Three quarters of a trillion dollars of AI capital spending this year, against $150–200B of genuine AI revenue. Four channels carry that gap into the wider economy: how the buildout is financed, who pays for the power, whether the capital can earn a return, and how much of the market now rides on it.
This page has two authors and says which is which. The essay was written by hand. The research behind it was gathered, computed and drafted with AI, then checked against primary sources. We publish the line between them because a reader deserves to know which is which, and because we would want to know.
Written by hand, start to finish. The essay in the next section, and nothing else on this page. Published as authored.
Every other section. Gathered, computed and drafted with AI, then checked against primary sources by researchers working independently of each other.
Every number carries the filing, regulator or lab it came from, and the date it was true. Where a figure is our own estimate or our own arithmetic, the page says so in the line that reports it.
It’s July 4th in Chappell Hill, Texas. The “town” of Chappell Hill is more of a spot on a map than a town. And yet there is community. They throng along the sides of the street each year for the independence day parade.
Our family, huddled together and joined by thousands — a mix of full time residents, weekenders and Houstonians looking for nostalgia — watch as the parade begins. The first in the parade is Jane Smith’s Sebring carrying the unofficial mayor along with a few business owners. Jane’s Sebring will come back shuttling more of the crowd for their turn waving at the sweat drenched attendees.
Between sightings of Jane’s Sebring, attendees get brief periods of shade cast by massive combines, tractors, and commercial agricultural equipment. Chappell Hill, though just an hour from Houston, is rural Texas. You can’t escape the centuries old economic roots.
Around the 4th — thinking back on years of watching the independence day procession — the similarity with the pending AI bubble struck me.
Imagine new milling capacity was announced in Washington County. Word gets around, the demand will be huge for all grains traditionally harvested in the area — much larger than ever before; several orders of magnitude of additional demand. Everyone would build.
Gentlemen ‘ranchers’ would convert latent fields into tillable acreage. New barns, silos, access roads and equipment would be put in service. Nobody is waiting to see the first harvest, they’re depending upon the demand given the expectation of the new mill.
The independence day parade would be longer. Shiny enormous new combines and harvesters would provide hours of constant shade as proud farmers rumbled them by a cooler crowd. The attendees might even cheer — growth is in the air.
This is roughly where we are in the AI cycle right now. Companies building the compute capacity are dedicating nearly a trillion dollars this year — more than twice last year’s record blasting pace. But the harvest is pro-forma, expected but not delivered. The demand they are building for may well show up. But the buildings and infrastructure are going up first.
Those outside the industry feel justified — they’ve used the technology and can attest to its revolutionary potential. Beyond that, they have watched the investment pour in and seen the promised returns. Just like the independence day parade attendees, the investment provides shade from the heat. It feels electric, needed and important and there’s a little something in it for the viewer.
But the part those participants don’t notice is the amount of the investment that is short-lived. The barn, silos and roads will last decades, the tractors and prepared acreage will wear out in a few years. About sixty cents of every dollar spent on AI infrastructure goes into the computer chips, and those chips wear out the way a laptop wears out. And if you haven’t noticed, with the new demands on CPU and memory, they wear out a lot faster than before.
On the company’s books, though, the chips are being consumed slowly. Bought with debt and put in service quick; the asset shows up on their balance sheet. Reasonable for sure. However, there is healthy debate on the actual life of these chips. It bleeds onto the P&L through depreciation over six years — or more.
None of this is necessarily dishonest. But, like all bubbles, a market full of honest participants can paint an altogether dishonest picture of the future. This cost is being spread out over time and the pressure to elongate the useful life of these investments is extreme. If all the CAPEX stopped cold, the wear-and-tear on their books has to roughly quadruple from about $178B per year to about $660B per year against combined total profits of $511B. That’s not a forecast or a warning; that’s second grade arithmetic and the equation ends in a number below zero.
Then there’s a deeper question — who is paying for the barns, tractors and fields? It used to be the farmer’s money — retained earnings from decades of hard work. But that’s not enough now to get ready for the demand. Instead, and increasingly more troublesome, it is borrowed. The share funded by debt went from one dollar in eleven two years ago to one in three today.
