Wednesday, July 15, 2026

IBM’s $70 Billion Reality Check: A 115-Year-Old Giant Stumbles in the AI Race

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5 Key Takeaways

  • IBM lost $70 billion in market value after its CEO admitted the company 'faltered' in adapting to the AI boom, triggering a 25% stock crash.
  • Corporate clients are abruptly reallocating capital expenditure from traditional software and services to AI infrastructure and cybersecurity, severely impacting IBM's core revenue.
  • IBM's mainframe business, a critical profit engine, faces disruption as clients freeze discretionary IT budgets to prioritize AI hardware purchases.
  • The market sell-off signals a broader industry shift: AI is cannibalizing legacy enterprise software spending rather than being additive, threatening software stocks broadly.
  • IBM is pursuing long-term bets on quantum computing and Red Hat, but these initiatives are not yet large enough to offset weakness in its legacy operations.



A 115-Year-Old Tech Giant Stumbles in the AI Race—and Wall Street Just Issued a $70 Billion Verdict

In a single, brutal trading session, IBM—one of the oldest names in technology—saw nearly $70 billion of its market value evaporate. The catalyst was not a sudden product failure or an accounting scandal, but the stark, unfiltered words of its CEO, Arvind Krishna.

On Tuesday, Krishna told investors that the company had "faltered" and failed to "adapt and move quickly enough" amid the accelerating artificial intelligence boom. By the time markets closed, IBM's stock had cratered by 25%, putting it on course for the largest one-day loss in the company's 115-year history. If the losses hold, IBM's market capitalization would shrink from $272.78 billion to roughly $202 billion.

For a company that built its reputation on selling mainframe computers, enterprise software, and IT consulting to the world's largest corporations and governments, the admission was a watershed moment. It also sent a chilling signal through the entire software sector, dragging down shares of Microsoft, ServiceNow, Salesforce, and Intuit by between 2% and 5%.

So what exactly went wrong? The answer lies at the intersection of a global spending shift, supply-chain bottlenecks, and an AI revolution that is reshaping corporate budgets faster than many anticipated.

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A Spending Seismic Shift No One Saw Coming

Arvind Krishna's candid letter to investors detailed a phenomenon that had been building just beneath the surface: corporate clients were abruptly redirecting their money. In the final weeks of June, he explained, customers began shifting their quarterly capital expenditure away from traditional software and services and toward servers, storage, and memory purchases.

The reason? Companies were scrambling to secure supply-constrained infrastructure ahead of expected price increases—driven largely by the insatiable demand for hardware that powers AI workloads. "While we anticipated some supply-chain related impact in our expectations, we did not anticipate the magnitude of the capex reprioritisation," Krishna wrote.

In plain terms, the world's biggest technology buyers suddenly decided that stockpiling the physical building blocks of AI was more urgent than renewing or expanding their conventional software contracts. IBM, which earns a significant portion of its revenue from long-term software and consulting deals, found itself on the wrong side of that calculus. Several large deals that were expected to close did not, and the shortfall will hit second-quarter earnings hard.

More Than a Hardware Rush: The Cybersecurity Urgency

The shift isn't only about raw computing power. Krishna noted another critical factor siphoning dollars away: cybersecurity. As AI tools become more sophisticated, so do the cyberattacks they enable. The CEO pointed specifically to Anthropic's advanced Mythos model, which has demonstrated the ability to uncover vulnerabilities in existing software and encryption systems.

For corporate boards and government agencies, that kind of capability turns cybersecurity from a line item into an existential priority. Money that might have funded a multi-year software upgrade or consulting engagement is being hurriedly funneled into hardening defenses and buying next-generation security tools. IBM, while it has a cybersecurity practice, is not the first name investors associate with the AI-driven security spending surge.

This dual drain—hardware and security—has exposed a vulnerability in IBM's portfolio that years of strategic repositioning have yet to fully address.

