Analysis

When the World Burns: Will the IMF Blink on Pakistan’s Fuel Subsidies Amid the Strait of Hormuz Crisis?

Published

2 months ago

April 28, 2026

The war in the Middle East has rewritten the rules of global energy markets. For Pakistan, the question is whether Washington’s premier lender will rewrite the rules of fiscal discipline—and whether doing so would actually help.

The morning commute in Karachi tells you everything macroeconomic models cannot. On Shahrah-e-Faisal, rickshaw drivers pause to do the math in their heads—fuel costs up, fares contested, margins evaporating. At the city’s truck terminals, hauliers who move food from Sindh’s agricultural belt to urban markets are quietly adding surcharges that will ripple through every vegetable market from Lyari to Gulshan. The war in the Middle East, detonated by the February 28, 2026 joint US-Israeli air campaign against Iran and Iran’s subsequent closure of the Strait of Hormuz, has not remained a distant geopolitical abstraction. It has arrived at the petrol pump, in the grocery bill, and now—most consequentially—inside the negotiating rooms where Pakistan and the International Monetary Fund are working through the terms of the country’s $7 billion Extended Fund Facility.

The question gaining urgency among Islamabad’s policymakers, economists, and the public alike is a deceptively simple one: given an energy shock of unprecedented historical scale, will the IMF relax its strict conditions on fuel subsidies for Pakistan? The honest answer, grounded in both economics and political reality, is: modestly, carefully, and only at the margins. And that is almost certainly the right call—even if it makes for uncomfortable politics in a country where energy prices are already a flashpoint.

An Energy Shock With No Historical Precedent

To understand why Islamabad is under such enormous pressure, one must first grasp the scale of what has happened to global oil markets since late February. The closure of the Strait of Hormuz—through which roughly 27% of the world’s seaborne oil trade and 20% of global LNG volumes transited before the conflict—represents, in the words of the International Energy Agency’s Executive Director, “the greatest threat to global energy security in history.” This is not rhetorical escalation. It is arithmetic.

Crude and oil product flows through the Strait plunged from around 20 million barrels per day before the war to just over 2 million by mid-March. Gulf countries, with storage filling rapidly and exports stranded, have cut total output by more than 14 million barrels per day. Brent crude, which traded at $71.32 per barrel on February 27, 2026, surged more than 55%, briefly touching nearly $120 a barrel at its peak—a pace of appreciation that March 2026 will record as one of the largest single-month oil price jumps in market history. As of late April, with the Strait’s status oscillating between partial reopening and fresh episodes of Iranian interdiction, Brent remains anchored in the $80–$92 range with no durable resolution in sight, and commodity analysts warn that sustained supply chain bottlenecks could keep markets tight regardless of any ceasefire.

For energy-importing developing nations, the IMF itself frames this precisely. In a landmark March 30 blog signed by eight of the Fund’s regional directors—including Western Hemisphere Director Rodrigo Valdés—the authors warn that “all roads lead to higher prices and slower growth,” with energy-importing economies in Asia and Africa facing the effect of a “large, sudden tax on income.” Pakistan, almost entirely dependent on imported crude and LNG, sits squarely in the crosshairs.

Pakistan’s Fiscal Tightrope: The Numbers Behind the Negotiations

Against this backdrop, Pakistan’s position is structurally precarious. The country carries a fiscal deficit projected at approximately 3.2% of GDP for FY26 and FY27, with government revenues expected to remain roughly stable at 15.8% of GDP—a ratio that leaves vanishingly little room for unbudgeted expenditure shocks. Public debt remains elevated. Foreign exchange reserves, though recovering relative to the 2022–23 crisis lows, are still fragile enough that the IMF has explicitly stated that exchange rate flexibility should remain the primary shock absorber against Middle East spillovers—a polite way of saying Islamabad cannot afford to defend the rupee while simultaneously subsidizing petrol.

The political impulse to do exactly that has nonetheless proven irresistible. Prime Minister Shehbaz Sharif’s government has, over recent months, reintroduced fuel subsidies—cutting petrol prices by Rs80 per litre at one point—and held the Petroleum Development Levy (PDL) on diesel at effectively zero, against a budgeted target of Rs80 per litre. Fuel subsidies had risen to Rs125 billion by April 3, 2026, with the government committing to a Rs152 billion cap and scrambling to find fiscal offsets through cuts to the development budget and Rs27 billion in savings from reduced government fuel allowances.

