I used to think I understood the market. Not in a “CFA charterholder with twelve monitors and a Bloomberg terminal humming like a nuclear reactor” kind of way. More like the average overconfident adult who has survived a few bull runs, memorized a couple of ratios, and once said the phrase “forward-looking multiples” at a barbecue without being asked to leave. I thought I got it. Leadership rotates. Cycles cycle. Money flows like water—from one hot sector to the next, from growth to value, from “this is the future” to “this is somehow still alive.” It was comforting. Predictable, even. Tech leads. Then it cools. Industrials step in. Energy has its midlife crisis moment. Financials pretend they’re exciting again. Then back to tech, because of course. It was like watching a group of overpaid relay runners pass a baton labeled “market dominance,” each pretending they weren’t completely exhausted when they got it. Then AI showed up. And instead of a relay race, the baton got replaced with ...
I used to think investing in AI meant picking the smartest company in the room. Find the one with the best model. The flashiest demo. The CEO who talks like they’re one product launch away from rewriting reality. Buy the stock, sit back, and let the future compound. That worked—briefly. Then I realized something uncomfortable. The real money isn’t always in the intelligence. It’s in the infrastructure that makes intelligence possible. And once that clicked, I stopped looking at AI like a software story and started seeing it for what it really is: an industrial revolution disguised as code. The Illusion of the “AI Company” Everyone wants to own the next breakthrough model. It feels intuitive. Intelligence is the product, right? But here’s the problem: intelligence is becoming commoditized faster than people want to admit. Models improve, competitors catch up, open-source alternatives emerge, and suddenly what looked like a moat starts to feel like a temporary lead. Meanwhile...