Satellites Soar, Cash Tanks

You’d think a corporate report might lead with a joyous declaration of profitability. Instead you get a recitation of tiny victories dressed up in trumped-up superlatives. They crow about prepaid average revenue per user hitting “industry best,” yet fail to mention that every extra $ tacked on to those plans barely nudges the bottom line when underlying network costs still flow straight to their T-Mobile landlord. Then comes the obligatory pat on the back for churn reaching its “lowest level since 2013,” as if delaying phone cancellations by a fraction of a percentage point equals world-beating performance.

Next, pay-TV numbers surface as though the real drama lies in keeping a few cable customers from defecting. You learn that engagement hours are up, but nobody tells you that overall viewership keeps slipping year after year. Reading between the lines you spot an attempt to recast a shrinking franchise as a steady cash cow. All the while executives talk about adding a fee here and a premium channel there so that every unsubscribed user feels the pinch before actually leaving.

Then there’s the broadband and satellite section, where backlog growth is trumpeted like a victory banner. An eight-percent jump might sound impressive until you recall that overall revenues are actually down and rivals like Starlink are staging a full frontal assault on the market. EchoStar wants you to believe that a fresh deal with Airbus signals a grand pivot to in-flight Wi-Fi. Reality check: airlines have begrudgingly paid to keep passengers scrolling on their phones. That business remains a sliver of total sales, yet here it is framed as a cornerstone of future growth.

The financial summary buries a $306 million loss deep in the fine print. Cash flow from operations crashed from nearly $900 million to about $200 million. They gloss over that fact with talk of “targeted reinvestment” as if debtholders won’t notice when interest payments eat up any remaining profit margin. Regulators get a shout out too, with spectrum licenses valued on the balance sheet at eye-popping sums. Nobody stops to ask whether those assets will ever turn real cash or simply remain accounting curiosities.

In the end you have an earnings tale that reads like marketing copy.

Glittering OpenSignal badges stand in for real network ownership.
Aviation connectivity is hyped as a golden goose despite installation delays measured in quarters.
Pay-TV churn is dressed as triumph in a business everyone else is abandoning.
Everything that matters about declining revenue, sagging cash flow, and mounting interest expense sits buried under a pile of cheerleading.

Investors are left to sift through footnotes and hope that reality doesn’t arrive too quickly.