So Michael Burry just liquidated almost his entire portfolio, and suddenly everyone and their cousin knows about it. The financial press is buzzing, retail investors are buzzing, and Twitter (sorry, "X") is absolutely alight with hot takes. Which raises an obvious question: isn't this supposed to be private information? Aren't our investment decisions our own business?
Well, yes and no—mostly no if you're managing serious money. And therein lies an interesting tension in our markets that's worth exploring.
The fact is, large investors operate in a strange twilight zone between privacy and public disclosure. It's a world where their moves eventually become as public as a Broadway show, just on a convenient delay. Let me explain how this works.
The 13F: Finance's Reluctant Show-and-Tell
The primary mechanism here is something called Form 13F, which the SEC requires from institutional investment managers with at least $100 million in qualifying assets. Every quarter, these investors must disclose their holdings within 45 days of the quarter's end.
This is why we know Burry dumped almost everything. His Scion Asset Management filed its 13F, showing he'd eliminated 17 of 19 positions, keeping only small stakes in Alibaba and a private prison operator. (Make of that what you will.)
Warren Buffett, likewise, can't hide his Occidental Petroleum obsession or his Apple love affair. The 13F requirement means everyone from Renaissance Technologies to your neighbor's oddly successful hedge fund manager cousin must periodically open their books.
The interesting thing about 13Fs is that they represent a very deliberate policy choice about market transparency. Congress added this requirement in 1975, essentially deciding that the public's right to know outweighed the portfolio manager's right to secrecy. The theory was that transparency would improve market efficiency and reduce information asymmetry.
The Strategic Game of Disclosure
But here's where it gets fascinating. Because these disclosures come with a 45-day lag, they've become part of a strange meta-game that sophisticated investors play.
Some managers, like Buffett, have occasionally requested confidential treatment for certain positions they're still building. The SEC sometimes grants these requests when immediate disclosure might cause market movements that harm the manager's shareholders.
Others use the disclosure strategically. Take Bill Ackman's famous Herbalife short. He didn't just take the position—he announced it with a 300-slide presentation. That wasn't regulatory requirement; that was theater.
I've also seen managers deliberately hold off on building their full position until just after a filing deadline, giving themselves nearly four months before the world knows what they're up to. Others might accelerate purchases right before the end of a quarter if they want the world to see their conviction.
The most sophisticated players have learned to send signals through these disclosures. A new position might signal confidence in a sector. A completely liquidated portfolio, as in Burry's case, sends a fairly apocalyptic message about market conditions.
The Buffett Effect
Warren Buffett deserves special mention here because he's elevated disclosure to an art form. Yes, he files his 13Fs like everyone else, but he's also transformed Berkshire Hathaway's annual letter into financial literature. He discloses far more than required about his thinking, his mistakes, and his outlook.
Why? Because Buffett long ago realized that transparency builds trust, and trust is an asset that compounds. When he makes a move now, the "Buffett effect" often drives the stock higher simply because of who he is and the credibility he's built through decades of radical transparency.
Private... Until You're Not
For the rest of us non-billionaires, our portfolios remain genuinely private. Unless you're managing nine figures, the SEC doesn't much care what stocks you're buying or selling.
But the moment you cross that threshold, you enter a different world—one where your investing moves become a matter of public record and potential market influence. It's the financial equivalent of a celebrity losing their privacy. The price of success is that people suddenly care what you're doing.
So next time you see headlines about Burry's latest bearish bet or Buffett's newest bank stock, remember: this isn't gossip. It's legally mandated disclosure designed to keep markets transparent and somewhat fair. That these disclosures also happen to make for excellent financial entertainment is just a bonus for the rest of us.
I mean, without them, what would financial Twitter argue about?