The Mainframe Hangover

To understand why Krishna's words landed with such force, you need to understand the unique role mainframes still play inside IBM. Mainframes are high-powered, ultra-reliable computers that process massive volumes of transactions for banks, airlines, insurance companies, and government agencies. Every time you withdraw cash from an ATM, book a flight, or have a paycheque processed, there is a good chance an IBM mainframe is doing the heavy lifting behind the scenes.

The mainframe business is cyclical. Sales spike when a new model is released, then taper off until the next upgrade cycle. IBM has long used the steady cash flows from this segment to fund its other ambitions. But when clients suddenly freeze discretionary IT budgets to buy AI servers and networking gear, the predictable rhythm of mainframe renewals and related software contracts gets disrupted.

Krishna made it clear that the company expects weaker performance in its mainframe business. That matters enormously because, despite all of IBM's diversification efforts, the mainframe ecosystem remains a huge profit engine. When it stumbles, the entire financial picture changes.

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Analysts Call It an 'Ugly Moment'

The market's reaction was swift and unforgiving, but the language from analysts was even more blunt. Chris Beauchamp, chief market analyst at IG Group, summed up the mood succinctly.

"This is an ugly moment for IBM and software stocks… the big question will be how long the shift to infrastructure and cybersecurity lasts."

— Chris Beauchamp, Chief Market Analyst, IG Group

Beauchamp then voiced what many in the market are thinking: a few more months of this reprioritization might be bearable, but anything longer could trigger a fundamental revaluation of software companies. If the current spending pattern proves durable, the premium investors have assigned to enterprise software names could erode further.

It is worth noting that the 25% single-day plunge was sharper than anything IBM experienced even during the "Black Monday" crash of 1987. For a company that has weathered world wars, multiple technology revolutions, and near-death experiences in the early 1990s, that statistic underscores just how abruptly confidence can evaporate in the modern AI-driven market.

25% Single-Day Stock Plunge — Worse Than Black Monday 1987

Reading the Earnings Tea Leaves

To give investors a sense of the damage ahead of its official earnings release, IBM disclosed preliminary second-quarter numbers. It expects revenue of approximately $17.2 billion—growth of merely 1% and the weakest expansion in over a year. That figure fell well short of analysts' average estimate of $17.86 billion, according to data from LSEG.

The full results are scheduled to be reported on July 22, and they will be scrutinized not just for the headline numbers but for any guidance on when the spending environment might normalize. Investors will also be looking for signs of life in the areas IBM has pointed to as its future.

Quantum Ambitions and the Long Game

In the investor letter, Krishna attempted to balance the grim near-term outlook with a vision of what lies ahead. He highlighted IBM's commitment to quantum computing, including a vow to invest more than $10 billion to build the first large-scale quantum computer by 2029. That ambition aligns with a broader government push to reduce reliance on China in critical technology supply chains, positioning IBM as a national strategic asset in emerging compute paradigms.

Quantum computing, which harnesses the principles of quantum mechanics to solve problems that are practically impossible for classical computers, represents a potentially enormous market. But it is also deeply experimental and years away from delivering commercial returns at scale.

Similarly, IBM has built partnerships in the AI ecosystem, including with OpenAI, and has focused on its high-margin Red Hat business. Red Hat's open-source software allows companies to run applications seamlessly across multiple cloud providers—a valuable capability in a multi-cloud world. Yet these initiatives, however promising, remain in their early stages relative to the size of IBM's legacy operations. They are not yet large enough to materially offset weakness in the core software and infrastructure units.

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What the Market Is Really Pricing In

The scale of the sell-off suggests that investors are not simply reacting to a single quarter's miss. They are questioning IBM's place in a technology landscape being reordered by AI. If the world's biggest enterprises spend the next several years pouring every available dollar into AI-accelerating infrastructure, what happens to the sprawling ecosystem of enterprise software and IT services that IBM dominates?

In some ways, Krishna's honesty punctured a narrative that had long been comforting to legacy technology investors: that the AI revolution would be additive, layering new capabilities on top of existing systems rather than cannibalizing them. The reality now appears more Darwinian. Finite budgets mean hard choices, and when a chief information officer is forced to pick between buying more NVIDIA chips or renewing a broad software suite, the urgency of AI is tilting the scales decisively toward the former.

