I used to think markets moved on logic. That’s cute, right? I had this neat, orderly vision in my head where earnings, fundamentals, and long-term strategy dictated price movements. Companies would perform well, stocks would go up. Companies would struggle, stocks would go down. It was clean. Predictable. Almost… respectable. Then one morning, I watched a trillion-dollar company lose tens of billions in market cap before I finished my coffee—because of a headline. Not earnings. Not guidance. A headline. That was the day I stopped thinking of the market as rational and started thinking of it as reactive, emotional, and deeply addicted to news . And once you see that, you can’t unsee it. The First Time I Saw Billions Vanish I remember the moment vividly. A notification popped up on my phone—one of those “breaking news” alerts that feels important even when it isn’t. Except this time, it was . Something about regulation. Or a lawsuit. Or a vague “concern” from a government of...
I used to believe the market was rational. Not perfectly rational—I'm not delusional—but rational enough. Rational in the sense that if you understood a company’s fundamentals—revenue growth, margins, free cash flow, competitive positioning—you could reasonably estimate its value and expect the market to converge toward that reality over time. That belief didn’t collapse overnight. It eroded. Slowly. Quietly. Trade by trade. Because what I started noticing—what I couldn’t unsee once it clicked—was that large-cap stocks weren’t just moving on fundamentals. They were being repriced in real time by something far less tangible and far more powerful: Narrative. And once I understood that, I realized I hadn’t been investing in companies. I’d been investing in stories. The First Time I Noticed Something Was Off It started with a stock that made no sense. On paper, nothing had fundamentally changed. Revenue growth was steady. Margins were stable. Guidance hadn’t materially shif...