A lot of that lending isn’t coming from banks — they know better. It comes from investment funds, which get their money from insurance companies and pension plans, which get their from ordinary people’s retirement accounts. There’s nothing sinister going on here; that’s how investment money works. And in a market driven economy, it flows to the area of greatest perceived need and impact. But, that’s also how bubbles work — when the outside observer willingly cheers on the flow despite the growing risks.
The strangest part of this dynamic that is somewhat new is the circularity — so called. Retained earnings, private investment and debt aren’t enough. The company selling the chips has also invested billions into the companies buying the chips, and has promised to buy back capacity those companies can’t sell, and has now organized a $500B fund to help other people lend against the chips it manufactures.
Picture the tractor dealers lending the farmers their down payments, then co-signing on their loans, then guaranteeing to buy any grain they can’t sell. Every individual step is defensible. Together they mean that if one farmer fails, it isn’t one farmer’s problem — the dealer is on the hook too, and so is everyone who lent on the dealer’s good name.
Meanwhile some of the cost has already left the tech industry entirely. These buildings need more than chips. They need enormous amounts of electricity. The wires and power plants to serve them are paid by everyone on the grid. In the mid-Atlantic, the regional grid’s own watchdog calculated that data center demand added about $9B to one year’s power cost — a 174 percent increase on what it otherwise would have been. Your neighbor who has never heard of any of this is paying for a piece of it on their monthly utility bill.
Texas, which usually is the last place to slow anything down, is flagging caution. It is sitting on a 474 gigawatt request to plug in — more than five times the most electricity the state has ever used at once. They inspected how few of these requests were viable and halted the process in August pending an audit due in December.
So, what does this all add up to? Not a prediction, not a line in the sand, but a major caution flag that the market is doing what it does. Money flows into promise and if that promise shows up later than expected, then bad things happen. This is predictable and ordinary in a market economy where individual actors can choose to act against that promise. The problem, as always, is that money flows easiest to those investing into the excitement.
Reality can meet promises. In fact, reality can overshoot promises. And in the case of new paradigms, like AI, that is more than just possible. For euphoria to overshoot, market participants have to overwhelmingly agree. There is plenty of attention on this looming concern. As a result, it might already be priced in; the bubble might have a relief valve. In fact, the bubble might not be a bubble at all. It might not be enough.
Compute demand is compounding faster than capital expenses by some estimates. And while chips depreciate in usefulness, they don’t in utilization. CPUs and DRAM don’t burn out if well maintained. They don’t get slower. The risk is new improvements make them obsolete. And all of this could mean the market is right on the need. Even the excesses of the 90s paved the way for the fiber layout that powered the early 2000s.
The mill could be coming to Chappell Hill for good reason and it might not be enough. Regardless though, even if demand fails to meet the expectation, the mill, the barns, the roads, and most of the equipment will serve a different purpose. They will find a clearing price and a different crop will move through it all later. Lots of people lost money on the fiber rollout of the 90s so that others could make billions on Google a decade later.
The whole cycle can continue and can even work if revenue keeps growing fast for another six years. At roughly fifty percent revenue growth per year for the hyperscalers, measured against capital spending that is itself still growing thirty percent, the money spent gets earned back around 2032 and the barns were a good idea. At thirty-five percent — it never catches up no matter how the accounting is handled. Everything else is just a detail. The uncomfortable thing about the gap isn’t that it is large. It’s that it’s narrow enough that no one can tell you which side of it we’re on.
We aren’t immune to this cycle. We have real stakes. Our companies all sit under a dark cloud of competition from the very models that promise such potential. In an instant, behavioral norms that form the basis for good product design can change, business processes morph, and value shift to other areas on the human-to-computer value chain. The infrastructure players, in a desperate attempt to drive revenue could demand it from our portfolio. Competitors could emerge instantly from nascent departments of one-time cooperators. The risk is there.
Beyond the usual business risks looms one larger. A founder could do everything right, drive top decile growth, deliver excellent SaaS metrics, and emerge for exit to find multiples compressed and an empty hall where acquirers used to gather. Just like 2001, when a bubble pops, all risk assets take a dive.
