The AI bubble I hope will pop is the one I am standing inside, holding a book, a consulting practice, and the survival instincts of a cartoon coyote who has just looked down.

The AI bubble argument is stuck on the wrong question. Whether it is a bubble matters far less than what a correction would reveal, which is precisely why so many people are working so hard to prevent one.
First, my interests, declared with the solemnity of a witness who has just noticed the prosecutor holding a printed email.
I have written a book about AI. I take consulting work that exists because of AI. My traffic is up because of AI, including yours, right now, meaning that by opening a post about the AI bubble you have personally inflated the AI bubble by approximately one page view.
Thank you. Please open it on another device. This is a very vulnerable economy.
If the whole thing collapses tomorrow I have a materially worse year and you lose a blogger with opinions about it. Only one of us is exposed here and it is not you, so weigh everything below accordingly, ideally while continuing to scroll and perhaps disabling your ad blocker out of respect for macroeconomics.
Everybody Is Arguing About the Wrong Thing
The question in every thread is identical. Is this a bubble, yes or no.
It is a rotten question, because both answers are true simultaneously and everybody keeps treating that as a paradox rather than as Tuesday.
The internet would prefer two buttons: VISIONARY and BITTER. This is excellent interface design for starting fights and a poor way to understand capital markets.
Britain built its railways during a mania so complete that Parliament held an inquiry, which in Victorian terms is roughly the equivalent of posting that we need to have an honest conversation as a community.
Investors were ruined. Fortunes evaporated. Extremely confident people wrote extremely confident pamphlets, some of which were later used as insulation.
And then the trains turned up and ran for a hundred and fifty years.
Nobody has ever known what to do with that, so mostly we do not bring it up.
A bubble is not a verdict on the technology. It is a mechanism for deciding who pays to find out.
The Thing I Actually Want to Say
I hope it pops.
Not because I think the technology is fake. I use it every day and it has genuinely changed how I work. I hope it pops precisely because I think there is something real in here, and at present there is no earthly way to establish which bits.
While money is free, nothing has to work.
A pilot that produced nothing gets renewed, because canceling it would require an actual named human being to say out loud, in a room, with witnesses, that it produced nothing. And that human being has a mortgage and a review coming up and would frankly rather set fire to their own car.
A tool nobody opens stays in the budget, because the license costs less than the conversation.
A program with no measurable output gets a second year, then a third, then a director, then a logo, then a mug.
By year four, the mug is the most successfully deployed part of the program. It works offline, requires no training, and has achieved daily active use.
And there is always a demo. The demo works. The demo has always worked. The demo has been working flawlessly for two years in a carefully controlled environment, like an extremely expensive zoo animal that cannot safely be released.

Which brings me to the thing I find quietly magnificent about this entire industry. Every AI initiative on earth is a pilot.
Not one of them has ever landed.
The runway is a PowerPoint transition. Air traffic control is asking whether the logo should be teal.

Cheap money is not neutral. Cheap money is an anaesthetic.
A correction is not the enemy of this technology. It is the only quality control it has ever been offered.
I will also note, as gently as I can manage, that the people most insistent this is not a bubble are, with almost supernatural consistency, the people holding the equity. That does not make them wrong. A weather forecast from a person selling umbrellas can be correct. You simply do not throw away the window. Their confidence is not evidence, any more than mine is, and mine is worth even less because I am about to mention my book twice.
The Bubble Is Not in Nvidia
Here is where nearly everybody is staring in entirely the wrong direction.
Every bubble conversation is about chip makers and model labs and valuations, and most of you do not own a share of any of it. You believe you are watching a fire on the news, in your pajamas, with a cup of tea.
You are not watching. You are in it. You are, in fact, standing quite near the middle of it holding a laminated badge.
The real overhang is not only on an exchange. It is sitting inside an unknowable number of internal AI transformation programs in perfectly ordinary companies. The exact count is impossible to establish because half are called Horizon and the other half are confidential. I would like to describe one to you, because you have met it and it may currently employ you.
It is called something with a colon in it. The word before the colon is a noun that means nothing. The word after the colon ends in -ing. Nobody has ever finished that sentence and nobody ever will.
Horizon: Reimagining. Velocity: Accelerating. Synergy: Please Stop Asking What It Does.
I have worked with an organization that had two of these running at once with the same word before the colon. They did not know about each other. They shared a floor. One of them had a mug.

It has a steering committee, which is a group of people who meet every two weeks to confirm that they are still steering. Nobody has located the vehicle.

It has a slide with three pillars on it. Always three. Never two, never four. In twenty years I have never once seen a fourth pillar, and I have quietly come to believe there is a role somewhere, possibly outsourced, whose entire function is removing the fourth pillar before the deck reaches the board. That person is doing more for global corporate stability than the rest of us combined and will never be thanked.

