The conversation lately around M&A failures and regulatory overreach has been echoing through the corridors of tech — and it’s hard not to notice. At Dellecod, we’ve been watching this new terrain form beneath our feet, not just as builders but as observers of the system we operate within.
For those of us who came up in software when the industry was more or less left to its own devices, the past four years have felt like winter. Not the kind that comes with stillness and quiet, but the kind full of storms. IPOs stalled. Deals blown up mid-process. Promising startups quietly folding. And all of it shaped by growing pressure from Washington.
Take Figma. The company should have been a high note — innovation rewarded, business model proven, a $20 billion vote of confidence from Adobe. But instead, its acquisition became a political football. The FTC’s move to block it, followed by what felt like celebratory messaging from leadership there, turned what could have been a signal of American tech strength into a cautionary tale.
One person’s monopoly is another person’s success story. And yet our regulatory system still struggles to measure value in today's world. Is an iPhone a phone, a camera, or a tiny television? What is market share when a free product competes with a paid one? The frameworks in use — the Herfindahl-Hirschman Index, for example — weren’t built for intangible markets running on data and APIs.
The response? Deal structures are warping. Instead of full acquisitions, we’re seeing “aqua-fires” — a hybrid model where tech giants scoop up the talent, leave the rest of the company behind, and avoid scrutiny. It’s telling. Windsurf’s case was particularly striking: only 40 engineers made the jump to Google AI; over 200 others stayed behind, cut off from the upside. At least $100 million remained with the shell of the company, but without the team or momentum, what future does that really buy?
In theory, this workaround might look clever. In practice, it’s awkward and often painful. The fractured teams, the incomplete transfers, the odd blend of celebration and attrition — none of it benefits the overall ecosystem. It’s a symptom of a deeper friction between what founders are trying to build and what the state is trying to control.
And while regulators sharpen their tools, China and other countries are leaning in. Open-source AI models like DeepSeek and Qwen are rapidly evolving. Policies are more permissive. Energy constraints are taken seriously — but not as reasons to clamp down. If investors and builders feel consistently resisted here, many of them will pick up and leave. Some already have.
There’s also irony in having the loudest critics of AI and crypto coming from centers of great technological benefit. We meet people all the time — educators, lawyers, policymakers — who are both anxious and fascinated by what’s coming. It's not hard to see that this tension will intensify. AI isn’t just a sector. It has the potential to renegotiate the boundaries of entire professions, and the louder it gets, the bolder those defending the status quo may become.
That puts us at a crossroads. We can see the contours of a possible future if we do nothing — one that sidelines innovation and leaves AI breakthroughs to others. Or, we can move forward with purpose. Not just reactive lobbying or defensive funding rounds. Something bold and preemptive.
Drafting model legislation is a good start. Finding tech-forward governments willing to pilot regulatory sandboxes — even better. Maybe "Elon Salvador" ends up being more than a punchline. But even in places like the U.S., opportunities exist at the state level. The goal isn’t to tear down regulation. It’s to modernize it. Align it with how software actually works today.
And if we do need new structures — acquisitions included — maybe we can handle them better. “Non-keyman” clauses, more equitable payout structures, honest negotiations that don’t split teams into winners and “others.” Fewer zero-sum outcomes, more integrity.
What’s clear is that innovation isn’t inevitable. It’s shaped by policy, perception, and the imagination of both builders and lawmakers. In moments like this, the most thoughtful thing we can do is take responsibility for that shaping — before it’s shaped without us.
We wouldn't be building what we’re building if we didn’t have a deep belief in what comes next. But belief needs room to grow. The next few years will determine how much of that room remains in the places we once called home.