For founders, our primary constituents, the implications are profound. The cost of compute has been dropping recently and may continue to drop as capacity comes online before demand. However, if the demand does catch up, expect to be rate limited by the major models. A big reason so many hyperscalers are investing so much is to have primary access to compute.
Imagine finding an ACV tripling agentic feature in your application. For a while everything looks great. Customers are signing up, revenue is surging, and profits are forming. You’ve also embedded your preferred LLM into your operations. It answers customer tickets, manages your pipeline, prepares your financials, joins your team slack sessions. Efficiency is raging. Quietly AI has embedded itself into everything you do. Imagine how loud an email rate-limiting your use down by 50% immediately would be.
This is not just likely; it’s a near certainty. And it doesn’t have to come from other customers with greater access. It can come from the looming energy crisis. We live in Texas and remember the winter storm Uri all too well. The grid reliability is now an input into whether your company can meet its SLA.
So, what does that mean for you? First, you must build model portability as a first step. This allows you to migrate to a different model provider or incorporate another one as a backup for when service interruption occurs. Second, if your application has customer financial risk associated with downtime, layering on reserved GPU rental can be helpful. This is expensive, but protects your service level.
For LPs, a very important constituent for us, the implications are similarly profound. The AI revolution — or rather the ‘promise of AI revolution’ has already worked itself into the price of risky assets. The S&P 500 would be down marginally this year (YTD) if you strip out the AI boon. And that’s against a 7-10% earnings lift. All risky assets have re-priced and the gains you see in your portfolio are built on this promise of continued good times. That’s a shaky position.
Lean to hard earnings priced for the long term. The inflated valuations of AI driven names and the propped up valuations that are selling into it are going to fall hard. Start steering allocations into low earnings multiples — like enterprise software priced at 8x cash flow (our fund III thesis). It’s time to start thinking about intrinsic value from a value-perspective.
Bubbles are easy to call but hard to predict. There’s little cost to calling the contrarian view and a lot to gain if you’re right. Will the shade at the parade prove necessary to meet the promised demand or will it sit idle shading empty fields? Time will tell.
Each of these is arithmetic rather than forecast, which is why each survives a change of narrative. All three are computed from filings on a consistent June-2026 quarter.
On a consistent June-2026 quarter, the big four ran capex of $165.0B against depreciation and amortization of $44.5B, a ratio of 3.71×, with operating income of $127.6B. Straight-line depreciation with flat capex converges on depreciation equalling capex. So if capex froze at the current run-rate of about $660B a year and nobody touched a useful-life assumption, annual depreciation still has to climb from about $178B to about $660B. That +$482B a year arrives against roughly $511B of annualized operating income. The useful-life argument everybody is having is worth about $74B a year on the 2026 vintage at a six-to-three-year change. That is 14% of operating income, and roughly one sixth of the catch-up nobody is arguing about.
Moody’s counted $969B of total future lease commitments across the big five, of which $662B had not yet commenced, equal to 113% of their combined adjusted debt. Leases are not capitalized until they commence. Alongside that sit bankruptcy-remote special purpose vehicles, a data center securitization market that went from $4B in 2020 to $61B in 2026, and a $28B residual-value guarantee that Meta discloses in a footnote with no balance-sheet liability recorded. Ernst & Young designated the Hyperion treatment a critical audit matter, which is a disclosure flag rather than an adverse opinion.
Starting from about $175B of third-party AI revenue against a roughly $400B requirement: if capex keeps growing 30% a year, revenue growing 50% a year does not catch it until 2032, and 40% never catches it at all. But if capex growth slows to 10%, revenue growing just 30% catches it by 2031. A capex slowdown is bad for GDP and for Nvidia’s multiple, and good for whether the installed base earns out. Those pull in opposite directions, which is why so much of the commentary is incoherent. Both dials are in the model in Section IV.