The IMF, for its part, is not unmoved by the humanitarian dimension—but it remains unyielding on the fiscal logic. Mission Chief Iva Petrova stated explicitly at the conclusion of the March third-review discussions that “energy price subsidies should be avoided due to their high fiscal cost and distortionary effects,” and that “sustainability is maintained through timely tariff adjustments that ensure cost recovery.” The staff-level agreement for the third review, reached on March 27 and scheduled for Executive Board approval on May 8 to unlock approximately $1.2 billion in disbursements, was reached against a backdrop of ongoing negotiations over fuel pricing parameters that are expected to shape the upcoming federal budget.

The IMF’s April 2026 Fiscal Monitor, meanwhile, advised Pakistan to gradually phase out fuel subsidies, address contingent liabilities, and expand its tax base to ensure medium-term fiscal sustainability. The Fund warned that sustained fiscal consolidation would require structural reforms, including broadening the tax base and reducing reliance on subsidies, and that Pakistan’s primary surplus—estimated at 2.5% of GDP for FY26—is projected to decline to just 0.1% by FY31 without further reform action. These numbers tell a story of structural fragility that no amount of war-emergency rhetoric can paper over.

The Case Against Broad Subsidies: Why the IMF Is Right to Hold Firm

Fuel subsidies are, from an economist’s perspective, almost perfectly designed instruments for achieving the wrong outcomes. They are regressive—higher-income households, who own more vehicles and consume more fuel per capita, capture a disproportionate share of the benefit. They distort price signals, discouraging conservation and investment in alternatives precisely when the supply shock argues for both. They are fiscally corrosive: Pakistan’s government revenues running at 15.8% of GDP cannot sustainably absorb an open-ended commitment to international oil prices while simultaneously funding the security, education, and health expenditures a 240 million-person nation requires.

There is, moreover, a cautionary precedent from a strikingly similar juncture. When Russia’s 2022 invasion of Ukraine triggered global commodity price surges, a number of emerging markets—from Egypt to Sri Lanka to Pakistan itself—responded with broad-based fuel subsidies. In every case, the fiscal cost proved larger than anticipated, the inflationary feedback loop proved faster than modelled, and the political economy of subsidy removal proved dramatically more costly after a period of entrenchment than it would have been with targeted relief from the outset. Sri Lanka’s fiscal collapse, in particular, demonstrated how subsidy-driven balance-of-payments deterioration can accelerate from a manageable deficit challenge to a full-scale reserve crisis with frightening speed. Pakistan, in 2022, required emergency IMF intervention partly because of this dynamic. Repeating the experiment with a weaker fiscal position and a larger external shock would be economically reckless.

The IMF Fiscal Monitor’s warning that “revenue growth has likely peaked” carries particular weight in this context. If Pakistan’s tax-to-GDP ratio, already among the lowest in South Asia at roughly 10-11%, cannot be meaningfully raised in coming years, then subsidy expenditures crowd out the very social investments—health, education, early childhood development—that translate economic growth into human development. The war emergency does not suspend this structural logic; it intensifies it.

What the IMF Should Do—and What Islamabad Should Ask For

The argument that broad fuel subsidies are counterproductive does not imply that the IMF should ignore the human reality on Karachi’s streets. There is a meaningful distinction, however, between comprehensive price suppression—which primarily benefits the non-poor—and targeted, temporary relief for vulnerable households. And here, encouragingly, both the IMF and Pakistan’s government have identified the right mechanism, even if the sequencing and scale remain contested.

The Benazir Income Support Programme (BISP) is among the better-designed cash transfer systems in South Asia. As part of the new programme conditions, the IMF has already asked Pakistan to increase BISP quarterly payments by 35%—raising stipends from Rs14,500 to Rs19,500 starting January 2027—a meaningful improvement, though one that may not fully offset middle-income household burden. Islamabad should push, firmly and with economic evidence, for a faster and more generous BISP uplift. This is the correct instrument for a war-emergency response: fiscally bounded, targeted to those who actually need relief, and capable of being wound down as the oil shock dissipates without creating the entrenched price distortions that fuel subsidies inevitably generate.

The IMF, for its part, should show flexibility in how fiscal targets are achieved during an external shock of this magnitude, even while holding firm on whether they are achieved. There is genuine economic justification for allowing some degree of automatic stabiliser functioning—accepting a temporary deficit overshoot if revenues fall short due to slower growth, rather than demanding pro-cyclical fiscal tightening in the middle of an energy crisis. The Fund’s own Fiscal Monitor acknowledges that the Middle East conflict “could lead to higher energy prices, tighter financial conditions and increased inflationary pressures” that strain government finances. Acknowledging this in the programme design—with explicit clauses for temporary deviation if oil prices remain above a defined threshold—would be a sophisticated policy response. It would also be consistent with IMF practice during the COVID emergency waivers of 2020–2021.

