State of the economy

The Reserve Bank of India’s August 2026 bulletin paints a comforting picture of the Indian economy in a challenging global backdrop. As per the RBI, growth indicators, corporate earnings, credit growth and capital flows are all broadly constructive, even as tariffs, West Asia tensions and volatile crude prices keep throwing up fresh irritants from outside.

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​Here are some key points from the Bulletin that I find noteworthy.

Global economy

Growth: Global output, measured by the composite PMI, kept expanding in July and posted its strongest reading since the West Asia conflict began, with both manufacturing and services in expansion. Equity markets globally gained in August, helped by strong earnings from large technology companies, and emerging market equities bounced back from their July lows.

Geopolitics and trade: The ceasefire in West Asia turned out to be short-lived, with hostilities flaring up again in July, and traffic through the Strait of Hormuz stayed well below pre-conflict levels. On top of this, fresh US tariffs added another layer of uncertainty to global trade. That said, the Geopolitical Risk Index has been easing for four straight months now, and market volatility calmed down too, in both emerging and advanced economies.

Inflation: Inflation picked up in a few major economies as energy and commodity prices rose, keeping central banks on guard.

Monetary policy and yields: Central banks stayed divergent in their approach but remained watchful of inflation risks. In the US, the FOMC meeting and renewed geopolitical tension pushed the 10-year treasury yield to an 18-month high by mid-August, even as the dollar index fell sharply after the FOMC decision and kept weakening thereafter. Flows into emerging market equities fell further in July, though bond inflows kept overall emerging market flows positive.

Domestic economy

Despite all this noise from outside, the Indian economy kept showing strength. Domestic demand stayed buoyant – vehicle and tractor sales, petroleum consumption turning positive again after three months of decline, and a broad pickup in industrial output all point the same way. The south-west monsoon, which had a deficit in June, picked up in July, helping kharif sowing catch up closer to last year’s pace.

Growth: Industrial production had its best month in nearly two years, growing 7.3% in June, with manufacturing alone growing 7.8%, on the back of a broad-based pickup across sectors. The manufacturing PMI for July stayed in expansion at 53.5, though momentum eased a touch from earlier months; export orders, meanwhile, actually strengthened to 54.3. On the demand side, rural India led the charge – tractor and two-wheeler sales accelerated – while passenger vehicle sales in cities kept up a strong pace too. Air travel was the one soft spot, falling further as airlines trimmed capacity and fuel costs stayed elevated. Corporate India’s Q1 FY27 results back this up: revenue and profit growth improved for manufacturing and services companies, and for listed banks and financial companies too, helped partly by lower provisioning.

Labour market: The picture here was mixed. On a quarterly basis, the unemployment rate rose to 5.4% in Q1 FY27 from 5% in the previous quarter, with the increase concentrated in rural areas, even as the share of regular salaried jobs improved. But the more recent monthly data for July showed unemployment easing again, led by an improvement in rural areas – so this looks more like month-to-month noise than a clear trend.

Government finances: The Centre’s fiscal deficit was marginally higher in Q1 FY27 than a year earlier, but that came with a healthy 23.7% jump in capital expenditure, so the mix looks reasonable. States, on the other hand, ran a lower combined fiscal deficit over the same period.

Inflation: Retail (CPI) inflation ticked up marginally to 4.45% in July from 4.38% in June, led by food and beverages – meat, eggs and spices in particular ran hot, with several items posting double-digit inflation. Core inflation, however, stayed steady at 3.9%, and even the narrower measure that strips out precious metals rose only modestly, to 2.7% from 2.5%. On the wholesale side, WPI inflation eased slightly to 9.8% from 9.9%, though this looks less alarming than it sounds – it is being driven almost entirely by the fuel and power group, and even that has come off its May peak of nearly 31%. Against this backdrop, the Monetary Policy Committee kept the repo rate unchanged at 5.25% in its August review and retained its neutral stance, choosing to wait for more clarity before moving either way.

External sector: India’s merchandise trade deficit widened to US$ 32.0 billion in July, from US$ 27.9 billion a year ago and US$ 30.4 billion in June, mostly because of a wider gap in electronic goods; the oil deficit stayed unchanged. Both exports and imports, though, grew at a strong clip in July – a four-month high for exports – so the widening deficit isn’t really a sign of weak external demand. On tariffs, the additional 10% US levy that kicked in on July 24 largely spares India’s biggest export lines to the US – smartphones, petroleum products and pharmaceuticals – so India should come off relatively better than competing Asian exporters such as China, Vietnam and Thailand. Capital flows turned more encouraging too. Net FDI improved to US$ 1.3 billion in June from a small outflow in May, and for the whole of Q1 FY27 it came in at US$ 7.8 billion, well above last year’s US$ 4.8 billion. Foreign portfolio investors turned net buyers of Indian equities in July, breaking a four-month streak of selling, though for the year so far they remain modest net sellers overall. A big driver of external strength has been the RBI’s policy push on non-resident deposits – FCNR(B) deposits alone pulled in US$ 65.4 billion between early June and late August, after the central bank eased rules on these deposits and on external commercial borrowings back in June. All this has helped foreign exchange reserves climb to US$ 716.9 billion by mid-August, edging closer to February’s all-time high of US$ 728.5 billion, and comfortably covering India’s external financing needs.

Financial conditions: System liquidity improved through July and August, aided by government spending and central bank measures aimed at pulling in capital. Overnight money market rates softened towards the end of July and into August, and credit growth stayed strong – bank credit was up 19.3% year-on-year as on July 31, well ahead of deposit growth at 15.4%.

My takeaway

The picture that emerges is of an economy that keeps doing its job quietly while the world outside stays noisy. Growth is holding up, inflation is manageable even if food prices need watching, the currency and reserves position is comfortable, and credit is flowing. The risks – tariffs, West Asia, uneven monsoon spread and the usual global rate uncertainty – are all things to track, not reasons to worry just yet. I will be watching how the RBI’s neutral stance evolves once the festive-season data starts coming in. 

