Obermatt ranks every public company from 0 to 100 against its real sector peers, on value, growth, and safety. We do it for 6,500 stocks. We cannot do it for SpaceX — not yet, on our terms. The share being sold this week is not a share of a rocket company. It is a share of something with no peer set, assembled by its own founder, priced at a number no outsider can verify.
The size
Start with the size. At $135 a share, SpaceX is raising $75 billion. That is the largest IPO in history, about 2.5 times Saudi Aramco’s old record, and nearly twice what every company that listed across all seven G7 countries raised, combined, in an average year.
Total IPO proceeds raised on each G7 country's exchanges, annual average 2023–2025, against SpaceX's single 2026 raise. USD billions.
And that is the average year. Widen the lens to the five quarters from the start of 2025 through the first quarter of 2026 — a stretch that includes 2025, the G7’s strongest year for IPOs in recent memory — and every IPO across all seven G7 countries still adds up to only about $80 billion. This single offering nearly matches all of them.
Nor was retail money rushing toward stocks to begin with. In 2025, US equity funds saw net outflows of more than $32 billion, and UK investors pulled roughly £17 billion out of equity funds — net redemptions on both sides of the Atlantic, in the very year one company set out to raise $75 billion.
What you’re actually buying
Now read the financial statements. They do not describe a rocket company. In February 2026 SpaceX absorbed xAI, the artificial-intelligence firm, which had itself absorbed X, formerly Twitter, a year earlier. The prospectus restates all of history as if the three had always been one company. No line shows SpaceX on its own. There is one combined entity carrying one combined loss: an accumulated deficit of $41 billion.
A rank is a comparison. There is no peer set for a launch monopoly bolted to a satellite internet provider bolted to an AI lab bolted to a social network, valued by the person who built all four. That is not a gap in our data. It is the structure of the thing being sold.
None of this makes SpaceX a bad company. The launch business is a real monopoly, and the $74.4 billion raised here is primary capital: it funds the company, it does not cash out an insider. Look at what earns, in the recast company’s own 2025 segment report. The Connectivity segment, Starlink, brought in $11.4 billion and was the only part that made money. The Space segment, the actual rockets, earned $4 billion and lost money. The AI segment earned $3 billion and lost $6.4 billion. The rocket company you think you are buying is the small, unprofitable part. A satellite internet service carries the whole thing — and the loss-making AI lab is where your money goes first: the prospectus names AI compute infrastructure as the first use of the $74.4 billion, ahead of rockets and satellites.
Priced without a market
One detail should stop you. Elon Musk controlled all three companies, and the terms on which they merged were set under common control, not by arm’s-length negotiation. The filing discloses no fairness opinion on the merger, no special committee approving it, and no vote of independent shareholders. Because one owner stood on both sides, the accountants booked the merger at historical book value, with no goodwill and no outside valuation. No public market and no independent valuation has priced xAI and X as they sit inside SpaceX. You are being asked to be the first.
The valuation got here mostly without a market at all. SpaceX rose to roughly $800 billion through insider tender offers — existing shares changing hands — that set no public price. The IPO asks you to ratify $1.77 trillion.
The lock-up is a schedule
Here is the one thing you can compute. A lock-up is a promise by insiders not to sell their shares for a set period. When it ends, the shares can reach the market. More sellers against the same buyers, and the price comes under pressure.
SpaceX’s lock-up is a schedule, and the prospectus prints it. After the first quarterly earnings report, expected around August 2026, the first tranche unlocks: about 911 million shares. At the offer price, that is roughly $123 billion of stock becoming sellable — one window, larger than the whole IPO. More unlocks early if the stock trades at least 30% above the offer price, which is the prospectus’s own condition, not our forecast. After the third-quarter report, another 1.3 billion shares. A slower schedule releases insider stock into 2027, and registration rights cover about 12 billion shares beyond that. Musk’s own block, roughly 6.4 billion shares, stays locked for 366 days with no early release.
Stock becoming sellable as each lock-up tranche expires, by date. Bar height is the value of those shares in USD billions, at the $135 IPO price.
Index mechanics
One part of the supply picture is already settled. SpaceX cannot join the S&P 500 soon: its index managers confirmed on June 4 that the rules will not bend for size, and a loss-making company does not qualify. But it could enter the Nasdaq-100 within weeks of listing, which forces every fund tracking that index to buy. Supply on one side, forced demand on the other, on a calendar you can read today.
What you’d have to believe
Justifying $1.77 trillion takes heroic math. To earn an ordinary market return from there, SpaceX would need to be worth roughly $2.5 to $2.9 trillion in five years, and $3.5 to $4.6 trillion in ten. That is bigger than almost any company on earth today, resting on a business whose only profitable part sells satellite internet.
Keep one distinction straight: that $1.77 trillion is a price on every share, not money the company receives — the cash raised is $74.4 billion. The gap between the roughly $9 to 12 billion ever invested in the standalone rocket-and-Starlink business and this $1.77 trillion ask is value created, not a transfer from anyone. The question is only whether the price is right. The base rates run against you. Across more than 9,000 IPOs since 1980, the buyer who got in at the offer price roughly matched the market over three years. The buyer who bought at the first day’s closing price — the only price most of us can get — lagged it by about 20%. The most expensive IPOs did worst of all.
What we’d check
We are not telling you to buy or to sell, and most readers cannot buy the offering anyway. We are telling you what we would check before the lock-ups clear: the final prospectus, for any change in terms; the first earnings report, and whether it breaks out the rocket business honestly; and how the August unlock is absorbed. When SpaceX’s filings let us set it beside real peers, we will rank it like the other 6,500 we cover. Until then, the only numbers you can verify are the price and the calendar. We price the ask. We do not predict failure. SpaceX can succeed, and the buyer at this price can still lose.
Methodology and sources
Every number above traces to SpaceX’s S-1/A registration statement (filed June 3, 2026) and the third-party datasets behind it. Three labels carry throughout: financial figures are recast-combined (SpaceX + xAI + X) unless noted standalone; unlock dollar values are illustrative at the $135.00 IPO price; and the pre-IPO valuation jumps were insider tenders, not capital raised. As of June 7, 2026 no final pricing prospectus (424B) is filed, so terms could still change at pricing.