Concrete policy recommendations for Islamabad:

Accelerate BISP expansion now, rather than after January 2027; propose a dedicated emergency supplementary tranche for the war-shock period, financed by the fiscal savings already generated from development budget rationalisation.
Maintain petroleum levy on petrol at the Rs100/litre level and work with provinces to restore the diesel levy to the Rs55/litre target on a time-bound schedule, insulating revenue flows from the war’s uncertainty.
Negotiate an oil price contingency clause within the EFF framework: if Brent remains above $95 per barrel for more than 60 consecutive days, a pre-agreed, temporary widening of the deficit target—funded by provincial surplus sharing rather than central bank financing—takes effect automatically.
Fast-track tariff rationalisation in the power sector to reduce circular debt accumulation; the energy sector’s fiscal drag is structurally more damaging than the current fuel subsidy debate.
Resist the political pressure to freeze petrol prices indefinitely. Each month of price freeze embeds a larger future adjustment, and experience shows that deferred adjustment is always more painful—economically and politically—than managed, incremental change.

The Geopolitical Dimension: Leverage, Moral Hazard, and the Long Game

There is an argument, sometimes advanced in Islamabad’s policy circles, that Pakistan’s geopolitical weight—its nuclear status, its strategic location, its diplomatic role in US-Iran mediation talks (with US Vice President JD Vance and Steve Witkoff reportedly transiting Islamabad for negotiation rounds)—gives it leverage to extract more lenient IMF terms. This argument deserves neither complete dismissal nor uncritical acceptance.

It is true that the Fund operates in a political economy, and that strategically significant states have historically received more patient treatment than smaller, less geopolitically consequential debtors. It is equally true, however, that moral hazard is a serious constraint on IMF flexibility. If Pakistan secures significant subsidy-related waivers on the basis of war-emergency argumentation, it establishes a precedent—for itself in future programme negotiations, and for other emerging markets observing the dynamic—that external shocks are sufficient to suspend fiscal conditionality. The long-run cost of that precedent almost certainly exceeds the short-run benefit of a relaxed petroleum levy target.

The IMF’s own research—including the March 30 blog by Rodrigo Valdés and colleagues—is explicit that the war shock is asymmetric: it hurts energy importers more than exporters, and poorer countries more than richer ones. But the Fund’s recommended response to this asymmetry is not price suppression—it is enhanced social protection, exchange rate flexibility, and where available, additional concessional financing. Pakistan has access to the Resilience and Sustainability Facility, which is precisely designed for climate and external shock resilience. Islamabad should explore whether the RSF’s parameters can be stretched to address a conflict-driven energy emergency, a creative use of existing instruments that might yield more than a pitched battle over petroleum levy targets.

The Forward Path: Resilience Requires Reform, Not Relief

The immediate crisis will pass—eventually. Commodity analysts already note that any durable reopening of the Strait of Hormuz would likely trigger an immediate $10–$20 per barrel drop in crude prices, with Brent likely settling in the $80–$90 range even with lingering supply chain disruption. Pakistan’s current account pressures should ease materially when that happens. The question that will define Pakistan’s medium-term economic trajectory, however, is what structural architecture remains in place when the storm breaks.

The IMF’s next-programme thinking—already forming as the current EFF winds down—targets a 2% primary surplus, broader taxation of agriculture, exporters, IT, real estate and retail, and the definitive phase-out of fuel subsidies. These are not punitive demands. They are the minimum structural conditions for a country with Pakistan’s demographic profile and development aspirations to maintain any semblance of fiscal sovereignty. A government that can shelter its poorest citizens through well-targeted transfers, collect taxes from all productive sectors of its economy, and price energy at cost-reflective levels is a government that does not need to go cap-in-hand to Washington every two years. That is, ultimately, what genuine economic independence looks like.

The war in the Middle East is a tragedy measured in lives, livelihoods, and the slow-motion unravelling of a regional order that—whatever its imperfections—sustained the energy infrastructure on which billions of people depend. For Pakistan, it is also a test: of the political maturity to distinguish between legitimate emergency relief and structural dependence; of the administrative capacity to deliver targeted cash transfers faster than political pressure demands across-the-board price freezes; and of the diplomatic skill to negotiate flexibility within a programme framework without triggering a breakdown that would cost far more than the subsidy revenue being contested.

The rickshaw driver on Shahrah-e-Faisal deserves protection from an energy price shock he had no hand in causing. He deserves it through a direct transfer to his pocket—not through a subsidy that flows, at perhaps five times the fiscal cost, to the executive at Clifton who fills up his Fortuner. Getting that distinction right, under pressure, in the middle of a war, is the task before Pakistan’s policymakers and their IMF interlocutors alike. It will not be easy. But it is the only path that ends somewhere better than another crisis.

