Capital Doesn’t Predict the Future — It Builds It

The Greatest Arbitrage in Modern Markets Is Between the World Our Institutions Can Perceive and the World That Actually Exists

April 2026

There is a structural mispricing at the center of global capital markets, and it is not in any single security or sector. It is a civilizational-scale divergence between what our financial institutions can perceive and the world that actually exists. The science on systemic risk — climate, ecological, social — has been producing increasingly precise numbers for decades. The learning curves on the technologies replacing legacy systems are measurable and accelerating. The economics are already competitive. And yet the institutional apparatus through which capital is allocated remains anchored to 19th and 20th century frameworks that are structurally incapable of processing any of it. I’ve spent eighteen years building an investment practice on the conviction that this divergence is the defining arbitrage of our era. Recently, I encountered the sharpest confirmation of that conviction from a direction I didn’t expect — not from a fellow investor, but from an architect.

Architect and systems thinker Indy Johar recently gave a talk at The Long Now Foundation that I haven’t been able to stop thinking about. Not because it told me something I didn’t know, but because it told me something I’ve known for eighteen years, but from a perspective outside of asset management.

“There is a fundamental arbitrage right now available between what we’re pricing and where value and risk lies,” he said. “The science is giving us the numbers. We just aren’t able to absorb them because we’re locked into paradigms that are actually old-fashioned and unable to price them.”

Johar isn’t a portfolio manager. He’s the co-founder of Dark Matter Labs, working on planetary governance and institutional redesign. He arrived at this conclusion not by analyzing P/E ratios or tracking error but by studying how civilizations maintain the capacity to adapt. And yet here he was, standing in front of a San Francisco audience, making the investment case for the Next EconomyTM more bluntly than most asset managers ever will: “I’m just asking us to be shit hot capitalists right now.”

That convergence of an architect and an investor arriving at the same conclusion from completely different directions is itself evidence of the thesis. When the mispricing is this large, you don’t need to be in finance to see it.

The Institutional Perception Problem

Around the same time of Johar’s talk, Anthony Hobley, deputy chair of climate risk at UK insurance giant Howden Group, published a piece arguing that “the transition will not be financed until it is first priced,” and that we need to stop the “ever more elegant disclosure theatre” and build forward climate price curves that will actually move capital at scale. Nigel Lake, executive chairman and CEO of Pottinger, a global corporate advisory firm based in Sydney, added on LinkedIn that we have the data and the tools to make better decisions; financial engineers just don’t use them, even as structural engineers apply analogous methods every day, which is why bridges rarely collapse while financial structures do so routinely.

To this I added my response that capital isn’t just lacking the right language to change trajectory — it isn’t even given permission to try. The ideas that volatility equals risk, that low tracking error means low risk, and that fiduciary responsibility requires diversification into every sector and industry no matter how destructive — these aren’t just preferences. They’re institutional constraints that physically prevent allocators from processing what the science is telling them.

This deserves direct confrontation, because fiduciary duty is the lock that keeps the door shut. The conventional interpretation — diversify broadly, minimize tracking error, manage to a benchmark — was developed for a world in which systemic risks were exogenous to portfolios. Climate breakdown, resource degradation, and social contract erosion were background conditions, not variables that portfolios themselves were funding. That world no longer exists. In a world where capital allocation directly determines which production functions get built tomorrow, and where many of those production functions are actively degrading the systems on which all asset values depend, the fiduciary calculus inverts. Concentrating capital in companies that expand the economy’s capacity for future-making isn’t a deviation from fiduciary responsibility. It’s the fulfillment of it. Broad diversification into the sources of systemic degradation — which is what benchmark-relative investing functionally accomplishes — is the actual breach. An allocator who understands this but continues to diversify into destruction isn’t managing risk. They’re distributing it across their portfolio and calling it prudence. This is mediocrity dressed up as conventional wisdom — and in a world where the benchmark itself is mispriced, it’s not even mediocrity. It’s a slow-motion participation in the destruction of the asset base. I use the phrase “mediocrity dressed up as conventional wisdom” not to be inflammatory, but to be precise — because that’s literally what benchmark-hugging is. It’s the decision to be average on purpose and then claim that averageness is sophistication.

This is the bottleneck. It isn’t ignorance. It isn’t even denial. It’s architectural. Our risk models, benchmark-relative frameworks, quarterly reporting cycles, and inherited fiduciary interpretations are 19th and 20th century institutional forms attempting to process 21st century systemic risk data. The science produces the numbers. The numbers enter an institutional apparatus designed for a simpler, more linear, more divisible world. The apparatus spits out portfolio allocations that are catastrophically mispriced.

