Michael Burry

Burry is a pure fundamental analyst. He reads the actual documents.

Not the analyst summary. Not the ratings agency report.

The actual prospectus, the loan files, the footnotes. For the Big Short trade, he read thousands of individual mortgage loan documents.

Nobody else was doing that. Analysts were looking at aggregate statistics.

The aggregate statistics looked fine. The individual loans were a disaster.

His basic method: find something everyone is ignoring, do the work to understand why it''s mispriced, take a position, and wait. The waiting is the hard part.

He was short the housing market for two years before it collapsed. During those two years his investors were losing money on paper and threatening legal action.

He locked redemptions to prevent forced liquidation. He was right and it cost him two years of misery to prove it.

Bill Ackman

Ackman is a concentrated, long-hold, activist investor. He typically owns 5–10 positions at a time — sometimes fewer.

Each one involves exhaustive research. If he's buying, he has usually already built a 100-slide deck explaining exactly what's wrong with the company and exactly what needs to change to fix it.

His style is the opposite of index investing. He wants a controlling voice at the table.

He wants to talk to the CEO. He wants the board to change.

That's the "activist" part — he's not just buying a stock and hoping it goes up. He's buying it with a plan to force the thing that will make it go up.

The strategy works until it doesn't. When the thesis is right, he wins massively.

When the thesis is wrong and he's also very public about it, the losses are spectacular.

Michael Burry

Read the documents. That is basically the whole philosophy.

Not the summary. Not the analyst report.

The actual documents. Most investors don''t do this because it''s tedious and slow and it requires a tolerance for complexity that most people don''t want to develop.

His second rule: be willing to be lonely. His housing short was a deeply contrarian position that most finance professionals thought was ridiculous.

He didn''t need their validation. He needed the math to work.

His third: factor in time when sizing a position. The housing market stayed wrong for two years.

Size your position so you can survive being right too early.

Bill Ackman

Ackman's core belief is that markets frequently misprice assets when the story around them is either too negative or too complicated. He looks for businesses he can understand deeply, with a gap between what the market thinks they're worth and what he thinks they're worth.

He's talked extensively about asymmetric bets — situations where you can be wrong and lose a small amount, but right and make a lot. He believes activist investing works because most company boards are too comfortable and most CEOs have too little accountability.

He thinks public pressure, when backed by real analysis, is a legitimate tool for creating value. Whether that makes him a hero or a villain depends on which company you ask.

Michael Burry

He concentrates heavily. When he has a thesis, he puts a large portion of the fund into it.

He also used leverage on the housing trade — borrowing to buy credit default swaps amplified both the wait and the eventual payoff. His risk tolerance is high in the sense that he can hold a losing position for years if the fundamental analysis is intact.

It is low in the sense that he won''t touch anything he doesn''t deeply understand. He doesn''t trade momentum or narratives.

If the math doesn''t work, he''s not interested.

Bill Ackman

Ackman runs highly concentrated books and uses leverage. That's the opposite of conservative.

He'll put 20–30% of the fund in a single position if he believes in it. He also uses options and credit derivatives — his March 2020 COVID hedge was built using credit default swaps, instruments most retail investors have never heard of.

He famously described his risk approach as: "I only invest when the downside is zero and the upside is unlimited" — which sounds great until you lose $4 billion on one trade. The honest version is: he's a high-conviction investor with a high tolerance for pain on the way to being right.

Michael Burry

He lives in Saratoga, California. He is notoriously private — he has opened and deleted social media accounts multiple times after his market commentary attracted more attention than he wanted.

He occasionally posts about market risks and then goes quiet for months. He has a son with Asperger''s syndrome, and the experience led him to recognise similar traits in himself and pursue his own autism diagnosis as an adult.

He doesn''t do conferences. He doesn''t do interviews.

He files his quarterly 13F and lets the positions speak.

Bill Ackman

Ackman has a taste for the finer things and doesn't pretend otherwise. He owns a large Manhattan apartment, he's been photographed at high-end charity events, and his social circle overlaps with New York media, finance, and political elite.

He and his second wife, Neri Oxman, have a high public profile — she's a former MIT professor and design pioneer. He gave $25 million to Harvard (his alma mater), though the relationship became famously strained in 2023 when he led a very public campaign against Harvard's president over campus antisemitism, ultimately contributing to her resignation.

He is not a guy who stays quiet about anything.

Michael Burry

The housing trade. In 2005, Burry read thousands of subprime mortgage loan documents and concluded the US housing market was built on loans that would eventually default in large numbers.

He persuaded Goldman Sachs and Deutsche Bank to sell him credit default swaps on mortgage-backed securities — essentially insurance that paid out when the mortgages defaulted. The banks thought he was wrong.

They were happy to take his premiums. In 2007–2008 the mortgages defaulted.

His investors made $700 million. Burry personally made about $100 million.

The banks that sold him the swaps needed government bailouts to survive.

Bill Ackman

The COVID hedge in March 2020 is the one. As markets started selling off in late February, Ackman quietly spent $27 million buying credit default swaps — basically insurance on corporate bonds defaulting if the economy collapsed.

