TOPSHOT - A robot using artificial intelligence is displayed at a stand during the International Telecommunication Union (ITU) AI for Good Global Summit in Geneva, on May 30, 2024. Humanity is in a race against time to harness the colossal emerging power of artificial intelligence for the good of all, while averting dire risks, a top UN official said. (Photo by Fabrice COFFRINI / AFP) (Photo by FABRICE COFFRINI/AFP via Getty Images)

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Venture capital has narrowed to a single trade. AI companies took $242 billion in the first quarter of 2026, 80% of all global venture funding, according to Crunchbase. At the same time, the software those checks used to underwrite has become cheap enough to copy in an afternoon.

Rime Salmi watches the consequences from the door. She is the founder and chief executive of Fractl, a Toronto-registered network that runs invite-only founder-and-investor events, brunches and cocktail hours timed to conference weeks like Token2049 in Singapore, Korea Blockchain Week and Consensus in Miami. Her job is deciding who gets in. "There are a lot of people who are posing as investors and they’re absolutely not. They're looking for investments or grifting actually," she said in an interview.

Two Moats Left

"Investors are not sure where the world is going. So it's hard for them to have a very strong thesis that they can sustain," Salmi said. "AI is a big buzzword, but we don't know where the human fits in that anymore. Are we okay with one person company or are we still funding solid big teams?"

The money says investors have mostly answered by piling into one trade. Global venture investment hit $510 billion in the first half of the year, more than all of 2025, with OpenAI and Anthropic alone capturing 43% of it. Everything outside that trade has to explain why it cannot be copied.

Salmi's answer is that most of it can be. Asked whether an app someone assembled with AI in ten seconds can be taken seriously, she pushed back before the question was finished. "It doesn't mean it's not going to be super successful," she said. Speed of construction, in her words, is "not a measure of validity anymore." What survives, she says, are two moats: distribution and data. "If a startup has solid proprietary data, that's something that would be very difficult to vibe code them out of because it would just take years to get really high quality in depth data."

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Venture investors have spent 2026 saying versions of the same thing. GTMfund's Paul Irving calls distribution the last sustainable moat, and Balaji Srinivasan argues every startup now needs a founding content creator, as Forbes reported in April. Vibe coding, the collapsed technical moat's proximate cause, has already spread beyond software into trading.

"It's the age of the solo entrepreneur," Nimrod Lehavi, founder of the AI venture studio Inevitable AI Group, said in an interview. His firm builds one-person clones of billion-dollar software companies and raised a $6 million pre-seed led by Aleph on the thesis.

The Founder As The Channel

"Now a founder has the opportunity to be their own distribution channel," Salmi said. A founder who builds a following directly, rather than renting reach, ends up with "an audience that is captive and owned," she said, and that audience is hard for a competitor to take because it is personal.

"Every company needs to turn into a media company. You need to hit the culture. You need to be relevant at all times," Daniel Bitton, founder of a clipping marketplace, said on the On The Margin podcast. Renting that relevance is an industry of its own. His platform pays armies of short-form video clippers to flood feeds for brands, the model behind the clipping farms driving fintech marketing and crypto gambling's viral machine. Salmi's point is that bought reach stops when the budget stops. The owned audience keeps compounding, which is why she runs storytelling workshops for founders on the side. The skill she teaches is "the art of telling a good story every time you meet someone," she said. "I think there's a lot more human being injected in selling tech. And I think that's a great thing."

Who Gets In The Room

"We don't want this to become just another pay to play room," Salmi said of her refusal to sell tickets. "The reason the quality diminishes in other investor focused events is because you can pay to be in the room." Founders mid-raise are the last people who should be charged, she said: "It just didn't feel right to take money from the people who don't have it."

So Fractl vets instead. Every applicant is reviewed, she said, to filter out the people posing as investors. The screening is the pitch. "When you get in the room, you're like, okay, you made it. So you must be somebody worth talking to."

Venture capital has always had a velvet rope; it just used to hang somewhere less transparent. "The market was looking for male early twenties from top ten schools," Howard Marks, co-founder of StartEngine, said on the On The Margin podcast, recalling the funding market he set out to disrupt with equity crowdfunding. The top universities, he said, "represented about 80% of where the venture capital money came in, and angel money." Marks spent a decade betting that opening the gates to everyone was the fix. Salmi is betting the opposite: that in a noisier market, a better-guarded gate is worth more. The casualties of picking wrong fill the YC fintech graveyard.

Running The Room Is A Business Too

"I used to run a record label," Salmi said of how she fell into events, after a friend who she says had worked at the London web3 fund Fabric Ventures handed over a founder-investor brunch series. "I can probably manage a brunch." The first one drew more than 200 people, over 100 of them investors by her count. Fractl grew out of a fractional-CMO marketing agency she wound down after the events outsold it. "After event five, I was like, I think we're shutting down the agency." Clients kept asking for her personally. "People were like, no, we want to work with you."

She is unusually plain about what scaling it cost. "I'm not a very efficient operations person. I'm more of a salesperson," she said. "There was a year where I ran like seven events within five weeks in five different cities across six different time zones." She kept staff on monthly salaries when the work was event-based, and says she has tried eight different operators in the operations seat. "I don't even blame the people. I blame myself for letting it leak for so long."

The revenue side carries a crypto-shaped risk she names just as readily. "If bitcoin is doing well, then people are spending on marketing," she said. "The sponsorship fluctuating based on the crypto market is kind of rough to base the business on." She is courting web2 sponsors to smooth it out.

No Fireworks, More Rooms

"We can only hope. I don't know," Salmi said when asked to call the next crypto bull run, an honest answer from someone whose sponsorship revenue depends on one. If it comes, she expects it to be "very, very, very enterprise driven," more of "a smooth line up as institutions adopt and all the red tape falls off" than the vertical runs of past cycles. Crypto, in her view, is becoming infrastructure: "It's part of everything. So it's not a thing on its own anymore."

The in-person layer, she thinks, moves the other way. "I see actually a movement back to IRL experiences," she said. The infrastructure underneath keeps churning: Collision, the Toronto tech conference that drew more than 40,000 attendees in 2023, held its last Toronto edition in 2024 and re-emerged as Web Summit Vancouver. The networks that persist are the ones somebody owns.

What she looks for in the founders who make it through her door sounds a lot like her own pitch. "They can zoom out of a situation a little bit more than someone who stays in their business," she said. "And they act fast."