America’s biggest technology companies are combining Silicon Valley returns with Ruhr Valley balance-sheets. Investors who bought shares in Alphabet, Meta and Microsoft a decade ago are sitting on eight times their money, excluding dividends. Spending on data centres means the firms possess property and equipment (accounting-speak for hard assets) worth more than 60% of their equity book value, up from 20% over the same period. Add the capital expenditure of these firms during the past year to that of Amazon and Oracle, two more tech giants, and the sum is greater than the outlay of all America’s listed industrial companies combined. Jason Thomas of Carlyle, an investment firm, estimates that the spending boom was responsible for a third of America’s economic growth during the most recent quarter.
This year companies will spend $400bn on the infrastructure needed to run artificial-intelligence (AI) models. Predictions of the eventual bill are uniformly enormous. Analysts at Morgan Stanley reckon $2.9trn will be spent on data centres and related infrastructure by the end of 2028; consultants at McKinsey put it at $6.7trn by 2030. Like a bad party at a good restaurant, nobody is quite sure who will pick up the tab.
Much of the burden will fall on big tech’s bottom line. Since 2023 Alphabet, Meta and Microsoft have divided $800bn of operating cashflows roughly evenly between capex and shareholder returns. This goldilocks capital allocation, which combines a building boom with a trip to the bank, is unprecedented even among their own ranks. Amazon’s shareholders are paying for huge capex bills but have been starved of returns; Apple investors have benefited from vast share buy-backs but are worried that the company’s lack of investment means it is falling behind on AI.
But capex is growing faster than cashflows. Morgan Stanley’s calculations indicate a $1.5trn “financing gap” between the two over the next three years. It could be bigger if advances in the technology escalate spending further and kill existing cash cows. Conversely, if companies are slower to adopt AI than consumers, big tech will struggle to earn a quick return on its investment; shareholders might then demand a greater portion of their earnings to compensate for this sluggish growth.
More certain than the size of the financing gap is the type of investors looking to fill it. The hot centre of the AI boom is moving from stockmarkets to debt markets. That is surprising since the attitude of the biggest tech firms to debt has been essentially German. They are much less beholden to their bankers than telecoms outfits were at the turn of the century, during the dotcom mania. Fortress balance-sheets are prized. Large bond issuances have been outweighed by even larger piles of cash. (If the “magnificent seven” tech firms pooled their liquid financial assets and formed a bank, it would be America’s tenth-biggest.)
Slowly, this is changing. During the first half of the year investment-grade borrowing by tech firms was 70% higher than in the first six months of 2024. In April Alphabet issued bonds for the first time since 2020. Microsoft has reduced its cash pile but its finance leases—a type of debt mostly related to data centres—nearly tripled since 2023, to $46bn (a further $93bn of such liabilities are not yet on its balance-sheet). Meta is in talks to borrow around $30bn from private-credit lenders including Apollo, Brookfield and Carlyle. The market for debt securities backed by borrowing related to data centres, where liabilities are pooled and sliced up in a way similar to mortgage bonds, has grown from almost nothing in 2018 to around $50bn today.
The rush to borrow is more furious among big tech’s challengers. CoreWeave, an ai cloud firm, has borrowed liberally from private-credit funds and bond investors to buy chips from Nvidia. Fluidstack, another cloud-computing startup, is also borrowing heavily, using its chips as collateral. SoftBank, a Japanese firm, is financing its share of a giant partnership with Openai, the maker of ChatGPT, with debt. “They don’t actually have the money,” wrote Elon Musk when the partnership was announced in January. After raising $5bn of debt earlier this year xai, Mr Musk’s own startup, is reportedly borrowing $12bn to buy chips.
This means the technology revolution is increasingly coming into contact with a financial one. Those at the apex of Silicon Valley are not the only elites in the West who, after spending decades perched in the realm of ideas, have decided that the physical world is where it’s at. Private-equity firms are refashioning themselves as lenders to the real economy. The resulting balance-sheet transformation has been, if anything, more dramatic than the one in Silicon Valley. Data centres produce large amounts of debt. This sits easily on the huge balance-sheets managed by these outfits, which are often funded by life-insurance policies. Like big tech, private markets are increasingly concentrated. Tech firms are raising capital because they think that the gains from AI will be concentrated among a few players. Investors are lending to them because they know the same thing is true on Wall Street.
Railroaded
This symbiotic escalation is, in some ways, an advert for American innovation. The country has both the world’s best AI engineers and its most enthusiastic financial engineers. For some it is also a warning sign. Lenders may find themselves taking technology risk, as well as the default and interest-rate risks to which they are accustomed. The history of previous capital cycles should also make them nervous. Capex booms frequently lead to overbuilding, which leads to bankruptcies when returns fall. Equity investors can weather such a crash. The sorts of leveraged investors, such as banks and life insurers, who hold highly rated debt they believe to be safe, cannot. ■