The missing philosophy

India has long worn the title of a land of philosophers, and worn it honestly. Where much of Western philosophy busied itself with metaphysics — the nature of being, the structure of reality — Indian philosophy, for the most part, stayed close to the ground. It asked a narrower, more urgent question: how does a human being get free of sorrow? Buddha, Mahavir Swami, Guru Nanak and others who worked out answers to that question have, over time, been elevated by their followers to a status close to divine — the Buddha is counted as an incarnation of Vishnu in several Hindu traditions, and popular devotion to all three has often gone further than the founders themselves ever claimed for their own teaching. Whether or not that elevation was the intent, it tells you how completely these men solved something real: people concluded nothing less than God could have done it.

What strikes me, though, is how long it has been since India produced anyone in that lineage. It has been decades since a philosopher of any real originality emerged. We have reached a point where even people who genuinely understand the old texts are scarce, while people who repackage folklore as philosophy — pulp versions of a deep tradition — get celebrated as saints and scholars. The vessel survives; what it was built to carry has mostly drained out.

The same drift, in science

I see a parallel drift in science and technology globally, and it is worth sitting with even though it is easy to overemphasize. Consumer hardware — the appliances that define daily life — has not seen a genuinely new category since roughly the 1960s. The washing machine, the fridge, the fan, the air conditioner, the telephone, the motor car, the aeroplane: all invented before then. Everything since has been refinement — smaller, faster, more integrated, more connected.

Medicine shows a similar, narrower pattern worth naming carefully. Smallpox, tuberculosis, plague and leprosy did get real answers — a vaccine, antibiotics, multidrug therapy — and those are genuine cures, not something to understate. But look at where research money and attention have gone since, and the balance has visibly tilted toward managing chronic, lifestyle-linked disease — the kind plausibly worsened by the food, air and pace of life that industrial science itself produced — rather than toward the kind of outright cure that ended smallpox. Managing a problem indefinitely is also, conveniently, a much better business model than solving it once.

One reason for this, in my view, is that science has drifted loose from philosophy and is now steered almost entirely by market economics. Profit, not human welfare, decides what gets built next. That is not a criticism of any single company or scientist — it is closer to a structural observation about incentives, and it sets up the point I actually want to make, which is about how we in investing use the word “philosophy” ourselves.

A slide, not a philosophy

Every investment manager’s sales presentation carries a slide titled “Investment Philosophy.” I went through more than fifty of these over the past couple of weeks, and noticed something: the slide is almost never about philosophy. It is a list of boundaries and methods — what the fund will do, what it would not do, what process it follows. Useful information, certainly. But philosophy, properly understood, is not a list of rules. It is a willingness to question the premise underneath the rules.

Two of the most crowded trades in Indian markets today are precision engineering and defence manufacturing. Analysts and fund managers are underwriting multiple decades of uninterrupted growth for both, and pricing companies as if that growth is close to guaranteed. What I have not come across, in any of the research I have read on either theme, is even a footnote asking whether the underlying technology, product, or need could itself fade. It is not an unreasonable question. A decade from now, a meaningful share of conflict could be waged in cyberspace rather than on physical terrain, which would make a slice of conventional hardware less central than the market currently prices it to be. Fibre and composite parts are already displacing metal in engineering applications that used to be metal by default — metal injection moulding is one example — and that substitution has room to run further. I raise this as a live possibility to be underwritten against, not as a forecast; the point is that the possibility is being priced at zero.

What philosophy should actually do

To my mind, an investment philosophy worth the name has to do three uncomfortable things. First, it must question the growth and existence assumptions baked into a valuation — not just accept the multi-decade growth story a management team or a sell-side note hands you, but ask what has to remain true for that story to hold. Second, it has to be honest about the assumptions and limitations of the investor putting up the capital — most of us are not equipped to independently verify a decade-out technology thesis, and a philosophy that pretends otherwise is not being honest. Third, and perhaps most important, it has to hold the fund manager to the commitment actually made to the investor, rather than to the commitment implied by a glossy slide.

None of this is an argument against precision engineering or defence as businesses, and it isn’t a comment on any specific company or fund — plenty of these businesses will keep growing for good reasons. It is an argument for treating “philosophy” as a genuine discipline of doubt rather than a marketing slide, in the same way India once treated it as a genuine discipline for getting free of sorrow. We have let the word survive while quietly hollowing out what it was supposed to do. That, more than any single stock or sector, is the gap worth noticing.

The price tag not to be ignored

Over the past week I sat with a stack of very different headlines side by side - a proposed cash payout to women in Uttar Pradesh, an old World Bank note on how Indian states balance their books, a parliamentary panel’s numbers on school dropouts, and a district-level count of doctors in Bihar and UP. Read separately, they are four unrelated stories. Read together, they are one story – sustainability of growth.

A season of generosity

Uttar Pradesh’s government is reportedly weighing a cash payout of up to Rs 50,000 for women in the state, timed just ahead of the 2027 assembly election. The principal opposition, the Samajwadi Party, has countered with a promise of Rs 40,000. This is not an isolated UP story. Over the past three years, the number of states running large unconditional cash transfer schemes for women has gone from two to twelve, and by my reading of the available data, these twelve states will together spend around Rs 1.68 lakh crore on such schemes in 2025-26 alone - roughly 6% of their combined revenue expenditure. Add farmer and youth-linked transfers, and some estimates for women-focused transfers alone run closer to Rs 2 lakh crore across fourteen states.

None of this makes any single scheme wrong on its own terms. Direct transfers can be an efficient, leakage-resistant way to put money in the hands of households that need it, and I don’t doubt many families are genuinely better off for it. My concern, as an investor rather than as a commentator on any party’s politics, is arithmetic, not intent.

