I’ve noticed something about the AI conversation: it’s still mostly framed as a stock-picking game. Which companies win, which ones lose, and how much upside is left in the winners. That’s the fun part, and it’s the part investors like to talk about, but I think it skips the more uncomfortable question, the one that actually determines what equities are worth in the long run.
Because if AI and robotics really deliver what people are promising, if we really move into an abundance economy where the cost of producing many goods and services collapses, then we’re not just talking about a new wave of productivity. We’re talking about deflation, and deflation has a way of rewriting rules that investors treat as laws of nature.
My working assumption is blunt: Over the next couple of years, most white-collar work starts getting destroyed at scale, and in the five years after that the same happens to blue-collar work as robotics catches up. So call it ten years until “most people” are structurally out of the labor market, at least in the way we currently define labor. We can argue about timelines, but the direction seems obvious to me: cognition gets automated first, then physical work, and then you have a society that can produce almost everything without, or with far less, human input.
The upside is of course abundance. But the downside is that abundance has a price too, and that price might show up in places investors are not modeling at all.
Abundance can be deflationary, and deflation rewrites the rules
If AI and robots take over production, the cost curve collapses. That means we should see an era of mass deflation, where a broad basket of goods and services gets cheaper each year. Not the 2–3% kind of “central bank target” story, but potentially prices going down by 20% per year in important categories, or maybe even more, for a long time. It won’t be uniform across everything, and some categories will stay sticky, but the direction is hard to escape: when marginal production costs approach zero, prices tend to follow.
And the moment you accept that, you run into the first big investing problem: “Cost goes down” does not automatically mean “profits go up.”
Why “the winners” might still get squeezed
Even the companies that survive the AI transition may face a different kind of pressure than investors are used to. Deflation does not just make consumers happy, it changes what pricing power means, and it turns competition into something closer to a knife fight.
Take Tesla, just as an easy example because it forces the question into the open. Tesla talks about selling the Optimus robots in the $20k–$30k range. Fine. But in a world where robots build robots, where factories become more automated, where supply chains get optimized by AI, and where competitors also have robots and AI, why would the long-term selling price remain $20k–$30k?
If Tesla can eventually build an Optimus for $5,000, that does not mean Tesla gets to keep the rest as profit forever. In a competitive market, prices drop. They have to drop, because everyone’s costs are dropping too. It becomes less about “can you build it” and more about “how much of the consumer surplus can you keep before a competitor takes it.
Or take Amazon: it has scale, logistics, distribution, cloud, and an ecosystem, but a lot of what makes Amazon powerful is operational excellence and coordination, and AI makes coordination cheaper for everyone. If AI turns a bunch of smaller players into “mini Amazons” in specific niches or if AI agents threaten to disrupt Amazon’s model, pricing pressure rises, and even the giant gets pulled into a more competitive equilibrium.
So yes, costs collapse, but prices collapse too. And that is not the story most DCF models are telling.
My “90% die” thesis, stated more defensibly
I used “90% of companies could go bankrupt” as a provocative way of saying: I think the majority of public companies are structurally unprepared for the regime we’re moving into. Here’s the more precise version of that claim.
A large chunk of listed companies exist because they sit in one of these positions:
- They are a bundle of humans performing repeatable cognitive work (analysis, support, coordination, reporting, marketing, sales ops, basic legal work, basic finance work).
- They are a thin layer of distribution that used to be expensive (middlemen, aggregators, brokers, certain marketplaces).
- They are a branded wrapper on commodity production and their differentiation is mostly marketing and shelf space.
- They are a regulated monopoly or oligopoly whose margins depend on the fact that entry has been hard, not because the product is inherently hard.
AI attacks (1) directly. It attacks (2) by lowering transaction and discovery costs. It attacks (3) by accelerating competition and by making “good enough” alternatives easier to create. It even attacks (4) over time, because regulators eventually have to respond to public pressure when the gap between “what something costs to produce” and “what you pay” becomes absurdly visible.
That’s why I think a lot of companies won’t survive, not because they all literally file for bankruptcy, but because their economic role gets competed away. They become irrelevant, acquired for scraps, or slowly melted down.
And that leads to the next idea: if most companies are disrupted, then a small set of companies becomes dominant. And that creates a different problem.
Universal basic income changes the tax base, and that hits equity returns
If most people don’t have jobs, the income tax base collapses. In many countries, income taxes are a major source of revenue. If labor income disappears, the state has to fund society some other way, especially if it’s paying universal basic income at scale. That money has to come from somewhere.
It’s obviously not going to come from the unemployed, so it will likely come from capital. And more specifically, it will come from the small set of companies that survive and dominate production, because that’s where the cash flow is.