It has a RACI matrix. Four people built the RACI matrix. It took a full working day and there was a disagreement about who was responsible for deciding who was Responsible. It has been opened once since, by accident, by somebody looking for a different file.
RACI stands for Responsible, Accountable, Consulted and Informed. In practice it means everybody leaves the meeting saying, “I thought you had it.”

It has a Teams channel with 340 members and exactly one message, posted at launch, eighteen months ago. Eleven thumbs up. No replies. The message reads “excited to kick this off” and is, in a genuine sense, the only completely honest artifact the program has ever produced.

And it has somewhere between four and forty people whose continued employment depends on nobody sufficiently senior ever asking one specific question out loud in a meeting.
When the correction arrives, it will not be a headline about a chip maker.
It will be a calendar invite with no title.
I want to be careful here, because the cheap version of this joke sneers at people who worked extremely hard, and they did. Nobody in that program is a fraud. They were told to go and do AI. They went and did AI. At no point did anybody specify what done was supposed to look like, which is not their fault and is about to become their problem.
Most of This Is Not an Investment. It Is Insurance.
This took me far too long to see and now I cannot stop seeing it.
An enormous amount of AI budget is not buying a return. It is buying protection.
Nobody wants to be the executive who did nothing. Doing nothing is the single unsurvivable option on the entire menu.
You can spend four million on an initiative that produces a dashboard nobody has opened since the demo, and you will be completely fine, because everybody did that, and there is tremendous safety in a herd, particularly a herd that is all running in one direction toward the same cliff at a comfortable jog.
But do nothing, and at some future offsite a person in a quarter-zip will say the phrase “we were slow to move” while looking at a point roughly eighteen inches to the left of your head, and you will feel your career gently detach and drift upward like a balloon at a fair.
The quarter-zip will be charcoal. It will be zipped exactly halfway. Nobody knows why, but this is how strategy enters a room.
So the spending is entirely rational and it is not an investment. It is a premium, paid against a very specific personal risk, and it delivers precisely what insurance delivers, which is peace of mind and no output of any kind.
This explains the numbers considerably better than any thesis about productivity does. It also explains why the spending is so magnificently unbothered by results. Insurance does not become poor value simply because you failed to crash.
And if anybody does ask about results, there is a sentence for that, and everybody has agreed to accept it. We are still early.
We have been still early for three years now. A child born when we first said it can now ask why the dashboard needs a login. At some point still early stops being a stage and becomes a lifestyle.
My Extremely Scientific Bubble Detector
I have developed a diagnostic instrument for enterprise AI. It requires no GPU, no consultant and no steering committee, so there is almost no chance procurement will approve it.
Ask exactly three questions.
What number moved? Not how many people attended training. Not how many ideas entered the funnel. What useful thing became faster, cheaper, safer or better?
Compared with what? If nobody measured the work before the AI arrived, every improvement number is a horoscope wearing a spreadsheet.
Who would notice if it disappeared tomorrow? Not who would notice the budget disappeared. Not who would miss the standing meeting. Who would miss the product?
Three clear answers means you have a product. Two means you have something promising. One means you have a pilot. Zero means you have a keynote.
If any answer contains the phrase “unlocking value,” subtract one.