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Analysis

Strait of Hormuz 2026: Why Markets Still Don’t Trust It’s Open

Published

11 hours ago

July 11, 2026

Abdul Rahman

If you’ve followed headlines about the Strait of Hormuz over the past several months, you’d be forgiven for losing track of whether it’s actually open. That confusion isn’t a media failure — it genuinely has opened, closed, and reopened multiple times since the conflict began, and the pattern itself is the real story markets need to understand, far more than any single day’s price move.

A Timeline That Explains the Market’s Persistent Skepticism

The crisis began February 28, 2026, when US and Israeli military operations against Iran triggered Iranian retaliation, including drone, ballistic missile, and small-boat attacks on vessels attempting to transit the Strait (Brookings). By March 4, Iranian forces formally declared the Strait “closed.” Insurance for transiting vessels became unavailable or prohibitively expensive, and seafarers largely refused the journey — meaning the Strait was effectively shut even without a formal blockade in the technical sense (Brookings).

What followed was a genuinely chaotic sequence that explains why traders remain reluctant to fully price in a resolution even now. On April 9, there was no sign an earlier agreement to lift the blockade was actually being implemented — ships were once again prevented from passing. Abu Dhabi National Oil Company’s CEO confirmed the Strait remained closed despite an announced ceasefire, noting 230 loaded oil tankers were waiting inside the Gulf (Wikipedia — 2026 Strait of Hormuz crisis). On April 17, Iran’s foreign minister announced the Strait was open to all shipping — oil prices dropped 11% immediately following the announcement. The very next day, April 18, Iran closed it again, citing the US refusal to lift its own naval blockade in response.

Even the June 17 memorandum of understanding between Trump and Iranian President Masoud Pezeshkian to formally end the war and the blockades didn’t hold cleanly: on June 20, Iran said it had closed the Strait again, citing continued Israeli strikes in southern Lebanon as a violation of the broader ceasefire agreement — a claim the US military denied (Wikipedia). By June 27, the US Navy’s Joint Maritime Information Center announced a widened shipping route through the Strait near Oman, an action explicitly framed as challenging Iran’s control over the waterway rather than a clean bilateral resolution.

Why This Chokepoint Matters More Than Any Other Piece of Global Infrastructure

Approximately 20 million barrels of oil per day move through the Strait of Hormuz — roughly 20% of global seaborne oil trade and about 27% of the world’s maritime crude oil and petroleum product trade combined (Congressional Research Service). At its narrowest point, the Strait is just 33-34 kilometers wide, split into two unidirectional two-mile-wide shipping lanes separated by a two-mile buffer zone sitting entirely within Iranian and Omani territorial waters (Congressional Research Service).

Critically, no rerouting option exists that can replace this volume at comparable cost. An extended full closure would remove 17-21 million barrels from daily global supply against total world consumption of roughly 100 million barrels per day — a supply shock with no readily available substitute (Ziro Market).

The Damage Already Done, Even With Partial Reopening

The International Energy Agency characterized the disruption as the largest supply disruption in the history of the global oil market (Wikipedia — Economic impact of the 2026 Iran war). At peak conflict intensity in February-March 2026, Brent crude surged well above $120 per barrel. As ceasefire talks progressed through May and June, prices retreated significantly — falling to around $95-100 per barrel by early June, and briefly dipping to $78.24 per barrel by mid-June, the lowest level since March 3, before the framework agreement was formally signed (Al Jazeera).

But the ripple effects extend well beyond crude oil pricing. The Strait closure disrupted roughly 45% of global sulfur supply — critical for fertilizer production, copper industry metal leaching, and sulfuric acid manufacturing — and constrained helium supply, a commodity essential to semiconductor manufacturing (Wikipedia — Economic impact). Shipping companies including Maersk, CMA CGM, and Hapag-Lloyd suspended transits through the Strait and related routes like the Red Sea entirely, forcing rerouting around the Cape of Good Hope that added two to three weeks to journey times and increased per-shipment costs by 30-50% (Ziro Market).

Europe’s Quieter But Deeper Crisis

While oil price headlines dominated coverage, Europe faced an arguably more severe parallel crisis through the suspension of Qatari liquefied natural gas exports combined with the Strait closure — hitting at the worst possible moment, with European gas storage sitting at just 30% capacity following a harsh 2025-2026 winter. Dutch TTF gas benchmarks nearly doubled to over €60/MWh by mid-March (Wikipedia — Economic impact).

The European Central Bank responded by postponing planned interest rate reductions on March 19, simultaneously raising its 2026 inflation forecast and cutting GDP growth projections, with UK inflation specifically projected to breach 5% during 2026. Chemical and steel manufacturers across the UK and EU imposed surcharges of up to 30% to offset surging electricity costs, and the ECB explicitly warned that a prolonged conflict risked pushing major energy-dependent economies, including Germany and Italy, into technical recession by year-end.

