The Pichai panic

What do you call a CEO who throws out the bathwater and ensures the baby goes down the drain with it? You call him Sundar Pichai.

The timing and framing of his recent BBC interview serve as a masterclass not in leadership but in sabotage. There is irrational exuberance, and then there is a form of irrational cynicism so poorly timed it borders on fiduciary vandalism.

Before we go any further, let us examine the forensic evidence of this self-inflicted wound.

Speaking to the BBC recently, Pichai opted for the role of global sceptic over that of captain of industry.

"Maybe four years ago, Google was spending less than $30 billion per year. This year, that number is going to be over $90 billion," he lamented, sounding less like a visionary investing in victory and more like a middle manager terrified of an audit.

On the possibility of an AI bubble, he hedged without conviction: "I think it is both rational and there are elements of irrationality through a moment like this." And the kicker? If the bubble bursts, "no company is going to be immune, including us."

When asked about his own product's hallucinations, he did not defend the engineering breakthrough. Instead, he offered a disclaimer worthy of a tobacco company: "The current state-of-the-art AI technology is prone to some errors... do not blindly trust everything they say."

Now, consider the suspect timeline.

He uttered these words on the exact same day his DeepMind team released Gemini 3.0, a revolutionary update meant to finally silence critics and reclaim the throne. Imagine the morale in Mountain View as engineers watched their CEO undercut their launch day with warnings about "irrationality" and "errors".

Here is the masterstroke of this sabotage: he did not say this to CNBC or Bloomberg. He chose the BBC.

A US outlet is bound by the unspoken "sensitivities" of Wall Street, the cheerleading ecosystem that keeps the stocks afloat. The BBC is not. It is immune to US market sentiment and, critically, immune to the patriotic duty of pumping American tech stocks.

By inviting a British state broadcaster into Google's headquarters in Mountain View to broadcast his doubts, Pichai bypassed the US financial press's instinct to preserve the feel-good factor. He knew they were under no obligation to apply a filter on his pessimism.

The contrast is infuriating. While Pichai was busy playing Cassandra, the real power brokers were counting their chips in Washington. The Saudis were at the White House, closing massive deals with tech companies and the Trump administration, which has been aggressively bullish on AI for the past ten months. And defying all cynicism, Nvidia released its quarterly earnings the very next day, which smashed expectations.

The chipmakers are building the rocket. Investors are fueling it. Engineers have built the engine. However, the pilot is on the BBC, signalling that this could all end in tears.

And the impact? A sharp worldwide decline in the value of tech stocks. To an estimate, this interview alone has shaved off hundreds of billions in stock value since the release. Companies can tolerate such losses, but the lives of ordinary investors can be destroyed by this.

It is not that other CEOs have not said anything provocative. Sam Altman did not discount the possibility of a bubble in a recent talk. But he did not expose his own company to this scepticism. And at any rate, while OpenAI is big, it is not Google. What brought it on then?

When the CEO of a company with $3.5 trillion market cap appears on television and complains about overshooting the actual investment needed by $90 billion, he is essentially signalling he has lost control of his company. And that he disagrees with the new decisions made. Sadly, his scepticism about his own AI wing is a sign of poor judgment. To determine the actual value of Google DeepMind products, you need to visit its AI studio online.

Mr Pichai, despite being an effective powerbroker, was never cut out for the AI age. Before Demis Hassabis was brought in to rescue the company's AI flank, he had all but destroyed it. To understand the cost of not recognising the value of AI in your products and services, look to Apple. It is performing well, right? Then why has it agreed to pay one billion dollars annually to Google DeepMind to utilise Gemini for its Siri feature? This is akin to letting the East India Company establish a factory and port on your soil. Akbar had once laughed at the Europeans for bringing a Bible printed by movable type and asked his calligraphers to produce something better. Steve Jobs was a student of calligraphy. Apple still does that best.

Mr Pichai's recent achievements are limited to getting out of the way of his AI, cloud, and TPU (tensor processing units) teams, as well as his Pixel team. He has stopped adding value. This could be the panic of a CEO, or, as our analogy suggests, a pilot who thinks their plane has been hacked and hijacked. Someone who is to be replaced by one of many rising stars.

Despite his tragic interview, there is little evidence to suggest that a bubble indeed exists. Nvidia, Palantir, Microsoft, OpenAI, Anthropic, Elon Musk's xAI and countless other companies all have incredible value and amazing revenues. Unlike Google or its parent Alphabet, their success strengthens their CEOs.

Take the brilliant example of Microsoft's CEO, Satya Nadella, who has refused to take his eyes off the AI ball from day one. Even in his recent leaked memo, he can be seen intelligently doubling down on the AI bet. When OpenAI was causing problems, he enlisted Anthropic and Nvidia for additional compute resources. He is not just a brilliant visionary CEO, as I often say, he is "good people", one of the highest praises in my book and the gold standard for a tech leader.

If you are a disgruntled employee, you can inflict damage through your costly words. Is that what just happened? It is hard to tell. However, the panic suggests that he fears being replaced.

There is also a sinister geopolitical angle, but it would take us into the realm of conspiracy theories, and I don't want to waste your time.

An outrage of this magnitude is not merely a communication error; it is a disqualifying lapse in judgment. Under the strict demands of corporate prudence, his continued tenure in either position is becoming untenable. Why? Retaining him now would signal that Alphabet's founders and board have ceased to care about ordinary investors, the visionaries propelling advancements, or indeed the technology itself. For the sake of sanity and the future, one hopes this fear is proven wrong.