Ask Them for the Study
Now the part that will get me argued with. I have considered cutting it. I am not going to.
There is far less credible independent evidence of enterprise AI returns at scale than the confidence surrounding the subject would suggest.
Not none. But wildly, comically less than the sheer tonnage of confident assertion would lead you to expect, and much of what does circulate is vendor-produced, self-reported, or measuring something standing politely near the thing being claimed.
Try this. Next time somebody quotes a number at you, ask where it came from. Not aggressively. Curiously, the way you would ask somebody where they got a nice jacket.
What happens next is one of the great comedies of our age.
You will be sent a link. The link goes to an article. The article cites a report. The report cites a survey. The survey asked four hundred executives to estimate their own productivity gains, which is methodologically equivalent to asking four hundred people to rate their own driving and then publishing the results as national road safety policy.
I once followed one of these chains for eleven minutes and arrived back at the press release I had started from. I sat very still for a moment. Somewhere, a physicist felt a disturbance.
The citation had achieved a closed loop before the product had achieved a user.
There is, I have since discovered, a technical name for this.
There is not. I made that up two sentences ago and you believed me for one of them, which is, give or take a conference, the entire epistemic standard of this sector.
And nobody is lying. That is the genuinely remarkable part. Everybody is quoting somebody, in good faith, in a circle, indefinitely. It is a very well dressed game of telephone with a substantial budget and a lanyard.
An industry this large should not be this difficult to audit.
If somebody sends you a genuinely good study, read it properly and change your mind. I have done that twice this year and on both occasions I was significantly less right than I had been enjoying being.
The Part I Could Not Make Funny
I tried. I sat with this section for a while looking for the joke and there is not one in it, so here it is straight.
A meaningful share of current valuation rests on cost reduction that has not happened yet.
Not new products. Not new markets. The expectation that a great many companies will need fewer people, and that the savings arrive later.
Sit with what that actually is, as a financial instrument.
We have priced in a redundancy that has not been announced, at a company that has not decided, about a person who does not know.
I have written a lot recently about people on the receiving end of that. What I had not properly absorbed until this year is that their situation is not a side effect of the enthusiasm. It is the collateral. The number assumes them.
Which leaves two futures and I dislike both.
The savings arrive, and a great many people discover they were a line in somebody’s model. Or the savings do not arrive, which is your correction, and the same people lose their jobs anyway when the programs are canceled.
I have looked for a clean way out of that and cannot find one. Anybody offering you a comfortable answer here is selling something, and I would ask them where the number came from.
What Would Actually Survive
Right. Constructive section, because I am not arguing that none of this is real. I am arguing the exact opposite, at length, in a post that keeps making jokes about pillars.
If money became expensive tomorrow, some of it would be completely fine.
Anything with a measured before and after survives, because it can defend itself in a meeting where the mood has changed and somebody has arrived with a calculator and a grudge.
Anything that removed a real cost rather than adding a capability survives.
And anything a person would keep paying for out of their own money survives. That test is savage and I recommend applying it to your own work first, privately, somewhere nobody can see your face.
What does not survive is everything whose value has only ever been described rather than counted.
I would rather learn that in a correction than across ten more years of nobody checking. Ten years of nobody checking is not a bull market. It is a slow leak, and when it finally goes it takes the good work out along with everything else.
What I Would Do on Monday
Work out which category your own work is in. Not the program. You, personally. Can you point at a measured change, or only at activity that was warmly received? That is an uncomfortable ten minutes and it is considerably nicer to spend it voluntarily than to have it conducted for you by somebody from finance who has printed things.
Go and get the before number. If you are running anything AI-shaped and cannot say what it cost before you started, you have already lost an argument nobody has scheduled yet. Get it now. Roughly is fine. Late is fine. Guessing is not.
If your only metric is “people trained,” congratulations, you have measured attendance. The school system managed that without a model.
Stop repeating numbers you have not traced. This one is on all of us, very much including me. It is the load-bearing wall of the entire structure and it is made of press releases.
And keep using the tools. Genuinely. None of this is an argument for standing back and looking wise. The people who come out of a correction well are the ones who spent the froth years finding out where the thing actually breaks, not the ones who spent them announcing.
Where This Leaves Me
Let me end honestly rather than cleverly, which is harder and I resent it.
I do not know when it corrects. Anybody who tells you they do is guessing with an excellent face on, and their previous guesses are not available for inspection.
I do know I am inside it. I know my income has a shape that would change. And I know I have written sentences over the last two years that were more confident than the evidence deserved, several of which performed extremely well, which is precisely the mechanism I have spent this entire post complaining about while benefiting from it.
The question underneath all of it, who holds the judgment when everybody in the room is confident and nobody has checked, is the argument running through all thirty essays in my book AI: Nobody’s in There. But we’re still in here. Every essay is free to read in the complete online collection, and there is a paperback on Amazon if you would rather hold something real.
That was the second mention. I did warn you.
So yes. I hope it pops. I am fully aware that hoping for a fire while standing in the building, holding a ticket, wearing a lanyard, is not a coherent position.
It is simply the only honest one I have.
And when it does go, here is what I think actually survives.
Not the program. The Teams channel will still be there, all 340 members, one message, eleven thumbs up, excited to kick this off. Nobody will archive it, because archiving it requires a decision.
The mug survives. The mug always survives. Somewhere in about four years a person will open a kitchen cupboard at home, look at a logo for a thing that was canceled before their child could walk, and think nothing at all.

And somewhere the fourth pillar person is still at their desk, quietly removing, holding the whole edifice together with a discipline none of the rest of us managed.
I did check, incidentally, and I am not on the steering committee. After all of this, that feels like the single greatest achievement of my career.
If the bubble never pops, I was being constructively provocative. If it pops tomorrow, I was early. This is not forecasting. It is content strategy, and for once the return is measurable.
This is not a story about whether the AI bubble is real, it is a story about how much more fun everybody is having arguing about that than checking anything.
Reference: Pinal Dave (https://blog.sqlauthority.com/), AI Bubble, X
First appeared on AI Bubble: I Hope It Pops



