A Fungible Worldview

Why Cluely Is The Dark Spirit of Venture Capital, Whether You Like It Or Not

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I've written before about the fact that you can only think about one thing at a time. No matter how fast you try and run, no matter how much content you try and consume, no matter how much capital you seek to deploy — all of it can only happen one thought at a time.

Sometimes those individual choices can feel so fleeting that they may not even matter. What's one more YouTube video? What's one more doughnut? What's one more angry blowup at my partner? What's one more flyer investment in a founder riddled in red flags that may or may not work out?

But as I said last time I wrote about this idea: "You, as a person, are the sum total of all the things you do, think, hear, write, and say."

The same is true of venture capital. I've written ad naseam about how venture, as an industry, has increasingly become centered around scale and velocity. Consider the implications of that emphasis.

If you act manically, you can do a LOT of things in any given day. If you never stop to sit and focus and do nothing; the volume of your "activities" could be 10x that of the average person. And when you do that, the importance of any individual choice can seem even more inconsequential.

The same is true of venture capital. The larger the pool of dollars you have to deploy, the less important any particular dollar may seem in the grand scheme of things.

This is what I would call a fungible mindset. The more actions I take, the more fungible each action becomes and the less I care about the implications of any particular action.

But a fungible mindset leads to a fungible worldview.

The Attention Addict

What is guiding my thoughts today is the reactions online to a company called Cluely raising a $15M Series A from a16z. Feels like a pretty run-of-the-mill announcement. But the controversy surrounding the announcement is a highly crafted product.

First, Cluely launched with the tagline "cheating on everything." The company's website is fairly innocuous. It's an AI tool that "sees what you see and hears what you hear" without being seen by anyone else. It records Zoom calls without joining them, it sees the context on your screen, and, in the launch video at least, the idea would be embedding Cluely into glasses so you can "cheat" on the go.

Roy Lee, the CEO, has hyped controversy, leaning into the fact that he got kicked out of Columbia for creating a tool to help software engineers cheat on coding interviews.

From there it was burning investor money on traveling, fancy suits, throwing YC after parties where the cops get called, hiring 50 interns to make content, and having strippers in the office.

Cluely's defense? Attention is the currency of the modern economy. It doesn't matter what they do or how crazy it is, as long as it gets attention.

Roy also defends Cluely saying "there is not a single soul here who believes that we are building a cheating company." Instead, the idea articulated in the company's fundraising video is "today it's cheating, tomorrow its fair." The company weaponizes hype around an already controversial take in regards to AI. Is AI cheating? While more buttoned up AI companies trip over themselves trying to explain why its augmenting humans, not cheating, Cluely leans into the controversy. "Damn right it's cheating. For now!"

The attention currency is only worth something if you can spend it, and Cluely's attention engine seems to be minting something that is spendable. Roy has said they've closed consumer and enterprise revenue as a result of the controversial hype machine:

"The only reason that I have the contracts that I do right now is because the decision makers at these enterprise companies have seen my Twitter and think I'm funny. I would never have these contracts is I was just some lame, posting about this random transluscent glass screen overlay. If that's all Cluely was, just AI sales calls, I wouldn't have these contracts. I have these contracts because I'm willing to take the risk be polarizing and some people support me."

And Cluely's investors stand by that strategy. Bryan Kim, who led a16z's Series A in Cluely, said on TBPN that "a lot of people think it's just hype, just stunts. But the truth is that he's actually converting that into revenue." And if you're surprised by that, then you haven't been paying attention to the evolution of a16z.

Textbook a16z

My most popular pieces have been writing about the "Blackstone of Innovation" and the "Capital Agglomerators". While there are a number of firms about which these dynamics can be instructive, there is no firm that better personifies this evolution than a16z.

Scale & Velocity

a16z is the first corporate venture fund, not in the sense that its sponsored by a corporation, like Intel Capital or PayPal Ventures, but in that the venture fund IS a corporation. The firm is managing at least $56 billion across a half dozen different strategies, and has over 500 employees. If that's not a corporation, I don't know what qualifies.

I've also written extensively about how these types of firms are not in the business of "venture scale returns." That doesn't mean they don't want to make money or bet on big companies. But it means that their business model doesn't require them to put up 10x funds or 20% IRR. The Unholy Trinity of Venture Capital is the best piece I've written on why thats the case.

But suffice it to say, a16z is the epitome of venture capital's new ethos of scale and velocity. They want bigger funds, more people, more investments, and they HAVE to be in the winner. Which means that they'll gladly back multiple companies in the same space. Take foundation model companies as an example. They're in, at least, five, investing in OpenAI, xAI, Thinking Machines, Mistral, and SSI.