Why OPEC+ Couldn’t Simply Fill the Gap

A natural question is why Saudi Arabia and the UAE — the two largest Gulf Cooperation Council producers with meaningful spare capacity — didn’t simply increase output to compensate. The answer is logistical rather than a lack of willingness: the Strait closure itself limited their ability to actually export any increased production volumes, even when pumping more oil, because the export bottleneck was the same chokepoint causing the broader crisis (Ziro Market). Total OPEC country production fell more than 30% since the start of the war, and the region’s spare capacity — the traditional shock absorber for global oil markets — proved largely irrelevant when the actual export route itself was under attack (Brookings).

US shale producers, meanwhile, responded more slowly to the price signal than historical patterns would predict. Rig counts stayed largely steady through April 2026, though well-completion activity in the Permian Basin did rise roughly 20% over several weeks as previously drilled wells came into production — still below pre-pandemic activity levels overall (Brookings).

The Market Is Still Pricing a Discount for Uncertainty, and Analysts Say That’s Correct

Vandana Hari, founder of Singapore-based Vanda Insights, offered perhaps the most useful framing for understanding current market behavior: crude’s slide following the memorandum of understanding is “entirely sentiment-driven,” with markets front-running the prospective reopening and likely pricing in a best-case scenario for normalized flows — meaning potential hiccups, from logistics to renewed geopolitical tensions, aren’t being adequately factored in (Al Jazeera).

Given the actual track record — multiple announced reopenings followed by renewed closures throughout April and June — that skepticism looks well-founded rather than excessive.

What This Means for Businesses and Investors Going Forward

For companies with Gulf-dependent supply chains: Treat any single reopening announcement as provisional rather than a genuine all-clear, given the pattern of reversals throughout the spring. Maintaining rerouting contingency plans and insurance flexibility remains prudent even after formal ceasefire signings.

For inflation-sensitive investors and central bank watchers: The relationship Ziro Market’s analysis highlights is worth internalizing directly: whether oil settles near $80-85 (supporting rate cuts, lower CPI, stronger oil-importing currencies) or spikes back toward $120 (elevated inflation, delayed rate cuts) functions as a genuine macro regime switch — not a marginal input, but potentially the single largest swing factor for 2026 global monetary policy.

For commodity-exposed sectors beyond energy: The sulfur, fertilizer, and helium supply disruptions are underappreciated second-order effects that specifically hit agriculture and semiconductor manufacturing — sectors not typically associated with Middle East conflict risk but directly exposed through this specific chokepoint.

The Bottom Line

The Strait of Hormuz crisis of 2026 has been less a single supply shock than a recurring pattern of partial resolutions and renewed disruptions, and that pattern itself is the most important thing for markets and businesses to understand going forward. Prices have retreated substantially from their conflict-peak highs, and the June 17 memorandum of understanding represents genuine diplomatic progress. But given that the Strait has been declared “open” and then closed again multiple times within the same several-week windows, treating the current relative calm as a durable resolution — rather than the latest phase in an ongoing negotiation — would be a mistake that both markets and policymakers seem determined not to repeat.

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AI

AI Capex Bubble 2026: The Hidden $662B Debt Nobody Reports

Published

11 hours ago

July 11, 2026

Abdul Rahman

Every earnings season now brings a fresh wave of headlines about hyperscaler AI capital expenditure hitting a new record. The “big four” — Amazon, Microsoft, Alphabet, and Meta — are on track to spend roughly $725 billion combined in 2026, a 77% jump from the $410 billion deployed in 2025 (UnboxFuture). That number gets reported constantly. What almost nobody is reporting with the same prominence is a separate figure that may matter more: roughly $662 billion in data center lease commitments that hyperscalers have already signed but not yet begun — obligations that currently sit entirely off balance sheet.

Why the Off-Balance-Sheet Number Changes the Whole Picture

Under GAAP accounting rules governing when a lease “commences,” these signed-but-not-started commitments don’t appear in the capital expenditure figures analysts and investors typically scrutinize when assessing hyperscaler financial health. According to reporting citing Moody’s early-2026 analysis, this shadow liability is larger than the combined on-balance-sheet debt of the same companies (Anomaly Investments).

That detail matters enormously for one specific argument AI infrastructure bulls have relied on: the claim that this buildout is being conservatively self-funded from operating cash flow rather than risky leverage. Once the full picture of committed-but-unrecognized obligations is accounted for, that defense becomes much harder to sustain.