Where the money is going

A quick snapshot of what's on the table this election cycle

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Six of the twelve states running these schemes are already sitting on a revenue deficit in 2025-26. Strip out the cash transfer spending, and several of them - Karnataka and Madhya Pradesh among them - would show a revenue surplus instead. That gap is not academic. A revenue deficit means a state is borrowing to fund its day-to-day running costs, not its future.

The capex we’re quietly deferring

Zoom out to the national picture and the aggregate numbers still look reasonably disciplined - states’ combined gross fiscal deficit is budgeted at about 3.3% of GDP for 2025-26, broadly where it has held for two years, and outstanding state debt has actually eased slightly as a share of GDP. On the surface, fiscal prudence looks intact.

But the composition worries me more than the headline number. Over the past decade, a large share of the adjustment states have made to hit their deficit targets has come from squeezing capital spending - roads, power, water, hospitals, schools - rather than from trimming recurrent, non-development costs or from mobilizing more revenue. Capital investment has repeatedly acted as the shock absorber whenever a state needed to tighten its belt, in richer and poorer states alike. There are genuine signs of recent improvement - the ratio of revenue spending to capital outlay across states has come down from roughly 6.2 in 2015-16 to about 5.0 last year, which is progress. My worry is that this progress is fragile, and a fresh wave of poll-driven transfer commitments is exactly the kind of pressure that reverses it, because cash transfers are far easier to cut from next year’s capex line than from a promise already made to millions of women voters.

The children and the doctors we don’t have

While states debate the next round of transfers, the human capital numbers tell their own story. A parliamentary panel has just flagged that nearly 73% of Indian students drop out before completing higher secondary school. The number of schools shrinks at almost every stage as children get older - from about 9.1 lakh primary schools down to under 91,000 at the higher secondary level - and enrolment falls in step, from 6.18 crore children in primary classes to just 1.64 crore by the time they reach classes 11 and 12.

Forestation targets, a proxy for longer-horizon public investment discipline, have seen only about a fifth of the decade’s goal met.

Healthcare tells a similar story. India ranks 145th out of 194 countries on WHO health parameters, and the shortfall is starkest exactly where the new cash schemes are being rolled out. Against a WHO benchmark of one doctor per 1,000 people, rural India averages one per roughly 11,000; Bihar is close to one per 28,000, and Uttar Pradesh near one per 20,000. By one estimate, India needs another 6 lakh doctors, 20 lakh nurses and 2 lakh dental surgeons just to close the existing gap - a gap Gujarat’s own recent numbers put in sharp relief, with close to 80,000 new cancer cases and over 43,000 deaths from the disease in a single year.

I don’t read any of this as an argument against welfare spending as a category. I read it as evidence that the current mix of state spending is tilted toward transfers that buy loyalty “this election cycle”, at the expense of the schools, hospitals and roads that would have built durable growth over the next one.

Who actually pays for this

The other half of this equation is who is funding it. Personal income tax has now overtaken corporate tax as India’s single largest source of direct tax revenue, with net direct tax collections crossing roughly Rs 24 lakh crore in 2025-26. That burden sits overwhelmingly on the organized, salaried middle class - a narrow base of taxpayers now effectively out-contributing corporate India, while agricultural income of any size remains untaxed and a large informal economy stays largely outside the net. The compliant formal sector - salaried professionals and organized businesses - carries a growing share of the state’s obligations, including the welfare commitments being made on its behalf without much reference to its own capacity to keep paying.

My takeaway for investment strategy

This is not an immediate crisis - state balance sheets remain broadly sustainable and debt ratios are not alarming today. But sustainability is a medium-term question, not a one-year one, and the direction of travel worries me more than the current level. A political economy that finances consumption ahead of capacity, and funds it by leaning harder on a narrow, already-stretched taxpayer base, is not a formula for the kind of broad-based, decade-long growth story that equity markets like to price in.

For portfolio positioning, I continue to prefer businesses and sectors with pricing power and limited dependence on state fiscal transfers to sustain demand - I’d be cautious of consumption plays whose growth story leans heavily on scheme-driven cash rather than organic income growth. I also continue to doubt a case for holding long-duration debt, given that state finances, like the broader macro picture I have written about before, look calmer on the surface than they may prove to be underneath. 

Reimagining India’s energy security

Energy security has been one of the central concerns of Indian policy making for decades, and for good reason. Energy is the lifeblood of economic growth, and our inability to produce enough of it domestically has repeatedly shown up as strain on the country’s fiscal position and trade balance. Every time global oil prices spike, our import bill balloons, our current account deficit widens, and the rupee comes under pressure. This is not an abstract macroeconomic point — it eventually finds its way into fuel prices, inflation, and the fiscal room available to the government for other priorities.

Over the last decade, India has made genuine progress in building a renewable energy ecosystem. But when I look at the numbers, our dependence on imported fossil fuels remains overwhelming, and the high energy intensity of our growth model continues to shape and constrain our foreign policy and geopolitical choices — whether it is our relationship with Gulf oil producers, our purchases of discounted Russian crude, or how we navigate sanctions and shipping routes.

The execution gap

Some of India’s energy problem is structural. But a good part of it is about execution — and the data bears this out.

Crude oil production has been flat to declining for years. Domestic output has fallen from around 29.7 million tonnes in 2021-22 to about 28 million tonnes in 2025-26, even as consumption keeps climbing. As a result, our import dependence for crude has climbed to a record high — touching close to 89% in 2025-26, up from 85.5% five years earlier. India is now the world’s third-largest crude importer, and by some estimates is responsible for a quarter of all global oil demand growth over the last two years.

