For the week ending May 9, 2025
Ladies and gentlemen, children of all asset classes, welcome to another week of Signal & Noise—your ticket to the only show where the plot makes less sense than the Feds dot plot and everyone’s dressed in Lululemon slacks and unchecked confidence.
This week, we revisit the Nixonian roots of political showmanship and the Watergate saga that launched a thousand headlines and two reporters into myth. Long before Twitter threads and Substack exposés, Woodward and Bernstein dug through parking garages and redacted memos to expose the original Beltway soap opera. It wasn’t just the president under scrutiny it was the moment politics discovered it could do drama.
Meanwhile, JP Morgan pirouettes from ESG scolding to green capitalism like it's opening night at the Davos ballet, Warren Buffett exits the stage like a Midwestern Yoda with a Coke in one hand and a market-beating legacy in the other, and the Federal Reserve rolls out its latest production: “Waiting for Rate Cuts.”
So grab your playbill, silence your crypto apps, and let’s dive into a week where everyone’s acting like they know what’s going on. Spoiler: they don’t.
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ON THIS DAY: May 9, 1974 – Politics Officially Becomes Theater
On this day in 1974, the U.S. House Judiciary Committee kicked off formal, public impeachment hearings against President Richard Nixon. It was the Watergate scandal’s big Broadway debut—an all-star performance in the genre of political theater, featuring righteous monologues, carefully rehearsed indignation, and the birth of the congressional soundbite as artform.
It marked the day American politics stopped pretending it was about governance and embraced its true destiny: a never-ending cable-access soap opera where every participant thinks they’re the main character. C-SPAN didn't even exist yet, but the politicians were already acting like it did.
As a grade-schooler at the time, I didn’t care about Nixon, break-ins, or executive privilege. I cared about Tennessee Tuxedo and Underdog, the real heroes of weekday television. But no—every channel was wall-to-wall with stone-faced men in Sears suits using five-dollar words to say, essentially, “I’d like my face on the evening news, please.”
I didn’t know what a subpoena was, but I knew I hated it. It was interrupting my cartoons.
The hearings were pitched as a solemn civic moment, but looking back, they were the original pilot for the franchise we now call The American Political Drama, featuring all your favorite tropes: smugness, over rehearsed outrage, and the thrilling cliffhanger of Will anyone actually be held accountable?
Spoiler: Nixon resigned. Not because of the hearings, but because the walls closed in and even his dog was side-eyeing him. But the real legacy of May 9, 1974? The confirmation that Congress doesn’t just legislate. It performs. And from that day forward, governance became just another episode in a never-ending, self-important miniseries, renewed every two years whether we like it or not.
Eco-Washing in Armani: JP Morgan’s Polished Pivot from ESG Theater
JP Morgan’s ESG Two-Step: A Masterclass in Corporate Choreography
The financial behemoth that can simultaneously champion green initiatives and sidestep collective climate commitments without breaking a sweat. In January 2025, they gracefully exited the Net-Zero Banking Alliance, citing a newfound desire to "work independently to advance the interests of our firm". Fast forward a few months, and voilà! They've appointed Kai-Christian Nerger as the head of green economy banking for Europe, a move that screams, "We're still green, just not that green" .
This isn't a contradiction; it's corporate ballet. A delicate dance of appeasing both climate-conscious stakeholders and those who'd rather not see their oil stocks plummet. JP Morgan's $1 trillion commitment to climate-related initiatives, with $242 billion already facilitated since 2021, is less about saving the planet and more about capitalizing on the burgeoning green economy .
ESG investing was once the darling of Wall Street, promising both moral satisfaction and financial returns. But like a diet that lets you eat cake and lose weight, it was too good to be true. Studies have shown that high-sustainability funds often fail to outperform their less virtuous counterparts . In inflationary markets, ESG funds, heavy on tech and light on energy, tend to underperform .
The crux of the problem? ESG funds often resemble standard index funds with a green tint. They're more about optics than impact, with inconsistent measurement standards and a penchant for greenwashing. Investors are catching on, and the once-glittering ESG label is losing its luster.
JP Morgan's latest move isn't a recommitment to traditional ESG principles but a pivot towards a more nuanced approach. By appointing Nerger, a banker with a decade of experience in industrial, utility, and green economy sectors, they're signaling a shift from broad ESG metrics to sector-specific expertise .
This evolution reflects a broader trend in sustainable finance: moving away from arbitrary ESG scores towards measurable impact and financial performance. The future lies in integrating climate considerations into sophisticated risk assessments and developing products that genuinely aid clients in transitioning to a lower-carbon economy.