The Debt Is Already Showing Up, Not Just Theoretical

This isn’t a purely hypothetical concern about future liabilities. Big tech companies have already issued more than $100 billion of bonds in 2026 specifically to help fund AI capital expenditure, and investors have responded by demanding record levels of protection against potential defaults through credit default swaps — essentially insurance policies against bond default (IEEE ComSoc).

Individual company examples illustrate the shift toward leverage: Oracle issued an $18 billion bond specifically tied to its data center expansion; CoreWeave secured a $2.6 billion loan alongside a $1.75 billion bond package; and OpenAI and Oracle reportedly entered into a $100 billion vendor financing arrangement (Anomaly Investments). At Amazon specifically, capital expenditure over the trailing twelve months has reached $151 billion — a figure that now exceeds the company’s entire operating cash flow, pushing free cash flow into negative territory.

The Depreciation Assumption Almost No Coverage Questions

Here’s an angle genuinely underexplored across most financial media: the depreciation schedules hyperscalers use for AI hardware assume a five-to-six-year useful life. But given how rapidly GPU generations are turning over and how intensively AI workloads are pushing hardware utilization, critics argue the real economic life of this equipment is closer to two to three years. That gap between assumed and actual depreciation is estimated to understate true asset depletion by roughly $176 billion between 2026 and 2028 alone — a figure that grows as accelerating token consumption pushes hardware utilization beyond the assumptions built into current depreciation schedules (Anomaly Investments).

Layered on top of that is the energy cost curve: running the current roughly 30-gigawatt installed base of AI infrastructure costs approximately $27 billion annually today, but that figure is projected to climb to between $45 and $90 billion per year as capacity scales toward 2029 — and crucially, these are first charges against revenue, not optional or deferrable costs.

The Revenue Gap: Who’s Actually Paying for All This?

The most commonly cited justification for the capex surge is that the pure-play AI vendors — OpenAI, Anthropic, and others — represent a massive and rapidly growing revenue opportunity. The reality is more nuanced. OpenAI’s roughly $20 billion annualized revenue run rate, while genuinely impressive for a company with barely any consumer products three years ago, represents only about 3% of projected 2026 hyperscaler capex. Anthropic’s roughly $9 billion run rate, despite showing 9x year-over-year growth, occupies a similarly small share. The entire cohort of pure-play AI vendors combined — including Cohere, Mistral, Perplexity, and others — likely accounts for less than $35 billion in projected combined 2026 revenue against a hyperscaler capex figure exceeding $700 billion (Futurum Group).

That gap is the crux of the bubble debate: hyperscalers are betting the infrastructure will ultimately serve enterprise adoption and their own AI services broadly, not just third-party AI vendor revenue — but that bet requires enterprise AI monetization to arrive at a scale that, as of mid-2026, remains largely unproven outside of code generation and basic customer service automation.

The Skeptic’s Case, From Inside Goldman Sachs Itself

The most prominent voice of institutional skepticism doesn’t come from an outside critic — it comes from within Goldman Sachs itself. Jim Covello, the bank’s Head of Global Equity Research, has consistently argued the economics of the generative AI transition are fundamentally flawed, stating in mid-2026 that the industry has moved “further away” from justifying the scale of capital expenditure compared to two years prior (UnboxFuture). Covello has specifically flagged circular capital flows between cloud providers and AI startups — where hyperscalers invest in AI companies that then spend that same capital purchasing compute from those same hyperscalers — as a red flag reminiscent of vendor financing patterns seen in the dot-com era.

The valuation comparison to that era is explicit and increasingly common among strategists: US technology and AI equities carry EV/EBITDA multiples near 25x, close to historical extremes and above the telecom valuations that preceded the 2000 dot-com peak. More specifically, capex is currently expanding roughly 46 percentage points faster than revenue growth — a gap that exceeds the 32-point divergence observed during the 2001 telecom excess cycle (Allianz Research). Separately, Bank of America strategists have pointed out that AI stock concentration has reached levels matching prior bubble peaks, with the “AI Big 10” (Nvidia, Microsoft, Alphabet, Amazon, Meta, Apple, Tesla, Broadcom, Micron, and AMD) now making up 41% of the S&P 500 — comparable to the concentration of tech and telecom stocks during the actual dot-com bubble (Yahoo Finance).

The Bull Case Isn’t Naive Either

It would be inaccurate to frame this purely as informed skeptics versus blind enthusiasm. Goldman Sachs’ own broader research (distinct from Covello’s individual view) models roughly $7.6 trillion in cumulative AI capital expenditure between 2026 and 2031, built on the expectation that token consumption will increase 24-fold by 2030, driven largely by enterprise AI agents becoming embedded in production workflows rather than remaining experimental (Sesame Disk / Goldman commentary). Microsoft has disclosed an $80 billion backlog of Azure orders it currently cannot fulfill due to power constraints — genuine evidence that demand, at least for existing capacity, is outpacing even the current aggressive build-out pace (Futurum Group).