The conflation of volatility with risk is perhaps the deepest structural error embedded in modern portfolio management as currently practiced. Volatility measures price fluctuation around a mean. It tells you how much an asset’s price moves. It tells you nothing about whether the systems sustaining that asset’s value are intact or disintegrating. A portfolio can exhibit low volatility and carry catastrophic risk if it’s broadly diversified across companies that are collectively undermining soil fertility, climate stability, and social cohesion — because the benchmark itself is declining smoothly toward permanent impairment. Conversely, a portfolio can show higher short-term volatility and dramatically lower real risk if it’s concentrated in the companies expanding the economy’s productive capacity, because those companies are positioned on the right side of learning curves and systemic transitions. Low tracking error against a mispriced benchmark is not safety. It’s a guarantee of participating fully in the benchmark’s destruction of its own foundations. For any allocator willing to see it, this distinction is liberating: it means that high active share, in service of investing exclusively in the Next Economy, isn’t a risk to be managed. It is risk management.

Economies are shaped by how and where they invest. Today’s asset allocation is tomorrow’s production function. That’s not a theory, it’s a tautology. And yet the asset management industry continues to direct the majority of capital toward industries that are actively degrading the systems on which all asset values depend. The most probable pathway to climate success, and to genuinely de-risked portfolios, is changing the direction and velocity of capital. Not international diplomacy. Not unenforceable agreements. Not greenwashed funds that hold the same destructive companies as every index. Capital, directed with intention, toward the economy that is actually coming.

What the Numbers Actually Say

The data on systemic risk isn’t ambiguous. It’s just inconvenient for legacy frameworks.

The IMF calculates global fossil fuel subsidies — explicit and implicit — at roughly $7 trillion annually, representing 7% of global GDP. To put that in perspective, global education spending has never been more than 4.6% of GDP, and is currently about 3.6%. We are spending nearly twice as much propping up the industries destabilizing the planet as we spend educating the people who will have to live on it. According to the IMF’s own analysis, eliminating these subsidies would realign us with climate targets, prevent 1.6 million premature deaths annually, and generate $4.4 trillion in government revenue. This isn’t an externality buried in an academic paper. It’s the largest market distortion in history.

Meanwhile, the cascade risks are compounding. Johar illustrated this vividly: fires near Moscow in 2010 led Russia to halt fertilizer exports. Food prices spiked globally. Riots broke out in sixty cities. The Arab Spring followed. A direct line from wildfires to fertilizer export bans to food price spikes to political destabilization — the kind of systemic coupling that institutional portfolio risk models have no framework to evaluate, let alone price.

This isn’t hypothetical. The insurance industry — the sector whose entire business model depends on accurately pricing risk — is already retreating from the implications. A US Treasury Department analysis of more than 243 million home policies concluded that communities routinely affected by severe weather were paying substantially more than those that were not. Since 2021, homeowner premiums have climbed 46%, roughly three times the rate of inflation (Bloomberg).

State Farm and Allstate have exited California’s home insurance market due to wildfire risk. Entire regions are becoming uninsurable. When a property is uninsurable, it cannot be mortgaged. When it cannot be mortgaged, its value collapses. When property values collapse at regional scale, the collateral base of the banking system erodes. Every allocator with real estate exposure, bank equity, or municipal bond holdings is already feeling the early tremors of this chain reaction in their current portfolio. The insurance retreat is not a leading indicator of the thesis. It is the thesis, arriving.

And the coupling is accelerating. Climate volatility doesn’t just threaten end states. As Johar pointed out, the volatility between now and whatever stabilization point we reach is the more immediate and damaging risk. The whiplash effects on prices, supply chains, social contracts, and political stability arrive long before the new equilibrium. If you’re pricing only for the endpoint, you’re missing the thing that will actually destroy value in your portfolio. A study of thirty major food crops found that at 2°C of warming, more than half would see declining potential cropland area. At 3°C, all of them decline. That’s not an end state we’re hoping to avoid; at our current trajectory of 2.8 to 3.1 degrees, it’s the baseline scenario we’re investing into right now. We’re literally creating that dangerous and chaotic reality with our asset allocation decisions.

To make the exposure concrete: total value at risk in London residential property alone is £2.52 trillion. That’s one asset class in one city, and it barely begins to describe the UK’s exposure. The Atlantic Meridional Overturning Circulation — the ‘conveyor belt’ of ocean systems that brings warm water to the North Atlantic and returns cold, dense deep water south — is increasingly at risk of significant weakening. If it does, most of the UK becomes unfarmable as the hydrological cycle that sustains British agriculture deteriorates beyond recovery. The UK government’s own recent reporting documents the catastrophic relationship between ecological breakdown and social contract erosion. And the UK is existentially coupled to the Antarctic: the complete loss of Antarctic ice shelves implies roughly 65 metres of sea level rise, a scenario in which, to borrow Johar’s blunt assessment, there is “no meaningful UK.”