He then went on CNBC on March 18, 2020, visibly emotional, and said "hell is coming." The market kept dropping. Three weeks later, he unwound the trade.

The $27 million had turned into $2.6 billion. That's roughly a 100x return in under a month.

He used the proceeds to buy stocks at the market bottom. He then made another fortune as markets recovered.

The whole sequence — hedge, cry on TV, buy the dip, profit — is one of the more remarkable individual trade sequences in recent hedge fund history.

Michael Burry

The trade nearly destroyed him before it paid off. He locked investor redemptions to prevent forced liquidation of his position — probably the right call, but it created a legal and emotional nightmare that he''s described as one of the worst periods of his life.

He also closed Scion to outside investors after winning, which in hindsight was leaving behind an institutional money management career after one of the greatest trades in history. He''s never explained that decision fully.

It may have been the right one. It may not have been.

Bill Ackman

The Valeant Pharmaceuticals disaster is the one. Ackman built a massive position in Valeant starting in 2015, eventually owning about $4 billion worth of shares.

His thesis was that Valeant's model — aggressively raising drug prices and cutting R&D — was brilliant. Congress, journalists, and eventually the SEC had a different view.

The stock collapsed from $260 to under $10. Ackman spent months publicly defending the position, appearing on CNBC repeatedly to explain why it would recover.

It didn't. He finally sold in 2017 at a loss of approximately $4 billion.

It's the most expensive public loss in hedge fund activism history. The lesson he's cited: don't get emotionally attached to a position, and be faster to recognize when the fundamental thesis has broken.

Michael Burry

Michael Burry was born in San Jose, California in 1971. He lost his left eye to retinoblastoma as a child and has worn a prosthetic eye since.

He studied economics at UCLA and then went to Vanderbilt University School of Medicine. During his medical residency at Stanford, he posted detailed stock analysis on investor message boards between midnight and 3 AM.

The quality was consistently good enough that people in finance started paying attention.

He left his residency in 2000 — one year from finishing — to start Scion Capital with $1.1 million in loans from his family. No finance credentials.

Just a public track record and conviction. In his first full year, the S&P 500 fell 11.9%.

Scion returned 55%. From 2001 to 2008, Scion returned over 489% against the S&P 500's 3%.

Then he made the trade.

Bill Ackman

Bill Ackman grew up in Chappaqua, New York, the son of a real estate finance chairman. He was a history major at Harvard — class of 1988 — then went straight to Harvard Business School.

His first venture was Gotham Partners, a real estate and value investing fund he started in 1992 with a Harvard classmate. It was a disaster.

The fund made concentrated bets on illiquid real estate and had to be wound down by 2003 under serious investor pressure and SEC scrutiny.

He didn't quit. In 2004 he launched Pershing Square Capital Management, this time with a clearer focus: take large stakes in companies, go public with his thesis, and use activist pressure to force management changes.

The approach worked. His reputation was built on detailed, public investment presentations — sometimes running 100+ slides — that became must-reads on Wall Street.

He turned activist investing into something that felt more like journalism than finance: research a company, find what's broken, publish everything, and bet heavily on being right.

Michael Burry

Scion Capital ran from 2000 to 2008. He closed it to outside investors after the Big Short trade — partly because managing money for clients who were screaming at him to reverse a position he knew was right was a genuinely miserable experience, and partly because he didn't need to anymore.

He relaunched as Scion Asset Management, a personal vehicle he still runs today. His current investing is more conventional — value picks, occasional activist positions, portfolio bets that get attention when his 13F filings come out.

He bought GameStop before Reddit did. He shorted Tesla.

He has positioned in water rights and farmland. He tends to be early, which is both his gift and his problem.

Bill Ackman

Pershing Square Capital Management is his flagship hedge fund, managing around $16 billion. His most famous public positions have included Canadian Pacific Railway, where he pushed successfully for a new CEO and a turnaround that made Pershing Square hundreds of millions.

He held a massive position in Valeant Pharmaceuticals from 2015 to 2017 — which will come up again. He took a huge bet on General Growth Properties during the 2008 financial crisis when no one else would touch it.

That one returned over $1 billion.

He has also done business on the other side: Pershing Square Holdings is his publicly listed vehicle on Euronext Amsterdam, which lets retail investors access his fund — unusual for a hedge fund of this size. He's been a major Burger King and Restaurant Brands International investor, and he backed Fannie Mae and Freddie Mac preferred shares in a long-running legal battle with the government.

Michael Burry

BA in Economics, UCLA. MD, Vanderbilt University School of Medicine, 1999.

He completed three years of his medical residency at Stanford before leaving to start Scion Capital. He is technically a licensed physician who never practiced.

Bill Ackman

Harvard College, BA in History, 1988. Harvard Business School, MBA, 1992.

He's been a major Harvard donor — and major Harvard critic — throughout his career. The irony of his most public fight being with his own alma mater was not lost on anyone.