Natural gas tells a similar story of stagnation, followed by a partial recovery. Domestic gas production had been declining or flat for the better part of a decade before deepwater fields in the Krishna-Godavari basin brought some resurgence — output touched about 35 billion cubic meters in 2023, enough to cover roughly half our demand. But growth from here is expected to be modest, while LNG imports are projected to more than double by 2030, cementing our place among the world’s largest LNG importers.

Hydropower has barely moved the needle. Capacity additions have slowed to a crawl, and hydro’s share of our electricity mix has actually declined over the past decade as other sources — coal, solar, wind — have grown faster. In years of poor monsoon, hydro generation has fallen to multi-year lows, exposing how dependent this “renewable” source still is on rainfall.

Coal is the one fuel where India has genuinely scaled up domestic production — crossing the milestone of one billion tonnes in a single year for the first time, with output up by roughly 70-80% over the past decade. And yet we still import 20-25% of our coal requirement, mainly high-quality coking coal for steel-making and better-grade thermal coal that domestic mines cannot fully substitute. Even our biggest domestic energy success story still carries an import tail we haven’t managed to cut.

And then there is solar — the poster child of India’s renewable transition, and also the clearest illustration of “poor execution” in a different sense. India added a record amount of solar capacity in 2025, pushing installed solar capacity past 130 GW and non-fossil capacity past half of our total installed power capacity — a Paris Agreement milestone reached five years ahead of schedule. On paper this looks like a triumph. In practice, a meaningful share of this new capacity has had to be switched off. Grid operators curtailed roughly 2.3 terawatt-hours of solar generation in 2025 alone because the system simply could not absorb it — Rajasthan, our leading solar state, has seen curtailment cross 50% during peak sunlight hours in some months. The core problem is that we built generation capacity far faster than we built storage and grid flexibility: India’s battery storage capacity, at last count, was a fraction of a single gigawatt-hour — negligible compared to the scale of solar we have added. We built the tap before we built the tank.

Beyond Megawatts: What a holistic framework looks like

This brings me to what I think is the deeper issue: India’s energy conversation is almost entirely about generation. We debate gigawatt targets, auction results, and capacity additions. We rarely ask whether we are using energy well in the first place. A genuinely holistic energy security framework has to go beyond “how much can we generate” and ask “how little do we actually need to generate.”

Megawatts vs Negawatts. A unit of energy saved is worth more than a unit of energy produced, because saved energy avoids not just generation cost but also transmission, transportation and distribution losses along the way. Yet our incentive structures, our headlines and our policy attention overwhelmingly reward the “Megawatt” — new capacity commissioned — and barely acknowledge the “Negawatt” — demand that was never created in the first place. Efficiency doesn’t get a ribbon-cutting ceremony, but it deserves serious policy weight.

Living with nature, not just extracting from it. Our energy strategy treats nature purely as a source to be exploited — sun, wind, water, coal — rather than as a rhythm to live within. Shifting working hours to track daylight, dressing for our own climate rather than inherited colonial dress codes, and designing buildings for local climate rather than imported architectural fashion are not fringe ideas — they are low-cost, high-impact ways to cut energy demand at the source. Right now, most of this sits in the “nice to have” bucket rather than being part of how we plan cities and workplaces.

Reimagining industrial townships. Much of our energy demand — and our transport-related energy waste — comes from workers commuting long distances between where they live and where they work. Integrated, energy-efficient industrial townships, designed so the workforce doesn’t need to travel far, would cut transport energy use meaningfully while also improving quality of life. This needs to be a deliberate part of industrial policy, not an incidental outcome of land availability.

The water-energy nexus. Water and energy are tightly linked in India, more than we usually admit. Pumping groundwater, moving water through canals, and growing water-intensive crops in water-stressed regions all consume large amounts of energy. Rainwater harvesting, smarter crop choices suited to local water availability, and better irrigation infrastructure would reduce the energy footprint of our water systems — an angle that rarely features in energy security discussions, but should.

Public transport as an energy strategy, not just an urban amenity. Every private vehicle trip that could have been a bus or metro trip is, whether we frame it that way or not, an energy security decision. Improving last-mile connectivity, raising the comfort and reliability of public transport, and providing real incentives to use it are among the highest-leverage ways to cut transport energy demand — one of the fastest-growing components of our energy consumption.

Why this matters

None of this is to dismiss the real progress India has made — the coal production milestone, the solar capacity build-out, and the narrowing, if still incomplete, of overall primary energy import dependence, which has fallen from about 47% to 42% between FY17 and FY25. But the numbers also make clear that generation-side progress alone will not get us to energy security. Our oil and gas production is structurally constrained. Our hydro potential remains underexploited. Promotion of pumped storage is a step in right direction. And even our solar success is currently being partly wasted for want of storage and grid flexibility.

A holistic energy security framework has to treat demand reduction, climate-appropriate living, and efficient urban and industrial design as being just as central to energy security as the next gigawatt of capacity. Until Negawatts get the same policy attention as Megawatts, India’s energy security will remain a story of running hard just to stay in place.

 

The next round of QE might break something

Last week, I found myself doing the most boring kind of research an investor can do: comparing grocery receipts, gathered from friends, across four cities. A basic basket — some fruit, dairy, a few staples, nothing fancy. The bill ran close to US$90 in San Francisco; US$32 in Singapore; about US$25 in Johor Bahru, just across the Malaysian border, and US$21 in New Delhi. Singapore is one of the most expensive cities on earth; but San Francisco was still ~40% pricier than that, and more than four times pricier than Johor and Delhi.

Those grocery receipts are a better macro indicator than most of what crosses my desk. Because if you strip away exchange rates and just ask what a US dollar, a Singapore dollar, a Ringgit or a Rupee can actually buy, the picture of the US economy that emerges is very different from the one in the headline GDP numbers. And once you sit with that picture for a while, a few other things I’ve been tracking — household debt, the shape of Treasury issuance, and the politics at the Federal Reserve — start to line up into a story that should worry anyone holding US assets on autopilot.

