Young investors chase AI boom despite tech stock volatility

Investing has become a necessity. Our purchasing power is shrinking.
Michelle Huynh explains why young people feel compelled to enter the stock market despite the risks.
Mark

Why do you think young people feel they have to invest at all? Why not just save?

Mimi

Because saving doesn't keep pace with inflation anymore. Your money loses value sitting in a bank account. For someone like Michelle, who made a promise to her family, investing feels like the only realistic path to the goal she set.

Mark

But they're taking enormous risks. Some of these people have seen 50 percent swings in a single month.

Mimi

True. But they're also young. They have time to recover from a crash. A 26-year-old can afford to be wrong in ways a 56-year-old cannot. That's the logic, anyway.

Mark

Is it working? Are they actually getting rich?

Mimi

Some are. Shyan Lim turned 13,000 pounds into 57,000 in less than a year. But that's partly luck, partly timing, and partly the fact that he got in early on a sector that's been on fire. Others, like Jacqueline, are haunted by the trades they didn't make.

Mark

What worries you most about this trend?

Mimi

The borrowed money. When people use leverage to chase gains, a correction doesn't just erase profits—it can wipe out their entire stake. And the circuit breakers in South Korea suggest the market itself is becoming unstable.

Mark

Do these young investors understand the risks?

Mimi

Some do. Ayush Deb is thoughtful about it. But many are caught between FOMO and genuine financial pressure. They're not gambling for fun. They're gambling because they feel they have to.

Mark

What happens if the AI bubble bursts?

Mimi

Then a lot of young people will learn a very expensive lesson about the difference between a boom and a sustainable business. And some may lose money they can't afford to lose.

  • Young investors worldwide are pouring savings — sometimes borrowed, sometimes their entire nest egg — into tech stocks, betting that the AI revolution will make them wealthy before the window closes.
  • South Korea's Kospi has swung more than 2,500 points since its June peak, triggering circuit breakers seven times, while SpaceX shares collapsed back below their IPO price within weeks of a dizzying surge.
  • Analysts warn that hundreds of billions in AI investment may never produce profits sufficient to justify current valuations, and that retail investors chasing dips may not be prepared for the severity of a true correction.
  • Authorities in South Korea have begun restricting margin lending, signaling that regulators see the speculative fervor as a systemic risk, not merely individual recklessness.
  • Some young investors are quietly diversifying — shifting into energy and metals, studying companies before buying, capping tech exposure — suggesting that hard-won experience is beginning to temper the FOMO.
  • The defining tension remains unresolved: whether the market's faith in artificial intelligence will be vindicated by profits, or whether a generation's savings will become the collateral damage of a valuation reset.

Across Australia, South Korea, Singapore, and beyond, a generation of young investors is staking its financial future on the artificial intelligence boom, driven not merely by greed but by a quiet desperation to outpace shrinking purchasing power and honor the sacrifices of those who came before. Technology stocks have delivered extraordinary gains in 2026, yet the same markets have swung with alarming violence — Seoul's Kospi triggering circuit breakers seven times in a single year — raising the ancient question of whether conviction and courage are enough when the underlying valuations may not yet be tethered to reality. What unfolds here is not simply a story of risk and reward, but of a generation navigating an economy that seems to offer no safe harbor, only the choice between the volatility of action and the slow erosion of inaction.

Michelle Huynh made a promise as a teenager to become a millionaire by 30 — a vow born from watching her migrant parents sacrifice everything in Australia. Now 26, she is trying to keep it through technology stocks. More than a third of her portfolio sits in tech, and by mid-July those holdings had surged 50 percent before a sudden reversal compressed her gains. She says she is prepared for the swings and treats her positions as long-term bets.

Huynh is part of a global wave. Young investors across the United States, Asia, and beyond have rushed into tech stocks, drawn by the AI boom and amplified by social media and the visible success of peers. The Nasdaq has climbed roughly 10 percent this year; Japan's Nikkei more than 20 percent. But the fever burns hottest in South Korea, where the Kospi has surged more than 50 percent since January. Retail investors known as "ants" have flooded the market — even, as one 30-year-old investor notes, stay-at-home mothers who never previously showed interest. The index has also suffered violent reversals, plunging roughly 2,500 points from its June peak and triggering circuit breakers seven times. Authorities have begun restricting margin lending in response.

The volatility points to a deeper anxiety: whether the enormous capital being poured into artificial intelligence will ever generate profits sufficient to justify such valuations. Analyst Lale Akoner warns that retail investors tend to chase visible winners without scrutinizing profitability, and may not grasp how painful a valuation reset can be. SpaceX offers a cautionary illustration — shares surged from $135 to $225 after its June listing, then fell back below the offering price as profitability questions mounted.

