Farewell to
Companies?

I saw a recommended video thumbnail with a very confident promise: “Your money could 15x in five years.” It showed a curve climbing towards 2030, and it brought SpaceX and Tesla to mind because I know the woman speaking about those companies.

I am not making an investment recommendation, and I have not checked the claim behind that thumbnail. What caught me was the picture: the curve rises, gets near 2030, then seems to dip. The graphic itself does not carry us to 2036. That’s where my mind went.

I have been thinking about 2036 as a point when the corporate world we recognise may be changing more deeply. So I found myself asking a different question: what if the value of some shares falls because people begin to understand that companies will no longer be the main way we organise useful things?

That is a thought experiment. It is not a prediction about the stock market, Tesla, SpaceX, or any named company. But it made me think of a title: Farewell to Companies. A small echo of Farewell to Arms, perhaps. A farewell to the corporate form as the centre of everything.

A graph can turn the future into one bright line: up, up, up. But the price of a company’s shares and the usefulness of its work are not the same question.

In Australia, ASIC describes a company as a separate legal entity, with its own property, rights and obligations. It can own assets, sign contracts and take on debts. People also have legal responsibilities in running it. That means a company is not just a name over a shop door. It is a container for assets, decisions, contracts, jobs and responsibilities.

If that container changes or disappears, we still have to ask where each part goes. A warehouse does not evaporate. The people who know how to maintain a network do not stop knowing. Customers still need food, communication, transport, power, and someone to answer when something breaks.

The question is not simply, “Will the brand survive?” It is: who takes over the work the brand once organised?

Imagine the name on a grocery shop fading away. The shelves, delivery routes, food suppliers, cold storage, forecasting, payment systems and people who notice when something is missing are still there. They might be coordinated by another company, a public service, a cooperative, a shared network, or some mixture of those.

Each choice distributes control differently. Who decides what gets stocked? Who repairs the trucks? Who covers a remote town when there is no profitable route? What happens to the workers, the franchisees, the suppliers and the building? Changing the logo does not answer those questions.

The same is true for a large technology company or an energy provider. The legal company, the consumer brand, the physical assets, the operating work and the public service are related, but they are not identical. One might disappear while others continue under new ownership or new rules.

That is the idea behind this series: take a familiar company, look below the logo, then follow each useful function into a possible successor.

Electricity makes the distinction especially clear. In South Australia, SA Power Networks operates the electricity distribution network. Across the National Electricity Market, AEMO is responsible for system operations and security, including continuously balancing supply and demand so power stays within the grid’s technical limits.

That is already more than one role. A retailer might sell a plan and send a bill. The distribution network carries power along local wires. System operators coordinate the larger grid. Generators produce electricity. People and organisations maintain equipment and respond when faults happen.

So if we imagine a 2036 where an energy brand has changed or vanished, “the power company ended” is not enough of a story. Which part ended? Who owns the poles and wires? Who maintains them? Who manages the balance of the grid? Who is responsible during an outage? Who makes sure everyone still has access?

The lights do not come on because a brand exists. They come on because a complicated system is being operated, maintained and held accountable.

There are many possible futures. Some companies may adapt. Some might become smaller. Some functions may move into public or cooperative ownership. Others may still need large organisations, capital, specialist knowledge and clear lines of responsibility. A new platform could even become the next powerful corporation. None of this is settled by cheap automation or by a falling profit margin.

That is the serious complication: companies do not only capture value. They can also carry liability, organise expertise and make someone answerable when things fail. If we want a different structure, we have to design those duties into it. “AI will do it” is not an answer to who owns the equipment, pays for maintenance or has the authority to act in an emergency.

So perhaps “Farewell to Companies” is not an obituary. It is an invitation to look closely. What did this company actually gather together? Which parts are still needed? Who should control them next? And how do we make sure the work continues without keeping an old corporate structure just because it is familiar?

By 2036, perhaps the market will be rising. Perhaps some valuations will be falling. I do not know. The more interesting question is whether we can recognise the difference between a company’s share price and the value of what people still need it to do.

If the company ends, who inherits the job?