The knock-on effects seen in Microsoft, ServiceNow, Salesforce, and Intuit shares confirm that this is not just an IBM problem. It is a software industry problem. The sudden reallocation of corporate capital expenditure from software to hardware is a trend with implications far beyond Armonk, New York.

What Happens Next?

The immediate focus will be on IBM's July 22 earnings report. Krishna and his leadership team will need to offer a credible roadmap for navigating a world where the traditional software sales playbook no longer works as reliably as it once did. That may involve accelerating the pivot to AI-native services, deepening the Red Hat integration, or finding new ways to monetize the company's formidable patent portfolio and research capabilities.

Beyond IBM, the development serves as a warning to every technology company that relies on predictable enterprise renewals. The AI boom is not a rising tide lifting all boats simultaneously. It is a riptide, pulling resources toward those who sell the picks and shovels of the AI gold rush—servers, networking gear, and specialized chips—and away from those who sell the software that runs on top of them.

Arvind Krishna's admission may be remembered as the moment a 115-year-old icon looked in the mirror and acknowledged it had lost a step. Whether that moment becomes a turning point for reinvention or a permanent mark of decline depends on how quickly IBM can adapt to a market that suddenly wants something different than what it has been selling. For now, the market has made its judgement clear, and $70 billion of value has vanished because trust, once lost in the technology sector, takes a very long time to rebuild.

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Tuesday, July 14, 2026

The Slave-Making Government and the Crumbs of Justice

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The Slave-Making Government and the Crumbs of Justice

In an atmosphere of fear where a single oral remark from a judge becomes a bolt of lightning, the Bombay High Court’s Justice Madhav Jamdar reminded the state what democracy once meant. The relief that followed tells its own story — about the suffocation we have learned to live with.

The Thunderclap That Started It All

Justice Madhav Jamdar of the Bombay High Court was hearing a routine petition against an externment order when he paused, looked at the state’s lawyer, and said what millions have felt but only the black robes can occasionally speak aloud: “People are being made slaves of the Government of India. They cannot protest, they cannot agitate. The moment they do, cases are registered against them.” [1]

Instantly, the remark travelled through court corridors, entered social media, and became a headline. The sheer astonishment — the disbelief — that a judge had said this tells you more about our condition than the remark itself. We have become so accustomed to a state that treats protest as a crime that a defense of basic liberty sounds like rebellion.

The judge was not announcing a new philosophy. He was merely reading the Constitution. But in today’s India, that is revolutionary. The relief among citizens was palpable, yet tinged with suspicion — as if something so sane could not possibly survive the system.

The Externment Order: Weapon of Choice Against Dissent

The case before Justice Jamdar was that of Sayyed Ahmed Abdul Wahid, the general secretary of the Social Democratic Party of India (SDPI). The Mumbai Police had issued an order exiling him from Mumbai, Navi Mumbai, and Panvel for one year, citing five FIRs registered against him for participating in protests. These protests targeted, among other things, a cement godown in Chembur’s Mukund Nagar that was causing severe air pollution — residents complained of TB, asthma, and lung cancer. After written complaints to the municipality, the railways, and the pollution board yielded nothing, a demonstration was held. An FIR followed. [2]

The externment order was slapped under the Maharashtra Police Act, a colonial-era provision now routinely used to remove inconvenient voices. The petitioner had, as the judge noted, also chanted slogans like “BJP Sarkar Murdabad” and “Amisha Murdabad.” To the state, these were grounds to expel a citizen from his home city.

Justice Jamdar was not amused. He questioned the basis of the entire action: “Is this grounds to throw someone out of a city for a year? If you simply pick out one active citizen and exile them, do you think protest stops? This is done to show the world — and the people — that India still has democracy. But on the ground, citizens are being targeted one by one.”

