I've always had a soft spot for underdogs. There's something deliciously satisfying about championing what others have written off—maybe it's just the contrarian in me.
When I mention Snapchat at investment gatherings these days, I get the same looks reserved for people who still believe in flip phones or MySpace's comeback. Yet here I am, making the case anyway.
Look, the bear case for Snap ($SNAP) practically writes itself. We've got a CEO who seems more interested in playing with flying cameras than shareholder returns. A company that once spent $140,000 on a vending machine to sell sunglasses, for crying out loud. And let's not forget that dancing hotdog—their mascot choice that left most investors scratching their heads while teenagers inexplicably loved it.
The stock's hovering near all-time lows. Not great.
But here's where it gets interesting.
Snapchat has displayed a cockroach-like resilience that deserves more attention than it gets. Remember when Facebook (sorry, "Meta" now) launched Instagram Stories and everyone—myself included, I'll admit—wrote Snap's obituary? That was 2016. Seven years later, the platform's still kicking with 932 million monthly active users, up 7% year-over-year in Q2 2025.
That's not just survival. That's growth.
Having tracked social media trends since the early Twitter days (back when we called it "microblogging" with straight faces), I've developed what I call the "teenage bedroom thesis." Once an app becomes the default private space where a generation conducts its most intimate conversations, it develops an emotional moat nearly impossible to cross.
For millions of users, Snapchat isn't just another icon on their phone—it's where their relationships live.
This stickiness creates optionality. And Wall Street, my friends, is terrible at pricing optionality.
So what futures might we be looking at?
The platform could simply continue its current trajectory—slowly improving monetization while maintaining its user base. Not sexy, but potentially profitable if you've bought in at these prices.
Or perhaps we're looking at an acquisition target. At current valuations, wouldn't Google or even Meta consider a premium worth paying for immediate access to those coveted Gen Z eyeballs? The privacy-focused messaging infrastructure alone might justify the price tag.
And then there's the management overhaul scenario. (Never count out activist investors when a stock has been this beaten down.)
The thing about Wall Street? We pretend we're all spreadsheet-obsessed quants, but we're actually just narrative junkies in expensive suits. Right now, Snap's narrative stinks. But narratives change—sometimes overnight. Just ask Meta, which transformed from "dying boomer platform burning cash on metaverse fantasies" to "AI efficiency machine" faster than you can say "pivot to video."
Should Snap be a major portion of your portfolio? God, no. Not unless you enjoy cardiac episodes with your morning coffee.
But as a small position with significant upside potential trading near historic lows? I see the appeal.
Sometimes the most interesting investments live in that uncomfortable space where everyone else seems convinced—and you can't help wondering if they're all wrong. As Buffett put it (and I'm paraphrasing here), be greedy when others are fearful.
And with Snap? There's plenty of fear to go around.
Which is exactly where opportunity sometimes hides.