Leverage levels also remain more conservative than headlines suggest in absolute terms: the top five US capex providers reported a combined $385 billion in debt at the end of 2025, with leverage ratios still roughly 20% below the “high spender” cohort from the 2000 dot-com peak, according to Allianz Research analysis — meaning rising debt levels are a trend worth monitoring closely, not yet an acute crisis.

What Happens If the Bubble Skeptics Are Right

Historical infrastructure cycles offer a specific and somewhat counterintuitive lesson: the investors who fund the initial frenzied build-out phase rarely capture the long-term rewards. If the AI capex cycle follows the pattern of the 1998-2001 fiber optic buildout, hyperscalers may eventually be forced to write down the value of data centers and GPUs purchased at today’s prices and utilization assumptions. But that collapse in computing costs, paradoxically, could pave the way for a new generation of leaner, genuinely profitable software companies to build on top of the resulting cheap, overbuilt infrastructure — much as fiber-optic overbuild eventually enabled the 2000s streaming and cloud computing boom, even after the original telecom investors were wiped out.

What This Means for Investors and Businesses

For equity investors, the practical signal to watch isn’t the headline capex number — it’s the widening gap between capex growth and revenue growth, and whether that gap begins narrowing through 2027 as enterprise adoption either accelerates or disappoints. For businesses evaluating AI vendor relationships, the circular-financing pattern flagged by Covello is worth diligence: understanding whether an AI vendor’s revenue depends partly on capital originally supplied by the same hyperscaler providing its compute is a legitimate red flag for assessing that vendor’s underlying financial independence. For fixed-income investors, the rising credit default swap pricing on hyperscaler-linked debt is itself a market signal worth tracking as an early indicator of shifting sentiment, independent of equity price action.

The Bottom Line

The AI infrastructure buildout genuinely is the largest corporate capital expenditure cycle in recorded history, and it’s happening for real, defensible reasons tied to a genuine technology shift. But the debate over whether it constitutes a bubble isn’t really about whether AI technology is useful — it’s about whether the timing of returns can keep pace with public equity markets’ patience, and whether the $662 billion in off-balance-sheet lease commitments, aggressive depreciation assumptions, and circular vendor financing arrangements represent manageable financial engineering or the early architecture of a genuinely serious correction. Both cases have real evidence behind them. What’s clear is that the headline capex figure everyone quotes is no longer the most important number in this story.

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Markets & Finance

Gold Overtakes US Treasuries in Reserves: What It Means

Published

11 hours ago

July 11, 2026

Abdul Rahman

Most gold coverage in 2026 has fixated on the price chart — the spectacular run from roughly $2,633 an ounce at the start of the year to fresh record highs above $5,400 by mid-year (Intellectia). That’s a legitimate story. But it’s not the most important one. The more consequential shift is structural, not seasonal: gold has overtaken US Treasuries as the largest share of global central bank reserves for the first time in three decades (BlackRock).

That’s not a headline about a commodity rally. It’s a headline about the architecture of the global monetary system quietly shifting under everyone’s feet.

The Trigger Most Coverage Undersells

The pivotal moment behind this shift traces back to 2022, when roughly $300 billion of Russian central bank foreign exchange reserves were frozen as part of international sanctions following the invasion of Ukraine (ISA Bullion). For reserve managers around the world — not just in Russia — that event functioned as a wake-up call: dollar-denominated assets held abroad are not unconditionally safe from geopolitical sanctions risk. Gold, by contrast, carries no counterparty risk; nobody can freeze a gold bar sitting in a country’s own vault.

That single realization has reshaped reserve management strategy globally. Central bank gold purchases averaged 225 tonnes per quarter between 2021 and 2025 — roughly double the pace seen from 2016 to 2020 (J.P. Morgan Global Research). BRICS+ nations now hold 17.4% of global gold reserves, up sharply from just 11.2% in 2019 (ISA Bullion).

Who’s Actually Buying, and Why the List Matters

Poland has been the standout accumulator, adding 20.2 tonnes in February 2026 alone, another 11.2 tonnes in March, and 14 tonnes in April — extending a rapid buildup that has added more than 360 tonnes to its reserves since 2023 (BestBrokers). China’s central bank maintained consecutive monthly gold purchases for 19 straight months through May 2026, even though much of this buying goes officially unreported to the IMF — analysts widely believe the People’s Bank of China continues accumulating gold “off the books” (ISA Bullion).