The change is not that capex rose. It is that the marginal dollar changed hands. It moved from operating cash flow to bonds and SPVs and private credit, and each step made it harder to see.
| Instrument | Then | Now | Read |
|---|---|---|---|
| Oracle 5-yr CDS | ~144bp (start of 2026) | ~215bp (mid-2026) | Already at levels last seen in 2009 by December 2025, so this is continuation rather than a July event. S&P downgraded Oracle to BBB−/A-3, citing OpenAI concentration. |
| Meta 5-yr CDS | 57bp (Jan 2026) | 87bp (Jul 2026) | Record wides around the $25B May issuance. |
| Apple 5-yr CDS | 24bp | 35bp | The control group. Tech is not wide; AI-capex tech is wide. |
| Hyperscaler IG vs broad IG | ~20–25bp (early 2025) | ~35bp (Jul 2026), peaked ~50bp | Widening has stayed AI-specific. Spillover into the broad index is the thing to watch, and it has not happened. |
| Data center AAA CMBS | 153bp over SOFR (mid-2025) | ~165–168bp (late Jul 2026) | Now trades wider than AAA office. The most striking single print in the file. |
| New-issue performance | n/a | 78 of 91 hyperscaler 2026 bonds below issue, median +22bp | Reuters analysis as of 28 Jul 2026. A broken new-issue market. |
The private market has not repriced. BIS Bulletin 120, published 7 January 2026, finds AI-related private credit priced at a 6.2pp spread against 6.1pp for non-AI loans, on near-identical maturities. That is essentially no premium for obsolescence, single-tenant or construction risk. The public market has moved. The private market has not, and that gap is where a mark-to-market surprise lives.
Circularity turns one default into three. NVIDIA holds equity in CoreWeave and Nebius, has committed billions to OpenAI, carries a $6.3B obligation to purchase CoreWeave’s unsold capacity through 13 April 2032, and on 10 August 2026 signed non-binding memoranda with Apollo, BlackRock, Blackstone, Brookfield, Goldman Sachs and KKR to mobilize over $500B of third-party capital. The underlying credit thesis of that platform is the residual value of NVIDIA’s own product. The BIS names the hazard precisely: risks of the same asset being pledged multiple times.
One joint is weaker than the rest. J.P. Morgan research from May 2026 puts 60% of capacity targeted for 2027 completion as not yet broken ground, with 7% more delayed. Credit support in these structures usually turns on completion. TeraWulf’s own filing says the Google backstop of its Fluidstack lease becomes effective only once the lease commences, and that a termination for construction delay beyond 180 days would not trigger it. The backstop is real once the building is finished. It does not cover construction risk.
This is the channel where cost is already landing on people who never signed anything. And it is where Texas, of all places, moved fastest to stop it.
The 474 GW figure is ERCOT’s June 2026 number, cited in the Governor’s August letter, and it is 5.2× the state’s all-time peak of 91,089 MW. The queue was 63 GW at the end of 2024. Against that, 17 large loads totalling 6.6 GW have cleared stability assessment. That ratio is not a queue realization rate. It is the near-term energization cohort under Batch Zero, and it still needs energization approval. Abbott ordered an audit on 3 August 2026, ERCOT paused Batch Zero the same day, the audit is due 10 December 2026 and study completion has moved to 9 April 2027.
Pre-2025 contracts, with a five-year median term and little collateral, left the tail with ratepayers. Post-2025 tariffs put real money in front of it. Virginia’s new GS-5 rate class, effective 1 January 2027, requires a 14-year contract, minimum 85% of contracted transmission and distribution and 60% of generation, and $1.5M per MW of collateral. The State Corporation Commission struck about $350M of recovery tied to speculative early-phase projects. Lawrence Berkeley’s August 2026 survey of 55 large-load tariffs found the median minimum contract term moved from 5 years pre-2025 to 12 years post-2025. In Texas, SB 6 sets the 75 MW threshold and gives ERCOT authority to curtail large loads in a firm-load-shed emergency, while the $50,000 per MW fee and pre-study security are proposed PUCT rules rather than enacted statute. Do not underwrite against a draft.
