The facts
Berkshire Hathaway shares have rebounded from the slump that followed Warren Buffett’s May 5 2025 announcement that he would step down as chief executive at the end of 2025. On that day Class A shares fell 4.9% and Class B shares dropped 5.1%. A 14% decline in first‑quarter operating earnings, disclosed at the same shareholders meeting, likely contributed to the dip. After hitting lows of 14.3% for Class A and nearly 15% for Class B, the stock rallied to all‑time closing highs on Thursday, with Class A at $820,500 and Class B at $546.97. CNBC noted that Class B shares have risen about 9% since the start of October while the S&P 500 slipped 0.4%. The report links Berkshire’s outperformance to investors moving away from technology and AI stocks amid concerns over spending and future profits, and highlights Berkshire’s massive cash pile and its sizable Alphabet stake. CEO Greg Abel has described supplying power to AI data centers as an opportunity for Berkshire Hathaway Energy.
Our take
So the market has basically decided to shove its head up Berkshire Hathaway’s asshole rather than stare into the glittering void of AI’s promised future. When the thought of Warren Buffett finally leaving the helm sent investors into a collective panic, the stock didn’t just recover - it vaulted to record highs on the back of a massive cash cushion and a hefty Alphabet holding. This isn’t a triumph of strategy; it’s a flight‑to‑safety where the only thing investors trust more than the man who built the empire is the pile of cash he left behind. Greg Abel’s latest line about “supplying power to AI data centers as an opportunity” reads less like a bold growth play and more like a utility company saying, We’ll sell you electricity while you burn your own money on fancy algorithms. In other words, Berkshire isn’t building the brains behind the bots, it’s just the landlord of the server farm’s extension cords. That’s about as exciting as watching paint dry on a vault door. The numbers back up the cowardice: Class B shares up roughly 9% in a month while the broader market slumps, and each Class A share now trades for over eight hundred thousand dollars - enough to buy a mansion, a private island, or a single piece of paper that says you own a slice of a conglomerate whose most daring move is selling kilowatts to chatbots. Investors have essentially become terrified refugees, huddling in the safest bunker they can find, and that bunker happens to be Berkshire’s over‑inflated, cash‑laden safe. The real joke is the price tag: you’re paying a premium for the comfort of not having to think about AI at all. It’s a financial panic attack cured with a massive dividend and a side of profanity‑laced contempt. So sit back, enjoy those dividends, and remember: the only thing soaring higher than Berkshire’s stock is the collective cowardice of a market that would rather hide under a cash blanket than face the future. Fucking brilliant, isn’t it?