The GDP number is flattering itself

US GDP is measured in nominal dollars, and consumption is about 70% of that number. But nominal dollars in an economy where a basic grocery run costs three to four times what it costs across large parts of Asia are not the same thing as real purchasing power. See the US output through the purchasing-power-parity lens, which economists use to compare living standards across countries, and a meaningful chunk of America’s GDP lead evaporates. It isn’t that Americans are producing that much more; it’s just that everything they buy is priced that much higher.

This matters because Washington keeps pointing to a 3% year-on-year inflation print as evidence that the inflation problem is basically solved. It isn’t. 3% this year sits on top of a price level that has already doubled or tripled relative to large parts of the world over the last few decades. A “controlled” 3% on an already-inflated base is not the same as price stability — it’s a slower march up a mountain you’ve already climbed most of. When your starting altitude is this high, the next few percentage points matter a lot more than the official narrative suggests.

The debt picture looks better than it is

The standard rebuttal to any US-fragility argument is the debt chart: household debt as a share of GDP has fallen from roughly 98% at the 2008 peak to around 70% today (or from about 86% to 62% on the narrower Federal Reserve measure). In real, inflation-adjusted dollars, total household debt is still just below its 2009 high. On the surface, that looks like a system that deleveraged responsibly.

Look under the surface and the story changes. The composition of that debt has shifted away from mortgages — which are secured, long-dated, and mostly held by higher-income, higher-asset households — into student loans and auto loans, which are unsecured or attached to rapidly depreciating collateral, and which are concentrated in the bottom two-thirds of the income distribution. That’s not a healthier balance sheet; it’s the same debt burden redistributed onto households with the least capacity to absorb a shock.

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And the shock is already showing up in the delinquency data. Student loan forbearance ended, and serious delinquencies jumped from under 1% to over 16% in a single year, with roughly one in ten dollars of student debt now 90-plus days past due. Credit card serious-delinquency flow is running near 7%, on balances carrying interest rates north of 22%. Auto loans have roughly doubled in dollar terms, stretched out to six- and seven-year terms on assets that lose value the moment they leave the factory, with negative equity now common. Put it together and the flow of debt going seriously delinquent across the household sector has nearly doubled year-on-year. That is not a slow-burn statistic — that is a system starting to crack at the load-bearing joints.

Why the next move is almost certainly more easing

Here is where the fiscal and monetary threads meet. The US Treasury has been quietly running its own version of quantitative easing by issuing an unusually large share of new debt — well over 80% — as bills with maturities under a year. That’s the fiscal equivalent of financing a house with an adjustable-rate mortgage instead of a thirty-year fixed: it looks cheap when short rates are low, and it becomes a rolling crisis the moment they aren’t. It works fine right up until it doesn’t.

Meanwhile, the buffer that used to absorb funding stress — excess bank reserves — has been drawn down. The last time reserves got this thin, in September 2019, the overnight repo market seized up and the Fed had to step in with emergency liquidity almost overnight. We are closer to a repeat of that than most portfolios are priced for.

Add the politics. Whoever ends up leading the Fed inherits an institution that is still majority hawkish, at a moment when the Treasury’s own borrowing structure and a fragile household sector are both quietly begging for lower rates and more liquidity. Any new chair with an inflation-hawk reputation has every incentive to hold the line as long as politically possible — partly on principle, partly to protect their own legacy — before the pressure becomes unavoidable. But the direction of travel is not really in question. Between an over-levered household sector, a Treasury that has to keep rolling short-dated debt, and a banking system running low on reserves, the destination is the same: more balance-sheet expansion, on a scale bigger than 2020 or 2008. The only real question is how much pain arrives in the gap between now and then.

The dangerous part is the gap, not the destination

This is the part that is genuinely hard to model, and it’s the part most investors are ignoring. Everyone can see the endpoint — easier money is coming, eventually, because the alternative is a funding crisis nobody in Washington wants to own. What’s much less certain is what happens in the interval between “everyone knows QE is coming” and “QE actually arrives.” That gap is where currency stress, bond-market air pockets, and credit events tend to live. History doesn’t move in a straight line from problem to solution; it moves through a chaotic middle where things break in ways nobody predicted, before policymakers are finally forced to act. Anyone who lived through 1997, 2000, or 2008 as an investor remembers that the crisis wasn’t the eventual policy response — it was the disorderly scramble that forced the response.

And if the policy response, when it comes, is aggressive — a real “super QE" rather than a modest top-up — the inflationary consequences could be severe. An economy already running elevated inflation on top of an inflated price base, hit with a large new wave of liquidity, does not necessarily settle back into 2–3% inflation. It can just as easily accelerate toward double digits, especially with a fiscal deficit that shows no sign of shrinking.

Why this time the social risk is not purely theoretical

Here is the part that doesn’t usually make it into investment commentary, but probably should. A generation of young Americans is coming of age with weak job prospects in traditionally high paying sectors, high living costs, record levels of unsecured consumer debt, and a wall of delinquencies already forming under their feet. Layer double-digit inflation on top of that combination, and you are not just looking at a market risk. You are looking at a social one.

Civil unrest as a tail risk for the US used to be the kind of thing you’d mention only half-seriously, a footnote in a scenario-planning deck. I don’t think it’s purely theoretical anymore. It doesn’t need to become the base case to matter — even a modest, non-trivial probability of serious social instability is the kind of risk that reprices currencies, sovereign spreads, and equity risk premia long before it shows up on the evening news. Markets are usually terrible at pricing tail risks like this until the tail starts wagging the dog.

