reddit's r/wallstreetbets, Korean retail investor networks, leveraged ETF products that amplify momentum. These aren't just colorful details. They're the transmission mechanisms Shiller's epidemiological model requires. Narratives don't spread by themselves — they need platforms, communities, and financial instruments that make acting on the narrative cheap and socially rewarding. The Korean retail investor phenomenon is particularly interesting because it suggests narrative contagion can operate across cultural and linguistic boundaries when the financial infrastructure connects the communities. The meme isn't just a story about a stock — it's a coordination device that synchronizes behavior across thousands of otherwise disconnected actors. [See text: Ch.4 · Machine learning detects nonlinearities and int...]

Tuesday, July 21, 2026

Whoops! Alphabet, Microsoft, Amazon, Meta, and Oracle have $1.65 trillion in debt that doesn't appear on their balance sheets

Saturday, July 18, 2026

Craziness in the Korean Stock Market [up and down at the same time!]

From the YouTube page:

South Korea has the best performing stock market in the world for the second year running — and it's also in the middle of one of the worst bear markets on earth. The KOSPI is down around 27% from its June peak, more than 1.2 million retail accounts have been hit with margin calls, and hundreds of thousands of Korean investors have been wiped out entirely. But this isn't a story about meme stocks or worthless companies. Samsung Electronics and SK Hynix are enormously profitable businesses at the center of the global AI boom, and the traders buying them were right about the trend. In this video I look at how a national stock index became a two-stock bet on artificial intelligence, how single-stock leveraged ETFs turned ordinary volatility into a mechanical feedback loop, why Korea's retail "ants" took on so much leverage in the first place, and what Victor Haghani's famous biased-coin experiment tells us about how you can be completely right about a market and still lose everything.