This is where the stock market story starts to feel naive. If my “many companies die” assumption is even partially correct, then the remaining giants effectively become the tax base. And once you realize that, you get forced into a scenario that almost nobody puts in their spreadsheets: corporate profit being taxed at levels we haven’t seen in modern times.
Pick a number. 60%? 80%? I’m not claiming we’ll literally see 90% corporate taxes, but I am saying the direction of political pressure is obvious. If society wants stability and most people don’t earn wages, “tax the winners” becomes the most natural move in the world, especially when those winners are visible, concentrated, and globally powerful.
We’re already seeing the Overton window shift on wealth taxes, capital gains taxes, and new forms of “solidarity” taxation across jurisdictions. It’s not hard to imagine a future where the largest AI and robotics firms are treated like utilities, expected to fund the social contract.
That’s the key point investors miss: the more the winners win, the more they become the funding mechanism for everyone else.
So what does this mean for stock prices?
Stock prices are supposed to reflect discounted future cash flows. In an AI-driven abundance economy, you can get a strange combination:
- Revenue pools shrink in real terms because prices fall.
- Margins compress because competition accelerates.
- Taxes rise because governments need a new base to fund society.
If those three forces show up together, then the standard “AI will boost productivity therefore stocks go up forever” narrative is incomplete at best. You can still have a handful of dominant firms, and you can still have massive output growth, and yet equity returns could be lower than people expect because the surplus is competed away or taxed away.
This is why I suspect the market is complacent. Most investors are still debating “which companies benefit from AI.” Far fewer are asking: “What happens when AI pushes prices down so hard that profit pools shrink, and governments treat the winners as the new tax base?”
Crypto enters the picture, awkwardly but logically
I’m not trying to turn this into a crypto sermon, but the logic is hard to ignore. In a world where governments need revenue and will go after visible pools of capital, assets that are easy to tax become politically convenient targets: public equities, property, ETFs, custodial accounts.
Bitcoin and other crypto assets are different, not because they are untouchable, but because they are more portable and can be held in ways that are harder to control. Of course governments can tax ETFs, on-ramps, corporate treasuries, and realized gains. Of course they can make life difficult.
But the enforcement friction is different. And in a world where the state needs to extract more from capital, the structure of an asset starts to matter more than most investors want to admit.
It’s also not crazy to imagine new forms of taxation aimed at foreigners, withholding taxes, or other measures that treat global capital as a funding source for domestic stability. The world can change faster than our mental models.
The uncomfortable truth: we don’t have a model for this
What unsettles me is that I don’t think anyone has solved this puzzle. We don’t have a good historical template for “automation eliminates most labor income” combined with “abundance-driven deflation” combined with “a handful of mega-corporations dominate production” combined with “governments must fund a population at scale. We can hand-wave it as “we’ll figure it out,” but investors need to price it.
And if this regime is even directionally correct, then today’s stock market could be mispriced in both directions. Markets may underestimate how high the winners can go during the transition, because the next few years of AI-driven leverage could be insanely profitable. But markets may also underestimate how hard the end-state can be on margins, taxes, and therefore long-term valuations.
So yes, we could go much higher first, because markets rarely price second-order effects until they have to. But something has to give eventually.
The questions I’m still working on
How deflationary will it really be? Some things may remain scarce: land, possbily energy, certain raw materials, regulation-protected services. If those dominate the cost of living, deflation is weaker and UBI requirements rise.
What level of UBI is actually needed in an abundance economy? If basic goods get dramatically cheaper, maybe $500 a month buys a decent life. If housing and healthcare remain captured, it doesn’t.
How high do taxes go, and on what exactly? Corporate profits, wealth, land, consumption, financial transactions, data, robots, compute? The choice changes everything.
Do capital markets accept a new regime, or does the risk premium change? If equity becomes an increasingly political claim on profits, investors will demand a different return, or they’ll look for different assets.
Do we get fragmentation or coordination across countries? If one place taxes aggressively, capital moves, unless the winners are immovable or governments coordinate.
Conclusion
I still believe the next decade will be dominated by AI and robotics, and I still believe we’re moving toward abundance. But abundance is not automatically an investor utopia. Abundance can be deflationary, deflation can compress profits, compressed profits change valuations, and a society with mass unemployment changes the tax regime in ways that most investors are not thinking about at all.
The weird part is that I can hold two opposite views at once: For my investments I can be bullish on the transition and uneasy about the destination. And for society I am very worried about the transition (riots, civil wars), while I am bullish on the outcome (abundance).
I don’t like instability, and I don’t like that the future feels much less predictable than it used to. But it is what it is. The only rational response is to think harder, and accept that “normal” may be a temporary phase we’re already leaving behind.