What this means for how I’m positioning

None of this is a call to panic or to abandon US assets wholesale — the United States remains the deepest, most liquid capital market in the world, and that doesn’t change overnight. But it is a case for taking seriously a scenario the consensus is currently pricing at close to zero: a period of genuine monetary, fiscal, and social stress in the US, sitting between now and the eventual “everything gets easier” resolution. That argues for holding real assets and inflation hedges; for not over-extending duration into US paper on the assumption that rates only fall from here in an orderly way; and for treating US-dollar cash as a tool rather than a safe haven by default.

The lesson from every cycle I’ve watched — 1997, 2000, 2008 — is the same: the eventual policy response is rarely the dangerous part. The dangerous part is the disorderly stretch of road that forces policymakers into that response in the first place. We may be entering that stretch of road now, and it’s worth positioning for the possibility that it gets bumpier before it gets smoother.

 

The Balloon in the Dark Room

Yesterday’s post drew a wider response than I expected, and I am grateful for it. Most readers found the argument thought-provoking and timely; a smaller number found it unnecessarily alarming and short on substance. Both reactions are fair, and I want to address the second group directly rather than let the disagreement sit unanswered.

When the numbers stop explaining themselves

Every investing career eventually runs into a stretch where the spreadsheet stops being a reliable guide. Valuation models still produce an output, but the confidence behind the output erodes, because the inputs themselves — growth rates, discount rates, terminal assumptions — are being asked to do work they were never designed for. In those stretches, experienced investors tend to fall back on something closer to pattern recognition than arithmetic: a sense, built from having sat through a few cycles, that the character of the market has shifted even before the numbers confirm it.

My sense is that we are in exactly that kind of stretch. It is not a single data point driving that view; it is the accumulation of several stress signals appearing at the same time, each individually explainable, but collectively unusual.

The signals worth naming

Fiscal sustainability. In several major economies, government deficits and debt-servicing costs have reached levels that would once have triggered a sharp market response. Instead, they have been absorbed with surprising calm, largely because interest rate cycles and demand for sovereign debt have so far cooperated. That cooperation is not guaranteed to continue indefinitely.

Sticky inflation. Headline inflation has come off its post-pandemic peaks, but the underlying components — services, wages, shelter — have proven far stickier than central banks initially projected. This matters because it narrows the room policymakers have to cut rates aggressively if growth weakens, which is precisely the tool that has rescued markets in past downturns.

Stagnating growth. Several developed economies are showing growth rates that are positive on paper but weak beneath the surface — propped up by government spending, a handful of mega-cap companies, or one-off factors, rather than broad-based private investment.

Stretched growth valuations. A narrow set of companies, heavily concentrated in AI-linked infrastructure, is being priced as though its current growth trajectory extends cleanly for a decade or more. Multiples of this kind have historically required near-perfect execution to be justified, and near-perfect execution is a high bar over a long horizon.

Rising credit stress. Pockets of the credit market — leveraged loans, private credit, and select corporate sectors — are showing early signs of strain: widening spreads, downgrades, and refinancing difficulty. Credit stress is usually a leading indicator rather than a lagging one; it tends to show up before equity markets acknowledge a problem.

Geopolitics and trade. Tariff uncertainty, shifting alliances, and logistics disruption are adding a layer of unpredictability to corporate planning that did not exist to the same degree a decade ago. Supply chains built for efficiency are being rebuilt for resilience, and that transition is expensive and slow.

Volatility across unrelated assets. Semiconductor equities, silver, bitcoin, and the SpaceX IPO have each delivered sharp, painful drawdowns in recent months. What is notable is not any single move, but that the losses have appeared across asset classes that are not normally correlated — a sign that liquidity and risk appetite, not asset-specific fundamentals, may be the common thread.

AI’s unresolved business model. Artificial intelligence has genuinely disrupted several legacy industries, and that part of the story is real. What remains unproven is whether the AI buildout itself — the capital expenditure, the compute, the infrastructure — will generate a return that justifies its cost on any reasonable timeline. Disruption of others’ business models is not the same as having a durable one of your own.

The balloon in the Dark Room

None of these signals, on its own, is a crisis. That is exactly what makes the moment harder to read, not easier. It feels like a group of persons standing in a dark room holding pins in their hands, knowing there is a balloon somewhere above, without knowing which pin — or whose hand — will find it first. The probability that no pin ever finds the balloon is not zero. But it is not the base case either, and treating it as the base case is where I think the complacent reading of this market goes wrong.

Why this could be a combination, not a repeat

Markets rarely repeat a crisis exactly; they tend to borrow ingredients from more than one. My working view is that if a serious correction unfolds from here, it is more likely to resemble a blend of three earlier episodes than a clean replay of any single one.

2008 and 2000, combined. The 2008 crisis was fundamentally a credit crisis — leverage built on assets whose value was assumed rather than tested. The 2000 crisis was a story of capital pouring into business models that had not yet proven they could generate durable cash flow. The current AI investment cycle carries elements of both: enormous capital expenditure, increasingly financed with debt and vendor-financing arrangements, directed at business models that remain commercially unproven at scale.

1997 and 1998, revisited. The Asian financial crisis and the collapse of Long-Term Capital Management were both, at their core, stories of a strengthening US dollar exposing leverage and mispricing elsewhere in the system. A materially stronger dollar today would put similar pressure on precious metals and crypto assets, both of which have attracted significant speculative positioning over the past two years.

1987, echoed. Black Monday was less about a single fundamental trigger and more about mechanics: rising rates, unresolved trade and currency disputes, stretched valuations, and — critically — automated trading systems that amplified a decline rather than cushioning it. The scale and speed of algorithmic execution in markets today is far greater than it was in 1987, which means the mechanical amplification risk, if anything, is larger, not smaller.

A downturn that borrows credit stress from 2008, unproven business models from 2000, dollar-driven deleveraging from 1997, and mechanical amplification from 1987 would not look identical to any one of those events. It could plausibly be sharper and more disorienting than any of them individually, precisely because it would be arriving from several directions at once rather than one.

