What do we do now?

An optimist’s guide to the end of software.

01Published

November 3, 2026

What do we do now?

The future is unknowable. Regardless, we are incessantly optimistic. We believe in a beautiful future, one of greater abundance and prosperity for all of humankind. We stand behind the optimistic dreamers, the people who share a techno-humanist vision of what comes next and have the resolve to build it.

This is not idle sentiment. Culture shapes technology, and technology shapes culture in return. It has always been this way. Every generation builds the future it first dared to imagine. Recent technological advancements have annealed this bond. Large language models are made from humanity’s written record. Quite literally, they embody the zeitgeist. Our fears become their fears. Our hopes become their hopes. The stories we tell ourselves about tomorrow are becoming the machines that will build it. As we forge our next chapter, believing in what’s next has never mattered more.

This piece is an exploration of that future, and of where great businesses will be built inside it.

Where in history are we?

“History doesn’t repeat itself, but it often rhymes.”

For twenty years, venture’s most reliable playbook was software as a service. Build a product once, sell it to thousands of companies, and collect rent on it every month at incredible gross margins. It was one of the best business models venture ever had, and it shaped an entire generation of investors.

Looking back, the generation found its voice in 2011, around the time Marc Andreessen published his thesis “Why Software Is Eating the World” in the Wall Street Journal. Founders Fund’s manifesto lamented, “We wanted flying cars, instead we got 140 characters” and questioned “What happened to the future?”

Fifteen years later, the irony is hard to miss: the future is here, software is eating itself, and the best minds of a generation are building flying cars.

Andreessen was right, so right that software is now eating itself: language models are reshaping the industry that built them.

And the future Founders Fund asked about is here too. For a while, the smartest people of a generation built accounting software. Now they’re building power plants, robots, therapeutics, and flying cars.

Venture has changed

The prevailing attitude in venture today is that software is dead, overthrown, like Kronos, by its own child.

It’s easy to hear that and brush it off. Sure, software is dead; everyone’s been saying that for over a year. Here’s the thing - working from the inside of the industry, it’s shocking how different venture looks today from even two years ago. People knew these things were happening, but the effects weren’t fully felt yet. When it’s suddenly easier to get funding for a magnet refinery than an Uber competitor, it does leave you scratching your head and looking around asking what just happened?

I’ll tell you what happened. Capital is rotating. Software funds are raising money to deploy into factories, defense, energy and space. Investors are scrambling to up-skill on enormously complex categories such as molecular biology. The best young engineers are choosing materials, pharmaceuticals, and robotics over another business app.

The move from bits to atoms has been building for years, and recent months have been peak mania.

While the change has been fast, we’re not entirely in uncharted territory. Venture was born in atoms. Silicon Valley is named after an element. One of the deals that started the valley, Arthur Rock funding Fairchild Semiconductor in 1957, was a bet on hardware. Bessemer, one of the oldest firms in the business, is named after a way of making steel. When Don Valentine told Jensen Huang “If you lose my money, I’ll kill you”, he was investing in a new type of chip.

Venture is coming home - and futurists should be happy about that.

But we must tread lightly: home may be harder than we remember. SaaS was an easy button, and it’s gone.

What’s actually worth investing in right now?

What software lost

To answer that, it’s worth backing up for a second. Why exactly do investors think SaaS is dead?

The short answer is that coding models “solved” software. An app that used to take a team of 12 engineers a month can effectively be completed by a single developer in a day. Moreover, the task of engineering itself is different. Writing software used to be an ivory-tower discipline for the “gifted programmer”. Now it means popping in a Zyn and, between prompts, wondering if you should’ve studied biology instead.

Expensive code

Cheaper code breaks one of software’s oldest moats. Software was always really expensive to build. Good engineers command high salaries, are hard to recruit, and (deep in the weeds of bugs and code) can only ship so much. You needed a lot of them to build anything good, so for most companies, buying software was the only sane option.

Coding agents are undoing that. Starbucks, which spends about $400 million a year on software, is already exploring replacing software it buys from Microsoft and IBM with tools built in-house. Smaller teams that used to rent generic software like Notion can now vibe-code their own, built around exactly how they work. The question “Why don’t we just build this ourselves?” is getting harder to dismiss.