Yet the allure holds. A 24-year-old business student in Singapore committed three-quarters of his savings to tech stocks last October; those positions have since more than quadrupled. Others regret not going further, watching friends who concentrated their savings in SK Hynix or Samsung reap outsized rewards. Still, more cautious voices are emerging. A 23-year-old Singapore investor keeps only a third of his portfolio in tech after watching his chip holdings drop more than 10 percent in a single day. Huynh herself has begun shifting money into energy and metals, and warns her social media followers that investing without knowledge can feel indistinguishable from gambling. The question shadowing all of them is whether the market's conviction in AI will ultimately be rewarded — or whether the reckoning is simply deferred.

Michelle Huynh made a promise to her parents when she was a teenager: she would become a millionaire by 30. It was, she admits now at 26, somewhat silly. But her parents had sacrificed everything as migrants to Australia, speaking little English, and the promise felt like a way to honor that. She is trying to make it real by betting her savings on technology stocks.

Huynh works in sales for a tech company and has come to see investing not as optional but as necessary. "Times are so different and investing has become a necessity," she says. "It feels like our purchasing power is shrinking. This is the only way to combat that." More than a third of her portfolio sits in tech stocks. By mid-July this year, that portion had surged 50 percent—a gain of about 16,100 pounds. Then the sector entered what she calls a "wild moment," and those gains compressed to around 22,000 Australian dollars. She says she is prepared for the swings, treating her bets as long-term.

Huynh is not alone. Across the United States, Asia, and beyond, young investors in their 20s and early 30s have rushed into technology stocks, drawn by the artificial intelligence boom and encouraged by social media, marketing, and the visible success of peers. The Nasdaq in the US has climbed roughly 10 percent this year. Japan's Nikkei 225 has risen more than 20 percent. But nowhere is the fervor—and the danger—more visible than in South Korea.

Seoul's Kospi index, heavy with tech giants like SK Hynix and Samsung Electronics, has jumped more than 50 percent since January. Local retail investors, known as "ants," have flooded into the market. U Chan Lee, a 30-year-old investor, observes that the appetite for stocks has become almost universal. "I could maybe count with my hands the number of people who aren't investing today," he says. "Even stay-at-home mothers, like my mum, who has never been interested in the stock market, are now interested." But the Kospi has experienced violent reversals. After hitting a record above 9,000 points in June, it plunged to around 6,500. Trading has been halted seven times this year under circuit-breaker rules designed to stop panic selling when the index drops 8 percent in a single session. The swings have alarmed authorities, who have begun restricting the use of borrowed money to buy stocks.

The volatility reflects a deeper anxiety among analysts: whether the enormous sums being poured into artificial intelligence—hundreds of billions by governments and corporations—will ever generate the profits needed to justify such valuations. Lale Akoner, an analyst at investment firm eToro, warns that retail investors often chase "optimistic outcomes" or "the most visible winners" without regard to actual profitability. They treat sharp declines as buying opportunities, testing their conviction with each dip, but they may not fully grasp "how painful valuation resets can be." The case of SpaceX illustrates the risk. Elon Musk's space and AI company listed in June at $135 per share, surged to $225, then fell back below its offering price as questions about profitability mounted.

Yet the allure persists. Jacqueline Choi, 28, from South Korea, regrets not investing more aggressively before the Kospi's rally. She was forced to sell Samsung and Hyundai shares when she needed cash and now wonders why she did not pour her entire savings into SK Hynix or additional Samsung stock. Some of her friends have done exactly that, investing thousands of dollars in hopes of outpacing their salaries. Shyan Lim, a 24-year-old business student in Singapore, has committed roughly three-quarters of his savings to tech stocks. In October, he invested about 13,185 pounds in Intel and Micron. Those positions are now worth roughly 57,000 pounds. "It feels like I'm one step closer to retirement," he says. "While I'm still young I think I can take the risk."

Not all young investors are equally exposed. Ayush Deb, 23, also from Singapore, keeps only about a third of his portfolio in technology. In June, his memory chip holdings fell more than 10 percent in a single day, and he watched investment forums fill with people discussing who had been burned. "I've ridden the highs and lows of tech stocks but the sector is quite hard to read," he says. He felt the pull of FOMO—fear of missing out—when SpaceX listed, but he has learned to avoid newly public companies until he has time to study them. Michelle Huynh, who creates finance content on social media, echoes the warning. "I think many young people are afraid of investing—and validly so. It can feel like gambling if you're not aware of what's going on." She has recently shifted some money into energy and metal stocks, betting they will benefit from the chip-manufacturing boom. The question hanging over all of them is whether the gains will hold or whether the market's conviction in artificial intelligence will eventually crack.

Times are so different and investing has become a necessity. It feels like our purchasing power is shrinking. This is the only way to combat that.
— Michelle Huynh, 26-year-old tech sales worker in Australia
I could maybe count with my hands the number of people who aren't investing today. Even stay-at-home mothers, like my mum, who has never been interested in the stock market, are now interested.
— U Chan Lee, 30-year-old South Korean investor
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