What the twelve months before every crash have in common

It is worth revisiting how each of these episodes felt in the twelve months before they began, because the emotional texture tends to rhyme even when the underlying causes differ. In 1996, 1999, and 2007, the dominant mood was not fear — it was irritation with anyone who raised the possibility of a top. Alan Greenspan’s irrational exuberance remark in December 1996 was widely dismissed at the time, and the market ran for several more years before the reckoning arrived. The same pattern held in 1999, and again in 2007, when concerns about housing and credit quality were treated as the fringe view rather than the mainstream one.

I do not think 2026 sounds meaningfully different from those years. The specific worry differs each cycle, but the response to the worry — dismissal, followed by irritation, followed eventually by recognition — has been remarkably consistent. That consistency is itself part of the argument, not a footnote to it.

A closing note

None of this is a prediction with a date attached, and it should not be read as one. It is a personal, opinion-based on reading of conditions that I believe warrant more caution than the current mood in markets reflects. Markets can, and often do, remain irrational for longer than any individual view accounts for, and I could simply be wrong. Regardless, I would like to be cautious and brace myself for the “reset”. Also, I completely respect the disagreement.

 

Revisiting India’s consumption story

Over the past few years, and especially since the pandemic, a list of familiar global names has thinned out of India’s consumer landscape. Dulux Paints (AkzoNobel sold its India business to JSW Paints), MG Motor (whose Chinese parent SAIC is progressively ceding control to JSW Group), Harley-Davidson, Citibank’s and now Deutsche Bank’s retail banking franchises, Ford Motors, Metro Cash & Carry, the Disney-Star combine, and Oriflame have all either sold out, scaled down, or handed the wheel to an Indian partner. Holcim exited ACC and Ambuja Cement. And as I write this, Volkswagen is reportedly in advanced talks to give JSW Group majority control of its India operations.

Strung together like this, the list reads like a verdict: global capital is losing patience with India’s consumption story. I don’t think that verdict survives a closer look — but the list is still worth taking apart, because the reasons behind each exit tell a more interesting story than the headline count does.

Not all exits are the same

Put these names together and it may look like one trend. But actually, it is at least four different stories.

The first is genuine competitive loss in a market that has moved on. Harley-Davidson’s 2020 retreat from direct sales and the slow bleed of foreign retail banking — Citibank’s book to Axis in 2023, Deutsche Bank’s now headed to Kotak — belong here. In both cases, the economics of scale — dealer networks, branch footprints, distribution cost — favored domestic players who could out-invest and out-price the global brand. This is the closest thing to a real “local brands are winning” story, and it is real.

The second is regulatory and geopolitical, not consumption-driven at all. SAIC is diluting its stake in MG Motor primarily because Chinese capital has faced tightened scrutiny since the 2020 border standoff — not because Indian buyers have stopped wanting MG’s cars; the Windsor EV, in fact, has sold rather well. Reading MG into a consumption-story narrative is a category error.

The third is global portfolio rationalization that has little to do with India specifically. Ford’s 2021 exit was part of a worldwide restructuring that also closed plants in Brazil and elsewhere. Holcim’s sale of ACC and Ambuja was a cement conglomerate stepping back from a market it judged non-core to its European strategy — not a comment on Indian construction demand, which has stayed fairly resilient. Disney folding its India business into the Reliance-controlled JioStar venture mirrors what Disney has done to linear television everywhere as broadcast economics erode; Reliance, not the Indian consumer, is the reason Disney still has a seat at that table at all.

The fourth is a capital-and-control trade, not a retreat. Volkswagen’s reported talks with JSW are not Volkswagen leaving India — they are Volkswagen conceding, after twenty years and a stubborn sub-3 per cent market share, that it cannot fund the next EV cycle alone and needs a local partner who reads the price-sensitive Indian buyer better than Wolfsburg does.

The JSW thread

One thing this exercise turned up that I did not expect going in: JSW Group shows up on the buying side of an unusually large share of these stories — MG Motor, Dulux Paints, and now potentially Volkswagen. That is not proof of anything by itself, but it is a useful reminder that “global MNC exits India” and “India loses access to global capital and technology” are not the same sentence. In each case, an Indian conglomerate with balance-sheet strength is buying its way into precisely the categories — autos, EVs, paints — that are supposedly the casualties of a weakening consumption story. That is an odd thing to do if the underlying demand were actually disappearing.

What the FDI numbers actually say

If the consumption story were genuinely broken, I would expect the capital data to show it. It does not, at least not yet. Gross FDI inflows into India rose to roughly $39 billion in calendar 2025 per UNCTAD, DPIIT’s own FY26 numbers show a similar climb, and India’s ranking among global FDI destinations improved rather than slipped. One caveat is worth flagging honestly: UNCTAD’s tracking also shows the value of newly announced greenfield projects easing off its 2024 peak, which suggests investors are increasingly buying into existing India-scale platforms — the JSW pattern again — rather than building fresh capacity from scratch. That is a subtly different form of confidence, not necessarily a weaker one.

Where this leaves the consumption thesis

I don’t read this list of exits as evidence that India’s consumption story might be weakening. I read it as evidence that the story is maturing. The easy years, when any global brand could set up shop and ride a rising tide on its own, are behind us. What survives now is either a business with genuine India-specific scale economics, or one willing to share control and capital with a domestic partner who has already solved for the Indian price point. That is a tougher bar than it used to be — it is not the same as demand disappearing.

Investor takeaways

·         Don’t treat every foreign MNC exit as one signal. Ask why — competitive loss, geopolitics, global restructuring, or a capital/control trade each carries a different implication for India-facing businesses.