On PJM: the capacity market cleared at its cap for three consecutive delivery years, and the RTO fell short of its reliability requirement in both 2027/28, by 6,623 MW, and 2028/29, by 6,831 MW. The Independent Market Monitor’s uncapped counterfactual, run on the 2026/27 auction, puts the suppressed cost at a 19.7% uplift: $19.29B against the $16.12B that actually cleared.
Published estimates mostly do not publish their assumptions. Sequoia’s $600B question, Bain’s $2T by 2030 and Goldman’s $7.6tn framework all leave them out. This model publishes everything. Move the sliders and every number recomputes.
The bull case: AWS operating margin 39.3% and Google Cloud 35.6%, both Q2 2026, both after depreciation on current schedules, both from SEC exhibits. AWS revenue grew 37%, its fastest in eighteen quarters. Google’s token throughput went from 480 trillion to over 3,200 trillion per month in twelve months, stated by Google. NVIDIA’s Q2 FY27 data center revenue was $89.0B, up 117% year over year, with Q3 guided to about $108B assuming zero China compute revenue.
The bear case, every line confirmed to the SEC filing: CoreWeave’s Q2 2026 revenue of $2,575M against depreciation and amortization of $1,393M, which is 54% of revenue, an operating loss of $49M and a net loss of $626M after $640M of interest. That is at a roughly six-year GPU life. At four years the operating loss runs to about $746M; at three years, $1,442M. The merchant compute layer does not cover its own depreciation at any life shorter than about six years, before interest.
The asymmetry worth acting on. Roughly sixty percent of the capital is silicon: a three to six year life carrying about 90% of the annual depreciation charge. Forty percent is shell, substation and interconnect: a 25 to 40 year life, a re-tenantable residual and a worsening supply constraint. Those are two ends of the same trade and they should not be underwritten at the same multiple. And the operators have it backwards. CoreWeave books about six years on GPUs, Amazon books five.
How much of the economy this is, and how much of the market it is. They are not the same, and the second is much larger than the first.
| Estimate | Value | Source |
|---|---|---|
| Info-processing equipment & software | 92% of growth | Furman, H1 2025 |
| AI investment incl. R&D | 0.97pp / 39% | St. Louis Fed, first 9M 2025 |
| Same measure, year 2000 | 0.81pp / 28% | St. Louis Fed |
| Data center investment, gross | 0.41pp | Fed Board FEDS 2025-109 |
| Net of imports (44% domestic) | 0.18pp | Fed Board FEDS 2025-109 |
| AI capex support to growth, 2026 | ~1.4pp | Bridgewater |
Furman’s category is information-processing equipment and software, which is broader than “data centers.” That phrase is press shorthand. The Fed’s 44% domestic-content figure is an assumption-driven estimate rather than a measured statistic, but the direction is the single largest source of overstatement in the public debate: GPUs and memory are largely imported, which halves the domestic impulse.
Top-ten weight in the S&P 500 sits at roughly 38 to 40%, against a 27% peak in 2000. AI-linked names are about 45% of index capitalization on Goldman’s classification, which is an estimate rather than a measured weight, since “AI-linked” has no standard definition. Goldman’s century study finds seven prior episodes of extreme concentration in which the index rose more often than it fell over the following twelve months. The two exceptions were 1973 and 2000, and both preceded recessions. That study is dated March 2024, when top-ten stood at 33%.
On the ex-AI question, which has moved: Goldman rather than S&P Dow Jones launched an ex-AI index on 20 February 2026. By May the headline index was up about 7% and ex-AI was down 1.84%. But the relationship inverted from late June 2026, and ex-AI has outperformed since, with correlation running −0.53 to −0.60. The market now trades AI and non-AI as a pair. The May reading is not the current one.
