In recent days, it has become clear in Armenia that if you want the whole country to talk about your project, you need to name it the 'AI factory.' The noise around Firebird is so loud that for a moment you think either a historic event has occurred or we have simply found another great headline and forgotten to look at what is beneath it.
On one side is the praise from the authorities, and on the other, the criticism from the opposition. One says this is Armenia's technological future, while another calls it an environmental disaster, and yet another simply adds, 'Well, yes, Nikol did it.'
In this noise, the most interesting thing is that very few people are talking about what we should actually be discussing: what is Firebird in economic terms. Not political, not PR, nor at the level of 'our country has become a leading technological state,' but purely economic.
Firebird is primarily a data center with large computational capabilities, numerous GPUs, massive electricity consumption, and expensive equipment. Here, computational power is sold.
The most important part is the money. We hear the phrase 'hundreds of millions of dollars in investment' and think, 'Great, half a billion dollars came to Armenia.' But in the economy, the first question should not be 'how much,' but 'whose money is it and where is it going.'
Regarding jobs, there is one figure that needs to be highlighted: by 2030, only 40 new jobs with an average salary of 400,000 drams.
The potential of Firebird remains just that—potential, not reality. If the computational power becomes available to Armenian universities, scientists, and startups, and it contributes to the formation of an AI ecosystem, then it will be a very serious economic project.
I am not against Firebird; I even believe that having such infrastructure can be important for Armenia. But I am against when a business project is sold as a national salvation program, and those who ask questions are labeled as enemies of technology or investment.