Scale that picture to global infrastructure, agriculture, insurance, sovereign debt, and the conclusion becomes difficult to avoid: we aren’t facing a risk management problem. We’re facing a perceptual failure at civilizational scale.

Wealth Is a Claim on Future-Making Capacity

Johar offered what I think is the most clarifying single sentence I’ve encountered on the relationship between capital and systemic risk: “Wealth is a concentrated claim on the capacity of future making.”

Sit with that for a moment, because it contains a first principle that the asset management industry has never fully reckoned with: tomorrow’s production functions — beneficial or deleterious — are the direct output of today’s asset allocation. Capital allocation isn’t a bet on which future arrives. It’s the instruction set that determines which future gets built. Every dollar allocated to an incumbent fossil fuel producer is literally an instruction to produce more of that tomorrow. Every dollar directed toward a company on an exponential learning curve is an instruction to expand the economy’s option space.

This means that allocating capital to companies building the future isn’t idealistic, it’s the only coherent expression of what wealth is. And allocating it to business models that foreclose future options — that degrade soil, destabilize climate, extract value from systems we all depend on — isn’t just a bad bet on a declining sector. It’s actively manufacturing the systemic risks that will destroy the rest of your portfolio. You’re funding the arsonist and insuring the building at the same time. Or as I tell MBA students: the fix is to invest capital like the future is someplace we’d actually like to live.

This isn’t a moral argument. Johar is explicit about that: “I’m not asking for any inner development work. I don’t think you need it anymore.” The numbers on cascading losses, the science on systemic entanglement, the mathematics of coupled planetary fates — these have collapsed the distance between self-interest and collective interest. Morality was a framework for when we could pretend our fates were divisible. They aren’t. The UK is existentially linked to the Antarctic. Your portfolio is existentially linked to the social contract. The only question is whether your institutional apparatus can perceive that linkage and act on it.

This is also why inequality isn’t a sideshow to the investment thesis, it’s structural to it. Societies collapse when wealth inequality reaches extremes where a very few elites benefit at the expense of the many. Johar makes the same point: “If I’m hungry today, climate change does not matter tomorrow. So if you want to fracture a society’s capacity to perceive the future in a shared social contract, what you have to do is create differential risks.” A society that can’t collectively perceive and respond to systemic risk can’t protect the asset values embedded in that society. Inequality isn’t a moral failing to feel bad about. It’s a direct threat to portfolio continuity.

The mechanism is direct. When inequality reaches extremes, three things happen that show up in portfolio performance. First, consumer demand concentrates and narrows — a shrinking middle class means a shrinking revenue base for most companies, regardless of sector. Second, political instability increases, creating regulatory unpredictability and geopolitical risk that no diversification strategy can hedge. Third, and this is Johar’s most novel contribution, social cohesion erodes to the point where collective risk perception breaks down. A society in which large segments are focused on surviving the next paycheck cannot coordinate a response to systemic threats, which means the threats compound unmanaged. Democracy, as Johar puts it, “is not an overhead on the free market. It’s the fundamental means to manage common fates.” When that capacity degrades, the common fates go unmanaged — and every asset valued on the assumption of a functioning society loses its foundation.

The Arbitrage

One of Johar’s most striking anecdotes involved a conversation with someone of significant wealth who concluded, through pure rational self-interest, that he expected to lose 90% of his wealth over the next thirty years given current trajectories. Not because of bad stock picks, but because his wealth was fundamentally entangled with planetary systems that are destabilizing. Once he saw that entanglement clearly, his entire theory of how to allocate capital changed.

So here’s where we are. The science gives us the data on systemic risk. The data shows cascading, coupled, accelerating threats to the foundations on which all asset values rest. Forward-looking technologies on steep learning curves in energy, computation, biotechnology, autonomous systems, and the synergies between them are already economically competitive and improving exponentially. Solar and wind generation have already begun outpacing global electricity demand growth. Multiple forms of renewables have orders of magnitude more potential energy than the world remotely needs. The companies riding these curves are building the actual infrastructure of the future economy.

And yet: institutional capital remains largely locked into backward-looking risk models, benchmark-relative allocations, and sector-agnostic diversification mandates that treat fossil fuel incumbents and Next Economy™ innovators as interchangeable portfolio components. Total investment worldwide in the transition is, even on the most optimistic figures, roughly one-fifth of what’s needed. The mispricing between where value and risk actually reside and where our institutions believe they reside is, as Johar puts it, “totally out of whack.”

That gap is the arbitrage. It isn’t a narrow trade on a single mispriced security. It’s a structural, civilizational-scale divergence between institutional perception and physical reality. And it will close, either because allocators update their frameworks, or because reality forces the update through asset destruction.