| Metric | Telecom 1996–2002 | Today |
|---|---|---|
| Peak capex scale | Comms equipment peaked at nearly 7% of total private investment in 2000; 1.2% of GDP | About 3% of GDP 2027–29 on consensus (Apollo), roughly 2.5× telecom and below housing’s 6.6% in 2005 |
| Rate of change | n/a | About 0.85pp of GDP per year, versus about 0.5pp at the housing boom’s fastest. Slok’s emphasis is the speed rather than the level |
| Drawdown | −31% peak to trough in four quarters; communications employment 1.59M to 1.30M, an 18% fall over 28 months | Untested |
| Balance sheets | Overwhelmingly debt-funded against no operating cash flow; sector profits negative in 2000 and 2001 | Lease-adjusted net debt to equity below 0.1 for the hyperscalers, versus about 0.6 for the S&P ex-hyperscalers. Genuinely different. |
| Valuation | PEG 4–8× at the peak | PEG 1–3×; tech multiples about 50% of dot-com peak. Genuinely different. |
| Asset life | Fiber lasted 25+ years and sat dark for a decade, about 10% lit by 2004 | GPUs retire in 3 to 6 years. Overbuild self-corrects faster, and the write-down arrives in quarters. Cuts both ways. |
| Where the leverage sits | On the operating companies’ balance sheets, visible | $969B of lease commitments, SPVs, private credit, vendor-financing loops. Relocated, not absent. |
| Concentration | Damage contained to a sector | Top-ten about 38–40%; AI-linked about 45% of equity capitalization. The index is the sector. |
Each line below is a number that gets published, and each moves the thesis in a direction that can be stated in advance. That is the difference between a watchlist and a worry.
| Signal | Where | What confirms the bear case |
|---|---|---|
| Useful-life disclosure | Q3/Q4 2026 filings, Oct–Nov 2026 | Any hyperscaler shortening server lives. Cembalest’s sensitivity for a six-to-three-year change: −7% EPS at Amazon, Meta and Microsoft, −6% at Alphabet, −17% at Oracle |
| ERCOT Batch Zero audit | ERCOT and PUCT, due 10 Dec 2026 | A verified cohort far below the 474 GW headline. Study completion now pushed to 9 Apr 2027 |
| PUCT large-load rules | Texas PUCT, adoption expected by Dec 2026 | The $50k per MW fee and security surviving to final adoption, or being weakened |
| AI credit spread spillover | Broad IG index vs AI-linked | Widening stops being AI-specific |
| GPU rental rates | Silicon Data, neocloud trackers | Renewed decline in the neocloud tier, which fell about 50% a year while hyperscaler pricing fell about 18%. Note H100 spot was up 33% year over year in Aug 2026 |
| Hyperscaler capex guidance | Q3 2026 calls | A cut, which would also lower the return hurdle. Read it against Section IV rather than as a single-signed signal |
| OpenAI funding vs Oracle obligation | Oracle RPO disclosure | A shortfall against obligations beginning 2027 on about $40B of current revenue. The roughly $300B attribution is inferred rather than disclosed |
| Construction starts vs 2027 targets | J.P. Morgan, developer disclosure | The 60%-unstarted figure failing to fall. Completion-contingent credit support does not cover construction delay |
Three inputs remain genuinely uncertain and should be treated that way. The $150–200B third-party AI revenue estimate is ours rather than anyone’s published figure, and no one publishes the eliminations between model labs and the clouds they buy from. It is the single input most worth commissioning properly, because the whole crossover analysis pivots on it. The 60% IT share of capex is our assumption. And several figures here rest on aggregators republishing Reuters, Bloomberg and Barclays rather than the wire itself.
For founders. Build model portability first, and prove it with production traffic rather than a configuration file. A failover that has never carried real requests is an assumption. Measure gross margin on the AI line separately from the day it ships, because the agentic feature that triples ACV also introduces a cost you do not control. Then buy committed capacity in proportion to the revenue that depends on it.
For limited partners. With top-ten weight near 38 to 40% and AI-linked names near 45% of index capitalization, a diversified public sleeve is a concentrated AI position. A large drawdown hits the public book, the denominator and private marks at once. The useful discipline is to state which regime an exit assumption sits in and show the other one, because the market is now trading AI and non-AI as a pair rather than a trend.
Across seven prior episodes of extreme concentration the index rose more often than it fell over the following twelve months. The two exceptions, 1973 and 2000, both preceded recessions. Concentration alone has never been a timing signal. Concentration together with a capex and credit turn has been. Today has both ingredients present and neither confirmed, and that is a defensible thing to say in a room without predicting anything.