I've written before about how this pursuit of scale and velocity can lead to what I described above: a fungible worldview.

In a piece I wrote in August 2022 called The Rise of The Cash Man I talked about how a16z wrote its single largest check at the time into Adam Neumann's new company, Flow.

a16z went through a dizzying philosophical journey.

In April 2020, Marc Andreessen declared "it's time to build," touching on, among other things, our inability to build adequate housing. But at the same time, Andreessen was pushing to stop new housing developments in his own town. Then, a16z's investment in Flow described the company as a "direct strike" on the housing market. The strike? Saltwater pools and dog valets.

So we need to build. But not here. But the housing crisis needs to be solved. For rich people with saltwater pools.

On top of that, Flow has demonstrated one thread of a clear tie to a need, both for capital intensive businesses like Flow (buying up luxury rental properties) and a16z (raising $5B+ every few years) to connect themselves to the largest pools of capital.

In June 2025, a16z doubled down on Flow, saying the "momentum has allowed Flow to reach beyond the United States... [launching] operations in Saudi Arabia." Right in line with a16z's and Adam Neumann's very public courtship of Saudi money. Meanwhile, a16z's American Dynamism practice typically emphasizes the need for the US to "fortify" itself against influence.

So how does a16z, as a firm, think about the housing crisis? Or taking Saudi oil money? Unclear. But what is clear? Scale. And velocity.

Winning So Goddamn Always

In writing over and over again about the increasing bifurcation between large venture firms and everyone else, I always stop short of openly criticizing the strategy of larger firms. Why? Because its simply playing a different game.

a16z is playing a very specific game and they are really freaking good at it.

If they want to seek scale over discipline, then that is well within the confines of their strategy. If they want to seek indexed exposure over targeted founder selection, that's their prerogative. If they can fund companies that, at least on the outside, look philosophically counter-positioned, then they can do that.

But for some people that breadth of philosophy can cause ripples.

The Implications of a Fungible Worldview

Take, for example, a16z's exceptional marketing control of the idea of "American Dynamism." Not just defense, but industrialism writ-large became a category and practice for the firm. And, again, they're winning! They have an exceptional portfolio of defense and industrial companies that have the potential to be generation-defining businesses.

But for many of the founders in those categories, they have the OPPOSITE of a fungible worldview. They have an incredibly determined and resolute perspective on what kind of future they want to shape.

Take Augustus Doricko, the founder and CEO of Rainmaker. He's intent on solving water shortages and crop failure by leveraging cloud seeding to make it rain. His worldview is highly determined.

You would think that, even if not officially on the cap table, but philosophically in the ideological trenches, someone like Augustus and someone who held a16z's espoused "American Dynamism" mentality would be closely aligned in their worldviews.

But in response to Cluely's $15M Series A from a16z, Augustus responded out loud to the abrupt disruption of what he may have thought was an aligned worldview.

Source: Twitter

And I can understand his frustration. Other people expressed similar sentiments, pointing out how much progress $15M could drive in their own categories buying CNC machines, reshoring American manufacturing, curing diseases, etc. Categories they see as fundamentally net positive in literally improving the quality of the world.

So how can someone who espouses such an inspiring and almost pure worldview, like American Dynamism, turn around and fund something that feels so diametrically opposed?

The Means & The End

I had previously only tangentially heard about what Cluely does / is doing, and had found it distasteful and annoying. Digging into the details to write this piece, I will admit that I understand the strategy. This idea of leveraging a "stunt marketing" machine to generate attention currency and then convert that into revenue? It makes sense. In a world increasingly driven by social media, hype, and attention, distribution is a difficult nut to crack.

Despite understanding the strategy, though, I take my ultimate issue with the self-described worldview that Roy Lee seems to take in how he's building Cluely.

In an interview with Molly O'Shea on Sourcery, Roy and Molly have this interesting back and forth starting with a conversation about Elon Musk. As Roy explains:

"Elon Musk is the most controversial person in the world, and he's a founder that everyone looks up to. He's undeniably made it. When you become big enough, you become untouchable and the risk of controversy becomes as close to zero as it gets. Elon can say whatever the f*ck he wants."

Molly pushes back, saying he's the richest man on earth and has many billion dollar companies that shield him from controversy.

Roy responds, saying "Once you make it, you are shielded."

Again, Molly pushes back: "But he didn't make it by being controversial. He made it by working really hard."