At Green Alpha, we’ve spent eighteen years building an investment practice designed to exploit exactly this divergence. We don’t screen out bad actors from a benchmark. We start from a first principle: that today’s asset allocation is tomorrow’s production function. If that’s true, and it is, definitionally, then the job of an asset manager is to direct capital toward the companies whose innovations expand the economy’s capacity for future-making, and away from those whose business models degrade it. Next Economy Portfolio Theory begins with the highest-level, most impactful risks and works backward to identify the companies delivering the economic productivity gains, zero-fuel-cost energy, waste-to-value supply chains, and broadly shared prosperity that define the pillars of the emerging economy. We carry high active share not as a style preference but as a structural necessity: you cannot process systemic risk inside a benchmark-relative framework because the benchmarks themselves are mispriced.

This isn’t ESG, of which we’ve been critical. ESG has been captured by the very incumbents it was supposed to evaluate. When rating agencies assign superior scores to companies accelerating planetary crisis, the framework has failed. Many investors are already questioning these products’ authenticity, and they’re right to. What we practice is simpler and, I’d argue, more honest: follow the science, follow the learning curves, follow the math on where value is actually being created and destroyed, and allocate accordingly.

And the results bear this out. Green Alpha has been investing exclusively in Next Economy companies since 2008 — nearly two decades of live capital testing this thesis through multiple market cycles, rate environments, and geopolitical shocks. Our track record is competitive with broad market benchmarks, and five of our six strategies are ahead of their benchmark, since inception, on an average annual basis (as of the date of this writing). The conventional objection is that investing exclusively in solutions-oriented companies constrains your universe and therefore your returns. The reality is the opposite. It’s the benchmark-relative allocator whose universe is constrained, not just to benchmark constituents, but worse — constrained to include companies whose business models are in the process of being made obsolete by physics, economics, and learning curves. Mandating exposure to the sources of systemic degradation isn’t diversification. It’s a drag on returns imposed by an inherited framework that mistakes breadth for safety. The thesis isn’t theoretical. It has been tested with real money for eighteen years, and the results are available for any allocator who wants to examine them.

The Institutional Question

Johar closes his talk with a provocation: if San Francisco in 2001 birthed the startup as the defining organizational form for creating value, what is the organizational form for 2026? His answer is that it isn’t a startup. The challenges we face — cooling cities, stabilizing hydrological systems, regenerating soil at continental scale — aren’t single-product problems. They’re multi-agent coordination challenges requiring what he calls “ex-stitutions”: unbounded, learning-oriented organizational forms that can pool risk and orchestrate interventions across thousands of actors.

I think the same question applies to investment vehicles. The traditional fund structure, bounded, benchmark-relative, quarterly-reported, is a 20th century institutional form. It was designed for a world where risks were divisible and diversification across existing sectors was a reasonable proxy for prudence. That world no longer exists. The question for allocators isn’t just what to invest in, but whether the institutional form through which they invest can perceive and respond to the world as it actually is.

Hobley is right that the transition won’t be financed until it’s priced. Lake is right that we have the tools. And Johar is right that the bottleneck is institutional, not informational. The science has done its job. The engineers have done theirs. The learning curves are measurable and the economics are clear.

A note of honesty here. I don’t know how fast the arbitrage closes, or what the transition path looks like in detail. Nobody does. The timing of cascading systemic failures is inherently unpredictable — that’s what makes them cascading. Johar himself builds his entire framework on what he calls partial knowing: the recognition that none of us can hold the full picture, and that doubt is not a weakness but an epistemic foundation. I share that posture. What I’m confident about is the direction, not the timetable. The learning curves are measurable. The physics is settled. The economic competitiveness of Next Economy solutions is empirically demonstrable. What remains uncertain is how long legacy institutional forms can persist in pricing the world as though these dynamics don’t exist. It could be years. It could be quarters. But the gap between institutional perception and physical reality cannot widen indefinitely, and the longer it persists, the more violent the correction (this is basically is just Stein’s Law, coined by economist Herbert Stein: “If something cannot go on forever, it will stop”. Stein’s Law reminds us that the future often requires a different approach than the past). Conviction about trajectory is compatible with humility about timing. In fact, I’d argue it’s the only honest position.

The remaining question is whether capital can reorganize itself fast enough to capture the arbitrage before reality closes it the hard way.

As Johar put it: “Be smart as to the theory of risk and value, allocate and move.” I’d say that’s about right. Every investment philosophy that finances systemic degradation is writing its own obituary. The only approach that isn’t self-terminating is one that invests exclusively in an economy that can work indefinitely.


Performance information is presented for illustrative purposes only. Past performance does not guarantee future results. Performance comparisons are not indicative of any specific investor experience and do not reflect the impact of fees, taxes, or varying market conditions. Any references to strategy history or outcomes are general in nature and should not be interpreted as guarantees of future performance.

This article reflects the author’s perspectives and is provided for informational purposes only. It does not constitute investment advice or a recommendation to buy or sell any security or adopt any investment strategy.

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