China’s motivation appears explicitly strategic rather than opportunistic. Chinese net gold imports jumped to 317 tonnes in the first quarter of 2026 alone — nearly triple the prior quarter — while the People’s Bank of China’s own reported purchases accelerated from roughly one tonne per month through February to eight tonnes in April (J.P. Morgan Global Research). J.P. Morgan’s own analysts frame this as part of a long-term Chinese project to build gold reserves as a foundation for establishing the renminbi as a credible alternative reserve currency.

A World Gold Council survey found a striking 95% of central banks expect to increase their gold holdings in 2026, up from 81% in 2024 and just 52% in 2021 — a trajectory showing accelerating, not plateauing, institutional conviction (BlackRock).

The Part of the Story Most Coverage Misses: Not Everyone Is Buying

Here’s an angle that gets consistently underplayed: this isn’t a uniform global stampede into gold. Several countries, including Singapore, Jordan, Mexico, and the Solomon Islands, actually reduced their gold reserves in 2025 — Singapore in particular emerged as a notable seller, likely driven by portfolio rebalancing decisions and a desire to realize gains after gold’s historic surge, rather than any lack of confidence in the metal (BestBrokers). Germany, for its part, has reduced its gold holdings every year since at least 2002, though its 2024 sale of just 1.1 tonnes was the smallest annual reduction on record.

This nuance matters for anyone trying to build a genuinely accurate picture: the de-dollarization and gold-accumulation trend is heavily concentrated among specific emerging-market and non-aligned economies — not a universal central bank consensus. Understanding which countries are buying and why is more analytically useful than simply citing an aggregate global purchasing figure.

Where Forecasts Diverge — And Why the Spread Is So Wide

Institutional price forecasts for gold currently show a genuinely unusual spread. J.P. Morgan projects gold reaching $6,000 an ounce by the end of 2026, and potentially $6,300 by the end of 2027 (J.P. Morgan Global Research). Morgan Stanley’s more conservative 2026 forecast sits at $4,400 an ounce (Morgan Stanley), while State Street projects a range of $4,750 to $5,500, and DWS targets $5,400 by mid-2027 (Discovery Alert).

A spread exceeding $1,500 per ounce between the most bullish and most conservative institutional forecasts reflects a genuine, unresolved analytical disagreement — not just differing house styles. The bull case rests on the idea that central bank reserve diversification represents a structural, policy-level shift rather than opportunistic market timing, making it fundamentally different from prior gold cycles driven mainly by retail or momentum investors. The more cautious case notes that gold’s roughly 245% rally from September 2022 to January 2026 is the largest percentage advance in modern gold market history — and historically, rallies of that magnitude have eventually triggered significant, multi-year corrections (Discovery Alert).

The Under-Discussed New Buyer: Stablecoin Issuers

One of the least-covered developments in this entire gold story is the emergence of stablecoin issuers as a genuinely new category of gold demand. As crypto markets have matured, some stablecoin issuers have begun holding gold as part of their reserve backing strategy — a development BlackRock specifically flags as part of the “early stages” of a new demand wave that also includes central banks and the broader AI infrastructure buildout’s effect on institutional portfolio hedging behavior (BlackRock).

What This Means for Different Audiences

For everyday investors: Gold ETPs still make up only about 0.17% of total US private financial assets, remaining well below prior peaks seen in the early 2010s, while private wealth gold allocations globally sit roughly 50% below levels seen a decade ago (BlackRock). That suggests meaningful room for incremental Western retail and institutional demand to grow, even after the current rally, if the structural de-dollarization narrative continues to gain mainstream acceptance.

For businesses managing currency exposure: The scale and persistence of central bank gold buying is one of several signals (alongside Fed communication policy changes and fiscal deficit concerns) suggesting continued structural pressure on the US dollar’s long-term reserve currency dominance — a trend worth factoring into multi-year currency hedging strategies rather than treating as a short-term news cycle.

For portfolio allocators: The unusually wide spread between institutional forecasts is itself useful information — it suggests treating any single gold price target as a scenario input rather than a confident base case, and sizing gold allocations based on its role as a portfolio diversifier and inflation/geopolitical hedge rather than as a directional price bet.

The Bottom Line

The gold price chart is the story most people are watching. The reserve-composition shift is the story that actually matters for the long-term structure of global finance. Gold surpassing US Treasuries as the largest share of central bank reserves for the first time since 1996 is a genuinely historic threshold — one triggered specifically by the 2022 Russian asset freeze and now sustained by a broad, if uneven, cohort of emerging-market central banks pursuing deliberate de-dollarization strategies. Whether the price keeps climbing toward J.P. Morgan’s $6,000 target or cools toward Morgan Stanley’s more conservative range matters less, in the long run, than the structural fact that the world’s reserve managers have permanently changed how they think about gold’s role in the global financial system.