But Roy doubles down:

"I would push back on the idea that he didn't make it by being controversial. The person that he is right now is very likely similar to the person he was when he was 20. And I guarantee the bets he's making now that are controversial and people think are crazy are the same bets he would have made 20 years ago, he just didn't market it so publicly. The difference is that I'm being so public about the marketing of it."

In Roy's mind, it seems, Elon Musk is controversial first and right second.

But in my mind, Elon Musk is right from first principles. He may be contrarian in his first principles. And his contrarian perspectives may be controversial. But he is, first and foremost, building from correct first principles.

Roy’s approach to using controversy to sell software reminds me of Mr. Beast using his YouTube channel to sell chocolate.

“Are you passionate about chocolate? Who cares; its a commodity that sells.”

“Are you passionate about ‘cheating’ software? If that’s what the people are buying!”

Controversy is, indeed, a marketing tactic. But inviting controversy only works long-term if you're also right. As Roy admits himself:

"Every single great person in the world has had a point in their lives where they face extreme controversy. When you fail, you become SBF. When you win, you become Elon Musk and Sam Altman. At the end of the line, the person with the most attention has 50% of people rooting against them and 50% of people rooting for them. The only thing is if you can hit escape velocity before pissing off too many people."

Controversy, in itself, is rarely a viable long-term strategy. Unless, maybe, you’re Martin Shkreli.

What's Your Worldview?

In the eyes of people like a16z or Roy Lee, the ends justify the means. It doesn't matter what you do, as long as it gets attention, revenue, capital, success.

The question is... is that your worldview?

Obviously when we start talking about the ends, its much easier to accept. Would you rather have $50B? Or $0? Would you rather have revenue? Or not have revenue?

Roy would say he wants revenue, so he'll bring strippers in his office.

a16z would say they want $50B so they'll back founders who have destroyed capital and take Saudi money.

And that is their prerogative. I'm not here to pass judgement on those tactics.

But the key concern inherent in the increasing prevalence of fungible worldviews is that people, increasingly, stand for very little.

We don't do things because they're right. We do things because of what they lead to. We will do things that are wrong because we believe what they lead to is preferrable.

And even more importantly, we believe that if we just do a LOT of things quickly enough then in the long-run the bad things won't matter. But, while I'm not here to pass judgement, I am here to reiterate this point:

Life is cumulative. Every choice you make has an impact on your soul. So choose wisely.

Postscript

If you’re reading this, then you get a little bonus from anyone who read it in their emails. After I hit publish, I realized I had left out one of the best takes I saw on Cluely and wanted to include it, discuss it, unpack it. But alas, sometimes I have too many sources and not enough time amidst my early morning panic writing.

Since I didn’t have the ability to weave it into my narrative, I’ll just include it here in its entirety. This is a great post on X from bubble boi that encapsulated many of my feelings:

I simply cannot “hate” Cluely.

Hate would presuppose a betrayal of some authentic moral substance, yet what we witness in Cluely is precisely the absence of substance, it is the pure performative excess of our age. San Francisco, the shimmering techno-utopia, overflows with identical characters; most merely veil their vanity and predatory behavior beneath TED talks, AI summits, VC fireside chats, and the soft tyranny of kombucha taps.

Cluely, however, refuses the veil. They magnify the narcissistic core of the start-up cosmology until it becomes a screaming caricature a grotesque theatre in which the venture-capital ego parades in designer athleisure, chanting “disruption” while grinding its employees into gig-economy dust. We’ve traded in Patrick Bateman’s polished Wall-Street sadism, for the hoodie-clad prophet of infinite scale, a sociopath whose weapon is not the axe but the KPI dashboard.

The cruelty? It is systemic, algorithmic, JIRA tickets and 2 a.m. slack pings.

The abuse? Wrapped in equity grants, vesting schedules, and the promise of a venture capital partnership following a successful exit where the abused becomes the abuser. Cluely is not unique in this regard they merely have turned the knob to eleven, amplifying the obscene vanity already endemic to the Bay Area’s temple of self-curated brands.

And therein lies the joke… the sublime, obscene joke:

By exaggerating the rituals of founder hagiography, Cluely exposes the whole circuit of exploitation that sustains it. We laugh, yet our laughter is uneasy, for what we confront in his performance is our own complicity. Cluely is the carnival mirror in which every well-meaning product manager, every “mission-driven” angel investor, must see the distorted reflection of the very system they nourish.

That is why I do not hate Cluely; I thank them for staging, in the language of farce, the truth we all politely ignore.

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