·         Watch the consolidators as closely as the businesses exiting. JSW and its peers are effectively buying discounted access to categories — autos, paints, EVs — that global capital still wants exposure to.

·         Track greenfield investment announcements, not just aggregate FDI inflows, for a cleaner read on fresh conviction versus capital simply changing hands.

·         The bifurcation thesis I have written about earlier — mass versus premium, with the middle squeezed — remains, in my view, a better explanation for these exits than a blanket loss of faith in Indian consumption.

Progress, Peril and Robustness - 2

Continuing from yesterday (see Progress, Peril and Robustness – 1)

Investment implications

A BIS report provides a clear map of where systemic risk is building, and reading it is a useful discipline before you decide how much risk to carry and where. Here is how I would prefer to incorporate the four pressure points highlighted in the BIS 2026 annual report in my investment strategy.

Not assuming the disinflation trade is safe

Markets have priced in resumption of the disinflation path that was underway before the Hormuz shock. The BIS’s own work suggests otherwise — energy shocks of this size have historically produced inflation effects that outlast the shock itself by a year or more, and the mitigating factors this time (anchored expectations, looser labour markets) are real but not guaranteed to hold if the shock persists. My own view: don’t fully unwind inflation hedges just because oil has pulled back from its peak. Real assets, select commodity exposure and inflation-linked instruments may still be relevant in a diversified book.

Separate the technology story from the financing story

I remain a believer in AI as a genuine productivity technology — the BIS’s own task-level studies show real efficiency gains. What worries me is not the technology; it is the financing structure around it. Circular financing arrangements — where the same dollar of capital seems to be creating revenue for multiple related entities — are exactly the kind of opacity that precedes a repricing. The practical takeaway: be diversified within your AI exposure rather than concentrated in the handful of hyperscalers and their closest financing partners, and treat any single-stock AI position as a venture-style bet, sized accordingly.

Private credit is not free lunch

The report flags that direct lending funds have quadrupled their exposure to AI and IT borrowers over five years, often with similar pricing and tenor despite growing concentration risk. Retail investors who have moved into private credit funds chasing yield should understand that liquidity terms in these vehicles can become binding constraints exactly when you need liquidity most. This is a reminder to price illiquidity properly rather than treat the extra yield as a free lunch.

Expect more volatile sovereign bond markets, not fewer

The BIS’s description of a fragile fiscal-financial nexus, where bond market liquidity can evaporate quickly, is a structural reason to expect higher volatility in developed market sovereign bonds over the coming years — not a one-off event, but a recurring feature. For fixed income allocations, this argues for staying closer to the shorter and intermediate end of the curve, and being selective about duration bets even when yields look attractive, since the BIS itself flags that governments may increasingly need central bank backstops to keep these markets functioning smoothly.

Reading the global report through a domestic lens

None of the four pressure points above originate in India, but all of them touch us, and in ways worth spelling out separately.

·         Energy dependence is our biggest transmission channel. India imports the overwhelming majority of its crude, and the BIS’s own exposure analysis places India among the emerging economies most affected by Hormuz-related disruption scenarios. A sustained oil price premium — even a modest one, well short of the panic peak — shows up quickly in our import bill, the rupee and the fiscal arithmetic. This is not a new theme for readers of this blog; it is the same fiscal-currency link I have written about before, just now driven by a fresh external trigger rather than a domestic one. (Read here and here)

·         Our macro buffers are genuinely better than in past crisis episodes, but they are buffers, not immunity. Strong bank balance sheets, healthy capital ratios and steady domestic institutional flows into equities have absorbed shocks well so far. That is a real strength. But a BIS report that flags global inflation persistence and fiscal fragility as base-case risks, not tail risks, argues for treating our own resilience as a cushion to lean on, not a reason for complacency about valuations.

·         India’s IT services sector sits directly in the AI capex cycle’s crosswinds. A continuation of the hyperscaler spending boom is a tailwind for the sector through cloud migration and AI-enabled services demand. But the BIS’s own warning about the sustainability of that capex — debt-funded, concentrated, partly circular — means a sharp AI capex slowdown, should it materialize, would hit sentiment toward Indian IT stocks even though our companies are several steps removed from the actual financing risk. Worth distinguishing between the operating exposure (mostly indirect and manageable) and the sentiment exposure (which can move faster than fundamentals).

·         The dollarization risk the BIS discusses is low for India today, given capital account management, but it is worth watching over a longer horizon as stablecoin regulation evolves globally and domestic crypto/stablecoin adoption picks up at the margins. This is more a five-year theme than a this-year theme.

·         On fixed income, the domestic story is somewhat more comfortable than the global one — our own fiscal consolidation path has been more disciplined than many advanced economies’, and RBI’s recent Financial Stability Report corroborates that domestic financial stress remains low by historical standards. But global yield volatility, if it persists, will still spill into our markets through FPI flows and benchmark repricing, so treat domestic bond market calm as conditional on the external environment staying orderly, not as a given.

To conclude: India’s relative position within this report is a source of comfort, not complacency. The buffers are real, but the report is fundamentally about a world where shocks have become more frequent and financial systems have become more interconnected in ways that are hard to see until they matter. Being well-diversified, avoiding concentrated bets on any single global narrative — AI, energy, or otherwise — and keeping some genuinely defensive assets in the mix remains the right posture, regardless of how sound our own banking system looks on paper.

There is a line from the Gita that I keep returning to in years like this one: योगस्थः कुरु कर्माणि सङ्गं त्यक्त्वा धनंजय — perform your actions established in yoga, having abandoned attachment. The BIS report, at its core, is a document about attachment: to easy financial conditions, to a single technology narrative, to the assumption that resilience shown once will hold indefinitely. The investor’s job, as always, is to keep doing the work — reading, rebalancing, staying diversified — without becoming attached to any one story about how the world must unfold.

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Progress, Peril and Robustness - 1