The Constitutional Shield: Articles 19 and 21

In his order, the judge leaned on the twin pillars of the Constitution — Articles 19 and 21. Citizens have not only the right to express their opinions freely but also the right to live with dignity. An externment order, he said, directly violates the fundamental right to movement and the right to live honourably. He declared that no citizen can be banished from a city merely for opposing government policies. If such coercion is permitted, it corrodes the very soul of democracy. [3]

The order explicitly called out the police’s malafide intent. “The petitioner’s fundamental rights have been adversely affected. The externment order is intemperate, disproportionate, and must be set aside.” Along with quashing the order, the judge warned the police that they are not servants of the Chief Minister or the Prime Minister but public servants, and threatened heavy fines on officers for such conduct.

The Ghosts of Precedents: Gujarat HC and Supreme Court

Justice Jamdar did not create new law; he dusted off principles that the higher judiciary has already established — and that the executive has conveniently ignored. He cited the Gujarat High Court’s judgment in Muhammad Kalim Taufiq Ahmed Siddiqui vs. State of Gujarat, where a similar externment order issued because the petitioner protested against a state policy was struck down. The Gujarat HC held that “a citizen cannot be externed merely because he is protesting against the government.” [4]

He also invoked the Supreme Court’s landmark ruling in Anuradha Bhasin vs. Union of India (2020), which held that Section 144 of the Criminal Procedure Code cannot be used to impose a blanket ban on the expression of democratic rights. The apex court had affirmed that lawful assembly and protest are integral to the democratic process, and restrictions must be reasonable, not whimsical. [5]

The very fact that these judgments had to be repeated in 2025, for a routine externment, exposes the deep rot. The state has learned to ignore the law until a judge loses patience.

The Satire of Power: When Defections Deserve Laughter

In an unscripted aside that captured the tragicomedy of Indian politics, Justice Jamdar wondered aloud about the priorities of the Maharashtra Legislative Assembly. “The other day a ten-year-old child died in an accident,” he observed, “and in the assembly, the discussion was about how the election of the presiding officer takes place, and how a member went from one party to another. What is this?”

Then, in a tone dripping with sarcasm, he turned to the petitioner’s counsel: “Your client should also consider changing his party. After all, horse-trading is going on across Maharashtra. There is a washing machine; you know how it works. Just think about changing sides.” [6]

The term “washing machine” has entered Indian political vocabulary to describe the process by which tainted politicians are “cleaned” through defections, often with the complicity of the ruling dispensation. The judge’s remark was not just humour; it was a sharp indictment of a system that rewards opportunism and punishes dissent. A citizen who shouts “BJP Sarkar Murdabad” faces exile; a politician who switches loyalties for power gets a clean chit.

A Ray from Delhi: The Raghav Chaddha Precedent

The Delhi High Court, too, recently tried to draw a boundary between abuse and political satire. In the case of Raghav Chaddha, Justice Subramonium Prasad opined that politicians must tolerate political satire and criticism of their decisions, alliances, and policies. He distinguished between vulgar, obscene content — which does not enjoy free speech protection — and lampooning, which is intrinsic to a vibrant democracy. [7]

Justice Prasad’s order removed five social media posts that were explicitly offensive, but he refused to treat the general ridicule of Chaddha’s defection as defamation. “Criticism of a political figure’s decisions invites humour and sarcasm, and that cannot be labelled defamatory simply because it hurts feelings.”

When read alongside Justice Jamdar’s observation, a pattern emerges: judges in different high courts are independently pushing back against the state’s effort to choke criticism. It is as if the judiciary is sending out distress signals, hoping that someone somewhere is still listening.

The Illusion of Democratic Space: A Reality Check

Yet despite these moral victories, the ground reality remains chilling. The relief that washed over the petitioner’s face — “I had full faith that one day I would get justice from the High Court” — should not obscure the larger darkness. For every Sayyed Ahmed who gets relief, hundreds remain entangled without remedy.

The protests at Jantar Mantar tell the story. Permission to hold even peaceful demonstrations is now a bureaucratic nightmare. When the “Cockroach Janata Party” — a satirical group — was given permission to protest, the political class was jolted. “How could the government grant permission?” they asked, and soon the conversation shifted to who was behind the protest, undermining its credibility. The very fact that a protest needs suspicions about its handler reveals the stranglehold: a protest without an invisible hand is now unimaginable.

