When Burry Speaks, They Listen.

December 3, 2025

Alright, so a guy who once bet his entire career on the collapse of mortgage-backed securities just told the world that Tesla—at $1.43 trillion, trading at 287 times trailing earnings, with $430 per share factored into stock options that will dilute shareholders by 3.6% annually with zero buybacks—is "ridiculously overvalued."

And do you know what happened?

Nothing. The stock shrugged. Kept breathing. Market didn't blink harder than it does on a slow Friday.

But here's the thing about Burry re-entering the arena: he doesn't announce his positions for applause. He announces them because he sees the same structural defect he saw in 2007. Just a different asset class.

The math he laid out on Tesla is almost embarrassing in its simplicity. Elon Musk's $1 trillion compensation package—already approved by shareholders with a vengeance—will dilute existing shareholders by 12% more. On top of a stock that's already diluting at 3.6% per year. On top of valuations that make no numerical sense unless you're betting on Musk personally transcending the laws of physics and manufacturing.

And Burry watched the narrative pivot. Electric vehicles were the story until competition showed up. Then autonomous driving was the story until competition showed up. Now robots are the story. And everyone's nodding along like they haven't seen this three-act play before.

"The Elon cult was all-in on electric cars until competition showed up," Burry wrote, "then all-in on autonomous driving until competition showed up, and now is all-in on robots—until competition shows up."

The blade is clean. But Wall Street doesn't care. Three-quarters of analysts still have buy or hold ratings on Tesla. Wedbush Securities is out there defending the vision. RBC Capital is pitching the humanoid thesis. They're not wrong, necessarily. But they're also not accounting for the fact that when your stock trades at 287x earnings, the bar isn't "could this be valuable in the future." The bar is "will this be so absurdly profitable that it justifies all current pricing, forever, without disruption." That's not a thesis. That's a prayer.

Meanwhile, the world is watching Bitcoin recoup losses from Monday's 6% plunge, climbing back above $92,000 on Tuesday. Crypto ETFs had their second-worst month ever, with $3.5 billion in outflows. A 30% drawdown from the October high of $126,000. Weak hands got shaken out. But the bounce suggests there's still a bid underneath. Someone thinks $92,000 is a floor.

Here's the part that matters for your portfolio: Bitcoin and Tesla are telling the same story, just in different dialects. Both are priced on asymmetric belief. Both assume a future so radically different from today that current valuations only make sense inside that imagined world. And both are being reassessed right now because nobody actually knows if those worlds are coming.

The S&P 500 rose 0.25% Tuesday, the Nasdaq climbed 0.59%, the Dow added 0.39%. Not heroic. But sufficient to suggest that even after Monday's vomit-inducing opening—when Bitcoin collapsed $3.9 billion in leveraged positions were liquidated—there's still oxygen in this market.

Credo Technology hit an all-time high on better-than-expected earnings. That's the AI infrastructure play. Cloudflare (NET) rose 2% after Barclays upgraded it to overweight. Barrick Mining jumped 3% on news of a North American gold IPO. Instacart's parent (CART) fell 2% because Amazon announced 30-minute grocery delivery in Seattle and Philadelphia.

All of it is real. All of it is noise. Because none of it answers the actual question: Are we pricing in a future that won't happen, or a future that's already inevitable?

Burry's short position on Tesla—the formal announcement of it, anyway—is a gamble that the answer is the former. That eventually, when the humanoid robots haven't shown up, when autonomous taxis are still in beta, when the $1 trillion dilution has depressed returns by the arithmetic he's published, the market will wake up. Tesla shares will reprice. Pain will arrive.

But here's where it gets tricky. Burry was right about housing. He was right about the structural fault lines. And he was massively early, watched his fund take losses for years while he waited for the reckoning. By the time his thesis printed, his hedge fund was already winding down. He didn't get to stick around for the glory.

Markets can stay irrational longer than you can stay short. That's not a hypothetical. That's just Burry's autobiography.

So when I read that he's called Tesla "ridiculously overvalued," I don't hear a market call. I hear a man drawing a line in the sand. A man saying: I've seen this pattern before. I'm putting my name on it. Make of that what you will.

Wall Street will keep buying. The narrative will keep shifting. And three quarters of analysts will maintain their buy ratings because the upside case is real enough, and the downside risk somehow always feels like "maybe later, maybe not at all."

But Burry just signaled that he's willing to bet against the machine again. That means something. It might mean nothing for six months. Or until the next recession. Or until robots actually show up and kill the whole argument.

Or it might mean everything.

The market will tell us eventually. For now, just note the date. Note the name. Note that one of the few people who saw the last catastrophe is positioning for this one.

Then sleep on it.