Of course, building the software is the easy part of replacing it. Years of integrations, compliance requirements, and tribal knowledge won’t disappear overnight, so the incumbents will be fine for a while. New companies aren’t so lucky. They start without those advantages, in a market where every competitor can build quickly, and the window to make something durable is narrowing. The code alone buys less time than it used to.

Ambitious talent

There is a second shift, and in early-stage investing it may matter even more: what ambitious people want to work on.

Writing software isn’t sexy anymore. The smartest people in the world want to work on hard, impactful problems. Having spoken to talented young people, telling Claude what to code just isn’t all that inspiring. Among brilliant young minds, there is a renaissance of interest in biology, materials science, robotics, manufacturing, space, and the frontier of model research.

This should worry anyone investing in early-stage software. Early-stage investing is foremost a people business. The main thing you underwrite is the team. When talent moves, capital has to follow.

Schumpeterian profits

So software is under scrutiny, the best minds are heading back to the frontier, and capital is following them there. That’s good news for the future. But as history reorganizes, two lessons are worth carrying with us.

The first is about what happens when a new technology shows up. People get excited, and then they fund and build everything it makes possible. That’s a good thing. It’s how the world gets better. Most of the value from a new technology ends up with the people who use it: cheaper power, faster travel, longer lives. Economists call this consumer surplus.

It’s also why innovation, on its own, is a terrible business.

Nobel laureate William Nordhaus estimated that from 1948 to 2001, American innovators captured about 2.2% of the value their innovations created. Being first buys you a temporary reward, what Nordhaus called “Schumpeterian profits,” and then competitors copy you and compete it away.

The intelligence race may produce the largest Schumpeterian profits in history, and some of the shortest-lived. Work that used to require expensive human labor can now be done with compute, and right now that spread earns a premium: companies such as AI-powered rollups that replace labor with models are posting remarkable margins. But as the whole economy shifts from labor to compute, the price of intelligence will fall toward the price of compute, and the price of compute toward the price of energy. Without a moat, you don’t have a generational business, even if you have God in a B300.

Directionally correct isn’t good enough

The second lesson is about manias. When a story about the future is true, capital floods in to fund it, and people stop being discerning. Walking around the valley today, people love to talk about being directionally correct. We’re seeing this lack of discernment right now.

We’ve also seen this before. In the 1840s, Britain went all in on railways, the hottest market of its era. At the peak in 1847, railway construction took up nearly 7% of GDP. Between 1845 and 1850, railway shares lost more than half their value, and some of the biggest railways turned out to be paying shareholders with new investors’ money rather than profits.

The track still got built. The lines approved in those few years add up to more than half the length of Britain’s rail network today. The railways changed the world, and many of the families who funded them lost their savings anyway.

A century and a half later, it happened again. In the five years after 1996, telecom companies spent more than $500 billion on fiber and networks, close to a trillion dollars today. Everyone was right that the internet would need bandwidth. Still, by 2001, about 95% of that fiber sat unused, and Global Crossing, once valued at $47 billion, was bankrupt.

That same fiber now carries YouTube, Netflix, and much of the cloud. The investors were right about where things were going. They never asked how much, and how fast?

Once again, history rhymes. The economist Carlota Perez found the same pattern in every technological revolution since the 1770s. A frenzy of capital builds the infrastructure, a crash follows, and the real returns come in the deployment after it.

Here we find the trap of peak mania. The railway investors were directionally correct. They lost anyway. When everyone can see the writing on the wall, being directionally correct isn’t good enough.


Where should we look to invest?

We believe that great investing sits at the intersection of understanding the future technically and the shape of a good business.

Here is our view of where the future is going. Great businesses will be built inside these themes. Topology exists to back them.

Worldviews

Full page

Token consumption goes up

In May 2026, Google said it processes 3.2 quadrillion tokens a month, up from 9.7 trillion two years earlier. That’s more than 300x. The same month, OpenRouter, which routes developers’ requests across hundreds of models, said its weekly volume had grown fivefold in six months, to 25 trillion tokens. We don’t expect either to slow down: every agent, every line of generated code, all valuable knowledge work automation runs on tokens. Long horizon workflows are getting longer, models are getting bigger, thinking depth is getting deeper, video models are coming online, more and more people are using AI. We’re going to need a lot more tokens in the future.

Selected: Token consumption goes up. Explanation below the graph.

Meet us at the edge

We invest in people hellbent on ushering in new ages of progress. If you’re building at the edge, we want to hear from you.

Share this essay