top of page

By:

Kiran D. Tare

21 August 2024 at 4:53:13 pm

The Great Contrarian

Michael Burry made his reputation by seeing through the housing boom. Now he is turning his scepticism on AI by questioning the stories being told about it. Michael Burry has always had an uncomfortable relationship with consensus. When everyone else sees a boom, he tends to look for the balance sheet underneath it. Recently, when some of the globe’s most powerful executives began telling the public that Artificial Intelligence is something is both enormously valuable and dangerously...

The Great Contrarian

Michael Burry made his reputation by seeing through the housing boom. Now he is turning his scepticism on AI by questioning the stories being told about it. Michael Burry has always had an uncomfortable relationship with consensus. When everyone else sees a boom, he tends to look for the balance sheet underneath it. Recently, when some of the globe’s most powerful executives began telling the public that Artificial Intelligence is something is both enormously valuable and dangerously powerful, Burry’s instinct was to wonder who benefits from the story. Burry’s instinct – of saying directly that the Emperor has no clothes – has made him famous. As the physician-turned-investor immortalised in 2015 film The Big Short, Burry was one of the investors who saw the fragility of America’s housing market before the financial crisis of 2008. While Wall Street was busy packaging subprime mortgages into increasingly elaborate securities, he concluded that the loans were deteriorating, lending standards were weakening and house prices could not keep rising simply because the financial system assumed they would. This month, as some of the world’s most prominent AI executives began warning that the technology could produce catastrophic consequences unless its development was slowed, Burry again took aim at the argument. In a post on his Substack, Cassandra Unchained, he described the warnings from OpenAI’s Sam Altman, Anthropic’s Dario Amodei and Elon Musk as “self-serving” and suggested that the language of impending catastrophe was serving a very different purpose from public safety. Burry pulled no punches when he said that the technology’s boosters and its doomers can sometimes be selling the same product. Burry’s suspicion is that the more extraordinary AI appears, the more extraordinary its valuations become. The same behemoths then warn that AI development must be slowed, gain time and protection from their competitors. Burry’s suspicion is particularly pointed because OpenAI and Anthropic have been moving towards possible public listings at enormous valuations. Inc. reported his argument on September 16, noting his contention that AI safety warnings could provide “cover” for slowing growth and postponing IPO plans. Burry’s provocative formulation is that large language models are not themselves artificial general intelligence, and the industry’s rhetoric about slowing “AI” therefore risks confusing a specific class of technologies with a much broader hypothetical future. The current AI debate has increasingly acquired the language of science fiction when it speaks of machines that might escape human control and autonomous systems that might manipulate infrastructure. While such scenarios deserve examination, Burry asks a more mundane question: what if the companies issuing the warnings have commercial incentives that are being overlooked? It is a question characteristic of the man who became famous by reading the footnotes while everyone else watched the headline. Burry’s scepticism toward AI is not new. Since launching Cassandra Unchained in November 2025, he has made the economics of the AI boom one of its central subjects. His writings have examined what he calls “supply-side gluttony”, the enormous investment in AI infrastructure and the financial assumptions underlying the industry. He has also taken short positions against several beneficiaries of the AI boom, including Nvidia and Palantir, arguing that the market may be pricing in too much future success. In one series, The Heretic’s Guide to AI’s Stars, he has examined the accounts of Nvidia and the major hyperscalers, focusing on capital spending, financing arrangements, customer concentration, depreciation and other details that can disappear beneath the headline numbers. His argument is not simply that AI companies are overvalued. He sees familiar patterns in the rush to build infrastructure before the economic returns have been established. In June, he wrote that he had seen something similar before and compared the current AI capital flows with the exuberance of the late 1990s. Burry’s reputation has not been built on predicting every future development. Rather, it was built on being willing to ask whether the story everyone else was telling was supported by the evidence. The housing crisis taught investors that financial innovation could conceal old-fashioned bad lending. The AI boom may yet teach markets that revolutionary technology can coexist with inflated expectations and extraordinary valuations. Burry’s great talent is refusing to accept the present at face value. In a market increasingly dominated by grand claims about machines that will either save civilization or destroy it, that may be the most contrarian position of all.