Green Is the New Gold (If You Play It Right)
ESG, as initially conceived, was a noble idea marred by oversimplification and overmarketing. Its decline doesn't signify the end of sustainable investing but rather a maturation. Institutions like JP Morgan are leading the way, not by brandishing ESG badges, but by embedding sustainability into their core operations.
In the end, it's not about choosing between profit and planet. It's about recognizing that in the evolving financial landscape, genuine sustainability isn't just ethically sound—it's economically savvy.
A Note to Investors who are Environmentally Conscious
Before you rush to dump your 401(k) and buy carbon offsets from a guy in Portland who also sells artisanal soap, remember this: investing in a broad, global market portfolio already gives you exposure to many ESG-friendly companies. Apple, Tesla, Ørsted, Vestas—they’re all in there. ESG purity is a mirage. In a globally interconnected financial system, trying to isolate yourself from every morally ambiguous revenue stream is like playing Six Degrees of Kevin Bacon—with weapons manufacturers and bottled water conglomerates.
If you're looking to make an impact, consider direct engagement or donations to organizations that actually move the needle. Your Vanguard fund isn't the battlefield. It's the audience. Don't expect it to throw tomatoes.
*sources for this rant below
“I am not a crook.” – Richard Nixon
The Oracle’s Last Laugh: Warren Buffett Retires, Crypto Weeps
After 60 years of publicly clowning Wall Street charlatans, guzzling Coke, and making money in a way that looked suspiciously like common sense, Warren Buffett—the man, the myth, the meat-and-potatoes investment messiah has finally decided to call it a career. Cue the Dow Jones crying into its overpriced artisanal coffee.
At 94, the Oracle of Omaha is handing over the Berkshire baton to Greg Abel, a soft-spoken Canadian who will now try to steer a $1.16 trillion juggernaut without the help of Buffett’s charmingly corny metaphors or his famously disdainful grimace anytime someone said the word “Bitcoin.”
Let’s be clear: Buffett didn’t just outperform the market. He was the market, well, if the market were actually good at its job. While others chased the latest speculative sugar high, Buffett kept it simple: buy stuff you understand, hold it longer than most people stay married, and don’t confuse volatility with intelligence.
He liked railroads. He liked banks. He liked insurance. And God help you if you tried to convince him to buy an NFT or crypto. He really liked Coca-Cola—both as a product and as a holding. Buffett’s love affair with Coke wasn’t just personal (though he reportedly drank five cans a day like some Midwestern Willy Wonka), it was emblematic of his strategy: bet on what Americans will never quit, no matter how many wellness documentaries they watch.
And yes, he liked Apple but not because it was trendy. Because it printed money like the U.S. Treasury and made products even a Luddite could love.
Buffett and his late partner Charlie Munger never missed an opportunity to drag crypto bros by their overpriced hoodies. Buffett once called Bitcoin “rat poison squared,” which is probably the nicest thing he could say without invoking SEC regulations. Munger, never one to be outdone, described it as “a venereal disease.”
This wasn’t generational grumpiness, it was classic Buffett. No cash flow? No value. No product? No thanks. If your investment thesis starts with “decentralized” and ends with “Elon tweeted,” the Oracle wanted no part of it. And unlike most pundits, he didn’t hedge his takes with "to be fair..." He was the fair.
Perhaps the most Buffett thing Buffett ever did was tell the average investor: “You’re not me, and that’s okay. Just buy a low-cost S&P 500 index fund and don’t touch it.” It was financial advice so simple, so elegant, and so profoundly boring that the financial advice industry has spent 40 years trying to ignore it.
Meanwhile, hedge fund managers charge 2 and 20 to underperform a passive ETF Buffett endorsed with all the enthusiasm of a man ordering his fourth McDouble at a shareholder meeting.
His “90/10” portfolio? 90% index fund, 10% short-term bonds. No crypto, no leveraged ETFs, no vibes-based investing. Just vanilla, compounding capitalism—like your 401(k), if your 401(k) had $160 billion in it.
Now it’s Greg Abel’s turn to sit in Buffett’s throne without Buffett’s folksy charm, without Munger’s verbal napalm, and without the Buffett Premium that’s kept Berkshire’s stock afloat every time the Fed hiccupped.
Abel is operationally savvy. He runs railroads, energy companies, and more subsidiaries than you can count without an Excel macro. But he’s not Warren. He doesn’t have that weird ability to say, “Buy what you understand,” and suddenly everyone understands it.
Still, Buffett didn’t leave him a mess. He left him $348 billion in cash and a cheat code called "common sense." Which, in the modern market, might as well be a superpower.