The fear is so pervasive that citizens think twice before joining a dharna. The organizers of the NEET paper leak protests in Delhi know this; participants arrive hesitantly, scanning for plainclothes policemen, acutely aware that an FIR could destroy a career or a family. The younger generation is learning to calculate the cost of shouting slogans — and the answer keeps rising.

Installment-Based Justice: The Ones Who Wait

Talk of judicial courage must be tempered by the agony of those who never receive it in time. The accused in the Bhima Koregaon case — human rights activists, poets, lawyers — spent years behind bars before any bail was granted, on evidence that even the prosecution struggled to substantiate. Umar Khalid, Sharjeel Imam, and countless others continue to languish without trial. [8]

The system is not dead; it delivers justice in instalments, just enough to keep hope on life support. When Justice Jamdar’s remark made headlines, it was celebrated not because it was exceptional justice, but because the judiciary appears to survive only in fragments. One judge says the right thing; another grants bail after three years; a third chides the police. These are crumbs, not a feast.

Conclusion: The Borrowed Breath of Democracy

The Bombay High Court’s oral observation is important precisely because it should not be. In a functioning democracy, a judge stating that citizens are not to be treated as government slaves would not be news. But here, it becomes a landmark — a sign that we have fallen so low that the bare minimum looks like a rebellion.

Justice Jamdar’s words have pierced the silence that has settled in court corridors after years of disappointment. They ring in the ears of those who return from courtrooms, heads bowed, having lost yet another battle against a vindictive state. They remind us that there are still judges who can see the suffocation of the common person and feel the restlessness themselves.

And yet, the same system fails to deliver when it matters most — when entire communities are branded, when bail becomes a punishment, and when the court’s calendar seems to obey a political clock. The judiciary is not dead, but it is breathing on a ventilator. Each good order, like Justice Jamdar’s, is a gasp of air. For now, we survive on those borrowed breaths.

Criticisms

  • The right to peaceful protest is being systematically dismantled through the misuse of externment orders and preventive laws.
  • Citizens exercising fundamental rights under Articles 19 and 21 are being treated as potential criminals and driven out of their homes for shouting political slogans.
  • FIRs are registered selectively to cripple activists financially and psychologically, creating a climate of fear that stifles dissent.
  • The Maharashtra Police Act and similar colonial statutes are being weaponized to suppress opposition, bypassing judicial scrutiny.
  • Political defections and horse-trading are facilitated with impunity, while ordinary protesters are punished for the same act of standing against government policies.
  • The term “washing machine” has become institutionalized as a method of cleansing corruption, with the ruling establishment acting as enabler.
  • Law enforcement agencies are made to serve the political executive rather than the public, undermining the very concept of a neutral police force.
  • Sedition and UAPA are deployed as tools to incarcerate intellectuals, activists, and students without trial, eroding the principle of bail being the rule and jail the exception.
  • The state’s narrative is repeatedly manufactured to portray every protest as a conspiracy, delegitimizing genuine grievance and turning citizens into suspects.
  • Judicial relief, when it comes, is often delayed and fragmentary, forcing the conclusion that the rule of law is delivered in doses approved by political expediency.

Citations

[1] Oral remarks of Justice Madhav Jamdar, Bombay High Court, reported by Live Law, April 2025.
[2] Sayyed Ahmed Abdul Wahid v. State of Maharashtra & Ors., Bombay High Court (WP Stamp No. .../2025). Details of externment order and FIRs from the court’s narration.
[3] Constitution of India, Articles 19 and 21.
[4] Muhammad Kalim Taufiq Ahmed Siddiqui v. State of Gujarat, Gujarat High Court.
[5] Anuradha Bhasin v. Union of India, (2020) 3 SCC 637.
[6] Courtroom exchange as reported, with reference to the “washing machine” metaphor widely used in Indian political commentary.
[7] Raghav Chaddha v. Union of India & Ors., Delhi High Court, W.P.(C) .../2024.
[8] Bhima Koregaon case (NIA Special Court), bail denials and prolonged incarceration widely documented; see People’s Union for Civil Liberties reports.