Lingua Pragmatica

Mar 19, 2025
3 min read

Updated: Mar 20, 2025

As Southern leaders like M.K. Stalin rage against Hindi, Andhra Pradesh’s Chief Minister Chandrababu Naidu offers a model of pragmatism over parochialism.

Chandrababu Naidu
Andhra Pradesh

Amid the cacophony of opposition in southern states to Hindi, Andhra Pradesh CM N. Chandrababu Naidu has taken a markedly pragmatic stance by remarking recently in the state Assembly that there was no harm in learning other languages. Hindi, Naidu noted, was useful for communication across India, particularly in political and commercial hubs like Delhi. His remarks, though avoiding explicit mention of the NEP, were widely seen as an endorsement of multilingualism and a rebuke to the linguistic chauvinism that has gripped parts of the South.


Few issues in India stir political passions quite like language. It is not merely a means of communication but a marker of identity, a relic of colonial resistance, and a source of political mobilization. In the southern states, where anti-Hindi sentiment has long been entrenched, the National Education Policy (NEP) 2020 and its three-language formula have reignited old tensions. No state embodies this defiance more than Tamil Nadu, where the ruling Dravida Munnetra Kazhagam (DMK) led by M.K. Stalin has framed the policy as an assault on its linguistic autonomy.


Naidu’s words, welcomed by his ally and Deputy Chief Minister Pawan Kalyan, mark a sharp contrast with the DMK’s position. Tamil Nadu’s hostility towards Hindi dates back to the 1930s, when C. Rajagopalachari’s attempt to introduce it in schools met with fierce resistance. The anti-Hindi agitations of the 1960s cemented the DMK’s ideological stance, with its first Chief Minister, C.N. Annadurai, famously warning that Hindi imposition could push Tamil Nadu towards secession.


The question, however, is whether this rigid opposition serves Tamil Nadu’s interests. While Stalin, with an eye to the upcoming Tamil Nadu Assembly polls, has been relentlessly portraying Hindi as a threat to his state’s regional identity, Naidu, a partner of the BJP-led Centre, is framing it as a tool for economic mobility. His argument is not that Hindi should replace Telugu or English but that it offers a competitive advantage.


The economic case for multilingualism is compelling. Indians who speak multiple languages tend to have better job prospects, higher earnings and greater geographic mobility. Andhra Pradesh’s Telugu-speaking diaspora is a case in point. Telugus make up a significant proportion of Indian-origin professionals in the United States, the Gulf, and Southeast Asia as Naidu pointed out, hinting that this success story was built not on linguistic rigidity but on adaptability.


In a country where inter-state migration is rising and where Hindi remains the most widely spoken language, refusing to learn it amounts to self-imposed isolation. Tamil Nadu’s approach, by contrast, risks limiting its youth. The DMK government has refused to implement the three-language policy, keeping schools strictly bilingual with Tamil and English. Its justification that Hindi is not necessary for global success could be true in a narrow sense but ignores the domestic context. If Tamil filmmakers can dub their movies into Hindi to expand their audience, why should Tamil students be denied access to the language that could open more doors for them within India?


The DMK has accused successive central governments, particularly under the Bharatiya Janata Party (BJP), of pushing Hindi at the expense of regional languages. Yet, rejecting Hindi outright is an overcorrection. The reality is that Hindi is an important language in India’s economic and political landscape. Naidu’s position, one of accommodation rather than confrontation, offers a middle ground that other Southern leaders would do well to consider.


Some states already recognize this. Karnataka, despite its own history of linguistic pride, has allowed Hindi to be taught as an optional language. Kerala, whose migrants work in Hindi-speaking regions and the Gulf, has been less hostile to Hindi education. Naidu’s model, balancing regional identity with practical necessity, offers a way forward. Languages should be embraced, not politicized. Southern leaders would do well to listen to him.

Comments


bottom of page