AI Will Disrupt the Wrong Jobs First
Why the AI Gold Rush is Already Rigged
ESG funds and green finance promise impact—but most just repackage status quo capital with a new label. Here’s how the game works, and who profits.
Introduction
“Green capital” was supposed to change the world.
Instead, it became a corporate PR campaign. Wall Street didn’t go green. It went grayscale—blurring the line between impact and illusion. If you still believe ESG is about ethics, you’re reading the wrong deck.
We were promised transformation. What we got was a rebrand.
The ESG Gold Rush: From Mandate to Marketing
When capital looks for a story, ESG became its perfect alibi. Over the past decade, trillions have flowed into funds labeled “ESG,” “sustainable,” or “climate-aligned.” The pitch was simple: invest with conscience, without sacrificing return. For institutions under pressure to align with societal goals, it seemed like a shortcut to virtue.
But look closely, and the mechanics are old. ESG indices were built to fit what already existed. Scoring systems were constructed more for compliance optics than climate outcomes. Asset managers created new wrappers around old holdings. A fossil fuel-heavy fund could earn an ESG label by tilting 2% into renewables and adjusting its narrative.
Behind it all was fiduciary obligation—not ecological conviction. Take BlackRock. Publicly, it positioned itself as a steward of sustainability. Privately, it assured shareholders that performance—not protest—remained paramount. The message was double-coded: signal virtue to one audience, signal continuity to another.
Rebrand, Don’t Reform: The Playbook
Green capital’s core tactic isn’t reform. It’s reframing. A minor shift in portfolio exposure, paired with major investment in storytelling, becomes a “climate strategy.” Capital doesn’t change behavior—it changes language.
Oil majors now qualify for ESG funds. Why? Because they issue “sustainability-linked” bonds and commit to net-zero targets far enough into the future to be functionally irrelevant. Shell, for instance, marketed sustainability bonds while simultaneously expanding exploration projects. The emissions curve didn’t change. The perception did.
This is not deception at the margins—it’s a systemic pattern. ESG, at scale, becomes a liquidity vehicle for incumbents, not a growth engine for innovation. The very firms responsible for extraction are now being rewarded for “transition narratives” that preserve their core model while upgrading their press releases.
The Quiet Winners: Who’s Really Profiting
Every bubble has its architects. ESG is no different. Consultants, ratings agencies, and asset managers built a lucrative ecosystem around classification, compliance, and capital flows. The ESG overlay became a new fee layer. New metrics meant new benchmarks. New benchmarks meant new products.
Venture firms weren’t immune either. Slapping “climate tech” on any SaaS tool became a valuation multiplier. A B2B dashboard with a sustainability tab could suddenly raise at three times the multiple. The positioning was green; the business model was grayscale.
Then there are the shadow players—legal teams, PR agencies, and regulatory advisors—who ensured that the narratives stayed aligned, even when the data didn’t. These weren’t the companies solving climate challenges. They were the ones capitalizing on climate language.
The Strategic Risk Few Are Pricing In
But bubbles don’t last. The reputational risk is catching up. In the U.S., anti-ESG sentiment is rising in state-level politics. In Europe, regulatory tightening through frameworks like SFDR is forcing disclosures that make it harder to hide misalignment.
When trust becomes a performance, the audience eventually walks out. Reputational arbitrage works—until it doesn’t. The risk isn’t just regulatory. It’s structural. Misallocated capital creates blind spots. When funds chase the appearance of impact, they ignore the substance of it. This leaves genuine innovation underfunded and market signals distorted.
In that vacuum, real solutions stagnate while narratives scale. The result? A generation of climate-aligned capital that feels busy but moves slow. Strategic inertia dressed up as strategic investment.
What Real Strategic Green Looks Like
So what does signal look like in a sea of noise? It starts with different criteria.
Real strategic green doesn’t depend on optics. It anchors on technical edge, time-arbitrage, and problem-specific rigor. It seeks industrial breakthroughs—materials, energy systems, infrastructure layers—that are hard to narrate but powerful to compound.
These are not the companies with the cleanest decks. They’re the ones with the hardest problems and the longest horizons. Strategic green capital takes the friction instead of avoiding it. It funds transformation in quiet rooms, not headlines.
It doesn’t chase the ESG label. It ignores it entirely.
Impact
Clean capital isn’t what you’re told it is. It’s not glossy. It’s not always marketable. And it rarely fits inside an index.
Green capital, as it exists today, is less about transition and more about translation—taking the old world and dressing it in new terms. But change doesn’t come from rebranded inertia. It comes from deliberate discomfort. From systems that work, not stories that sell.
Impact isn’t a narrative. It’s a result. And it doesn’t live in the fund factsheet. It lives in the physics of what actually changes.
