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A $2.4 Trillion Company That Has Never Made a Dollar of Profit

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Estimated reading time: 11 minutes

Elon Musk stepped onto the Nasdaq floor on 12 June and told the room he had once given his rocket company less than a 10% chance of surviving at all. The crowd laughed. Then the opening bell rang, the stock leapt from a $135 offer price to $150, touched $176.52 by the afternoon, and made Musk — at least on paper — the first trillionaire in human history.

That spectacle did its job. It pulled headlines, minted a record, and handed retail investors a rare front-row seat. What it did not do was answer the question every serious buyer should ask before wiring money into a stock: what, exactly, are you paying for? SpaceX now carries a market value of roughly $2.44 trillion. It booked $18.7 billion in revenue last year and lost $8.7 billion across the fifteen months ending in March. This piece walks slowly through the gap between those two facts — because that gap is the whole story.

$75B

Raised in the offering — more than triple Alibaba, the previous record holder

$8.7B

Net loss between Jan 2025 and 31 Mar 2026, per the prospectus

82.4%

Of voting power Musk controls after the sale

This is a piece of slow journalism.

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A rocket priced to fly, and engineered to pop

SpaceX did almost nothing the ordinary way, and it started with the price tag. Where most companies float a range and let demand set the number, the underwriters fixed a single take-it-or-leave-it price of $135 and stopped taking orders a full day early, clearing all of Thursday to map out who got shares. Goldman Sachs led the syndicate, with Morgan Stanley, Bank of America, Citigroup and JPMorgan behind it.

The first public trades crossed at $150. By the closing bell the stock had settled at $160.95, up 19% on the day, and on the following Monday it tacked on another 20% to close at $192.50. Bulls read that climb as vindication. A colder read sees deliberate engineering. Bankers underprice large offerings on purpose: a stock that “pops” rewards the favored institutions who got the cheap allocation, manufactures a momentum narrative, and costs the company little in the long run. As CNN noted, it works like a realtor lowballing a listing in a hot market — make it look like a steal, then watch the bidding war.

Jay Ritter, the University of Florida finance professor who has tracked IPOs for four decades, offered the most grounding line of the week. He called the move predictable rather than miraculous.

Ritter added that the opening actually disappointed against what betting markets had predicted, even as it cleared the offer price comfortably. The pop, in other words, looked smaller than the hype implied — a useful first crack in the narrative.

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The number nobody at the bell mentioned

Strip away the confetti and the prospectus tells a blunter story. SpaceX has never turned a profit. It generated $18.7 billion in revenue in 2025 and bled $8.7 billion in net losses across the most recent fifteen months. Its trailing earnings per share sit at negative $2.94. Capital expenditure in the first quarter of 2026 alone hit $10.1 billion — more than double the $4.1 billion it spent a year earlier — and the bulk of that money flowed into artificial intelligence rather than rockets.

Ritter framed the scale of the climb ahead in plain arithmetic: Alphabet, Apple and Nvidia each generate more than $100 billion in annual after-tax profit, while SpaceX generates none. Alphabet alone booked roughly $400 billion in 2025 revenue — more than twenty times SpaceX’s top line — and the chart below makes the distance obvious.

None of this is hidden. SpaceX disclosed all of it. The point is not that the company deceived anyone; the point is that the celebration on the Nasdaq floor and the data inside the filing tell two genuinely different stories, and only one of them made the headlines.

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What independent analysts actually think it’s worth

Here the critique stops being rhetorical and starts being quantified. Independent research does not share the market’s enthusiasm. Morningstar analyst Nicolas Owens published a note valuing the company at $63 a share and labelled the stock plainly overvalued — a fair-value estimate that lands near $0.8 trillion, roughly a third of where the shares trade today. A separate Morningstar assessment put the figure at $780 billion. Either way, the independent number sits a trillion-and-a-half dollars below the tape.

Shotwell’s defiance is earned — SpaceX has a genuine engineering record few firms can match. But “we do hard things” is an answer about capability, not about price. A company can be extraordinary and its stock can still cost too much. The two charts that matter here are flight path and fair value, and the second one is where the vertigo sets in.

Read that figure slowly. The market values SpaceX at about $2.44 trillion. The most bullish sell-side target on the Street — from NewStreet Research — implies roughly $2.16 trillion, still below the current price. Morningstar’s independent model implies about $0.82 trillion. When even the optimists’ fair value trails the live quote, the stock is not pricing the business; it is pricing belief.

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