The prevailing explanation, offered by those who traffic in headlines and pronouncements, is this: artificial intelligence, that mechanical phantom, threatens to disrupt the very foundations of these digital empires. A most convenient scapegoat, wouldn’t you agree? To blame a machine for the inherent volatility of human fancy!
One must consider the broader currents. The years following the pandemic saw a deluge of cheap capital, a veritable flood of liquidity, enabling developers to erect these steel and concrete mausoleums at an alarming rate. A glut of space, naturally, dampened occupancy and strangled rental rates. It was as if the market, in a fit of generosity, had provided too much room for everyone’s excess baggage. A most illogical outcome. But the tides, it seems, are beginning to turn. CubeSmart reported a flicker of life in the third quarter – a modest increase in move-in rates, the first such instance in years. And Extra Space Storage, that behemoth of belongings, noted a similar, though equally tentative, resurgence. A promising sign, perhaps, but one must not mistake a swallow for a summer. The market, like a mischievous imp, delights in false dawns.
NextEra, with its Florida Power & Light backbone, has always been…substantial. But to witness it actually grow? Quite the novelty. One had rather assumed Florida was full enough, but the influx of population and, crucially, those data centers…they require a prodigious appetite for electricity. It’s transforming a typically predictable income stream into something approaching a growth stock. One almost feels a pang of sympathy for the accountants.
The problem, as far as one can tell, is the CEO, Tim Go, has taken a “voluntary leave of absence.” Voluntary. That’s… reassuring? It’s like when someone says they’re “taking a break” from their marriage. You just know something is up. Franklin Myers, the chairperson, is stepping in as interim CEO. Which, fine. But it feels… temporary. Like putting a plaster on a broken leg.
However, before we all rush to sell everything and invest in something reliably boring – say, artisanal cheese futures – it’s worth remembering that these companies are, in theory, spending all this money to automate things. To make processes less… process-y. The idea is that AI will contribute to the global economy in ways that are, if not entirely predictable, at least statistically probable. (Though, of course, statistics are just a polite way of saying “educated guesses”.)
Adjust, that purveyor of metrics and analytics, has declared – before the assembled multitudes of the market, naturally – that installations of these applications have increased by ten percent in the past year. And sessions, those fleeting moments of engagement, by seven percent. A triumph, one might say, though whether it signifies true progress or merely a greater number of distractions remains a question for the philosophers.
The share price has gone up 330% in the last year. 330%! That’s… a lot. And the narrative is, of course, that this will continue because of chip shortages and higher prices. It’s all very neat and tidy. But here’s where I get twitchy. These booms never last, do they? It’s a basic economic principle, like gravity or the inevitability of bad dates. The question isn’t if it will end, but when and how much damage will be done when it does. So, let’s dig a little deeper, shall we? Just to soothe my nerves, mostly.
Life insurance, at its heart, is a bet against time. People pay now, for a peace of mind later, a shield for those left behind. The company holds that money, invests it, hopes for a return. It’s a delicate balance, a slow turning of the wheel. This ‘float,’ as they call it, is the lifeblood, but it can run thin. A bull market swells the coffers, a downturn… well, a downturn reveals what’s truly solid beneath.
They published their fourth quarter and full-year 2025 numbers on Tuesday. Revenue was up 21% to $103.6 million. Net income, as calculated by accountants who must eat too, rose 9% to $10.6 million ($0.46 a share). It’s all just numbers, really. Attempts to quantify the unquantifiable.
Before the market even yawned and stretched, this shareholder – a fellow named Starboard Value, who sounds suspiciously like a pirate – dispatched a missive to Riot’s boss, Jason Les, and the chap who chairs the board, Benjamin Yi. A most stern letter, it was, intended to give these gentlemen a jolly good nudge towards… well, towards actually doing the things they said they were going to do.