Jevons paradox is happening in real time. Companies, especially outside of tech, are realizing that they can now afford to take on software projects that they wouldn’t have been able to tackle before because now AI lets them do so.
We’re going to start to use software for all new things in the economy because it’s incrementally cheaper to produce. Marketing teams at big companies will have engineers helping to automate workflows. Engineers in life sciences and healthcare will automate research. Small businesses will hire engineers for the first to build better digital experiences.
And as long as AI agents still require a human who understands what to prompt, how to review when an agent goes off the rails, how it guide back, how to maintain the system that was built, how to fix the ongoing bugs, and more, we will still have humans managing these agents.
This is why all the advice you get of not going into engineering is wrong. The world is going to increasingly be made up of software, and the people that understand it best will be in a strong economic position. This will happen in other roles as well where output goes up and demand increases.
$4.1 billion to $380 billion in 32 months. That’s a 93x increase in valuation for a company that didn’t exist five years ago.
The revenue trajectory explains why investors tripled the round from $10B to $30B mid-raise. Anthropic went from $0 to $100M to $1B to $14B in run-rate revenue across three consecutive Januaries. 10x growth compounding annually for three straight years. No software company in history has done that.
But the number that should terrify every SaaS CEO on Earth is buried in the fine print: Claude Code is running at $2.5B in annualized revenue less than a year after launch, and 4% of all GitHub commits now come from it. That single product would be a $2.5B standalone company. Anthropic built it as a feature.
The math on the valuation tells you where investors think this is going. $380B on $14B revenue is a 27x multiple. OpenAI trades at roughly the same. But Anthropic is growing faster, has 80% enterprise revenue mix versus OpenAI’s consumer-heavy model, and enterprise customers churn at a fraction of the rate.
79% of OpenAI’s business customers also pay for Anthropic. A second operating system is being installed alongside the first.
The software sector has lost ~$2T in market cap since Claude Code and Cowork started shipping. The market is repricing everyone around Anthropic.
Last one on this topic, and I have been holding this in myself for a while.
For centuries, class divides kept the labor of the poor invisible to the rich. Factory workers toiled behind walls, farmers in distant fields, domestic help in backrooms. The wealthy consumed the fruits of that labor without ever seeing the faces or the fatigue behind it. No direct encounter, no personal guilt.
The gig economy shattered that invisibility, at unprecedented scale.
Suddenly, the poor aren't hidden away. They're at your doorstep: the delivery partner handing over your ₹1000+ biryani, late-night groceries, or quick-commerce essentials. You see them in the rain, heat, traffic, often on borrowed bikes, working 8–10 hours for earnings that give them sustenance. You see their exhaustion, their polite smile masking frustration with life in general.
This is the first time in history at this scale that the working class and consuming class interact face-to-face, transaction after transaction. And that discomfort with our own selves is why we are uncomfortable about the gig economy. We want these people to look our part, so that the guilt we feel while taking orders from them feels less.
We aren't just debating economics. We are confronting guilt. That ₹800 order might equal their entire day's earnings after fuel, bike rent, and app cuts. We tip awkwardly, or avoid eye contact, because the inequality is no longer abstract. It's personal.
Pre-gig era, the rich could enjoy luxury without moral discomfort. Labor was out of sight. Now, every doorbell ring is a reminder of systemic inequality. That's why debates explode. It's not just policy. It's emotional reckoning. Some defend the system (“they choose it”), others demand change (“this isn't progress, its exploitation”).
And here’s the uncomfortable twist: the unsaid ask of clumsy ‘solutions’ isn’t dignity. It is about returning to invisibility.
Ban gig work and you don’t solve inequality. You remove livelihoods. These jobs don’t magically reappear as formal, protected employment the next day. They disappear, or they get pushed back into the informal economy where there are even fewer protections and even less accountability. Over-regulate it until the model breaks, and you achieve the same outcome through paperwork instead of slogans: the work evaporates, prices rise, demand collapses, and the people we claim to protect are the first to lose income.
And then what happens?
The rich get their old comfort back. Convenience returns without faces. Guilt dissolves. We go back to clean abstractions and moral posturing from a distance. The poor don’t become safer, they become invisible again: back in cash economies, back in backrooms, back in shadows where regulation rarely reaches and dignity isn’t even debated.
The gig economy just exposed the reality of inequality to the people who previously had the luxury of not seeing it. The doorbell is not the problem. The question is what we do after opening the door.
Visibility is the price of progress. We can either use this discomfort to build something better (which we keep doing continuously as delivery partners are our backbone), or we can ban and over-regulate our way back into ignorance. One of those choices improves lives. The other simply helps the consuming class feel virtuous in the dark.
I'm proud to share my favorite photo I got yesterday:
A shot from a remote camera as the ship & 33 Raptor engines roared through the frame. The cryogenic propellant condensing the humid Texas air amid the fiery plume is something to behold
See the uncropped photo in the reply
Owning assets will teach you so much about money. Just think about the times when you're up on your portfolio. Automatically puts you in a better mood. But notice how you never had to actually sell the asset for you to feel that way
Nothing tangibly changed in your day to day. You didn't withdraw the gain into your bank account. You didn't spend it on anything that would've improved your physical reality. You're richer on paper but not in real life. Yet you're walking around with more confidence
Notice how you never needed the money itself to embody a better version of yourself. The number on the screen simply gave you artificial permission. Same goes in the opposite direction. Portfolio gets hit and suddenly you're moving smaller in the world. But again your life didn't change. Only the number did
The number will constantly change forever as long as you're in the game. To attach your self perception to such a fickle variable is mental illness. Detach importance. What you see shouldn't dictate how you feel. Up, you're still you. Down, you're still you. You're always you. So simply be the best you all the time. You have the power. You're in control