Warren Buffett retires not as the man who beat the market—but as the man who beat the illusion that it had to be complicated. His exit is the financial equivalent of Gandalf saying, “You’re on your own now, hobbits. Good luck with the orcs.”
He taught us that investing doesn’t have to feel like Vegas. That compound interest is still undefeated. That Coke beats Pepsi (sorry, but Pepsi is so mid). And that anyone pitching you a "tokenized real estate DAO" probably shouldn’t be trusted with a dollar, let alone your future.
So here’s to the man who told us to sit tight, shut up, and stop trying to be clever. He may be stepping back, but his voice—half Midwestern grandpa, half financial samurai—will echo every time someone asks, “Should I buy this new AI coin?” and the ghost of Buffett whispers, “What the hell is it worth?”
The Federal Reserve’s High-Stakes Coin Flip: A Drama in Three Data Points and No Actual Plan
The Federal Reserve, also known as America's favorite Magic 8-Ball in a suit, has decided (once again) not to do anything. At its May 7th meeting, Jerome Powell and his well-paid gang of economic weathervanes kept interest rates frozen at 4.25–4.50%, because honestly, what else are they supposed to do? Guess?
This marks the sixth consecutive pause, though let’s be clear this isn’t a pause. It’s a standing ovation for indecision. It's the central banking version of re-reading your business partner's Slack messages at 2 a.m., trying to figure out if “Let's circle back” meant “I'm swamped” or “I’m plotting your professional demise.”
Let’s dispense with the pretense: no one has any idea what’s going to happen next. Not Powell. Not your MBA economist.
And yet, every week a new flock of “market strategists” appears on CNBC to deliver hot takes with the confidence of a toddler in a Batman costume. Recession? Maybe. Inflation? Possibly. Rate cuts? Ask again later.
Sadly, people are out here doom-scrolling bond yields.
Powell says the Fed is “data dependent.” Because what data, exactly? Inflation is down…ish. Labor is soft…ish. Tariffs are inflationary unless they’re not. The market crashes on bad news unless it rallies. Unemployment ticks up and the Dow climbs because sure, why not.
Meanwhile, President Trump has decided now is the perfect time to channel his inner Hoover and slap tariffs on imports like he’s playing economic Whac-A-Mole with the Chinese supply chain. This introduces a thrilling twist for the Fed, who now must navigate between “tariffs stoke inflation” and “tariffs kill growth” like they’re piloting a unicycle on a tightrope in a hurricane.
Powell’s solution? “Wait and see.” Or as it’s known in policy circles: strategic blinking.
The Fed’s dot plot now looks like someone sneezed while holding a Sharpie. Some officials want four cuts, others want zero, and a few probably just misspelled “help.” No one agrees, but they all say they’re “confident.”
If you're waiting for a clean economic narrative, you’ve come to the wrong timeline. The market has been defying doom-porn predictions with the grace of a cockroach in a nuclear blast. Inflation was supposed to eat us alive. Unemployment was supposed to spike. The housing market was supposed to collapse. Instead? Tech stocks moonwalked, the labor market wheezed but refused to die, and Powell kept channeling his inner Yoda: Data unclear. Future cloudy. Adjust we must.
So here we are. Floating in a sea of speculative headlines, volatile indexes, and economic models held together with vibes and spreadsheets from 2006.
The Fed is no longer just a central bank. It's an improv troupe with a Bloomberg terminal. And its greatest performance? Convincing everyone that doing nothing is a bold strategy.
So as we await the next Fed meeting with all the anticipation of a Marvel sequel no one asked for, remember this: you don’t know what’s going to happen next. They don’t either. And that’s okay.
That’s a Wrap
If this week taught us anything, it’s that certainty is dead and theater is eternal. Politics is a performance, ESG is wardrobe, Buffett was the director who actually read the script, and the Fed?
Remember, markets will do what they do, the headlines will shout like Broadway critics on X, and Powell will nod solemnly while saying absolutely nothing.
Stay skeptical. Stay sane. And remember: just because someone speaks with conviction doesn’t mean they aren’t making it up as they go. Until next week—exit stage left.
Thanks for reading,
Lawain
As always, a gentle reminder: say your daily prayers and stay positive.
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Endnotes for Eco-Washing in Armani
JP Morgan creates new green banking leadership role. Reuters. (2025, May 8).
JPMorgan becomes latest U.S. lender to quit Net-Zero Banking Alliance. Reuters. (2025, January 7).
Do Investors Value Sustainability? A Natural Experiment Examining Ranking and Fund Flows. University of Chicago Booth School of Business.
The intimate linkage of ESG and inflation. AllianceBernstein. (Reuters, Reuters, Chicago Booth, AllianceBernstein)