Rafe Fletcher: Does the UK need a CEO-in-chief? | Conservative Home

Rafe Fletcher is the founder of CWG.

Should the government be run more like a business? Curtis Yarvin thinks so. The American software developer and blogger believes appointing a CEO-in-chief would transform the government into a “heavily-armed, ultra-profitable corporation.” Liberal media paints Yarvin as a malign interloper (Vice President JD Vance cites him as an influence), calling for the overthrow of democracy.

But one doesn’t have to fully embrace his corporate re-working of Plato’s philosopher kings – the benevolent dictators ruling in the common interest – to recognise modern democracy’s shortcomings. It creates perverse incentives where leaders are rewarded for appealing to popular opinion rather than running things well.

It’s why Yarvin prefers a national CEO like the late Steve Jobs. The Apple co-founder’s signal-to-noise principle stated work should be 80 percent signal (proactive strategy) and 20 percent noise (reactivity). Leaders must ruthlessly prioritise things that really move the dial, rather than let polling dictate policy.

In other words, more competence and less scrutiny. No surprise then that those in Yarvin’s orbit admire Singapore’s founding prime minister, Lee Kuan Yew. Republican candidate and Peter Thiel protege Blake Masters named Lee as his second favourite historical figure. Lee ran things more like a business, saying Singapore’s system “deliberately exposes civil servants to decision making based on corporate rewards and profitability.” He focused on what works and getting things done.

That meant surrounding himself with capable, well-paid individuals. Today, cabinet ministers are remunerated like executives with annual salaries of S$1.1m (c.£640,000). It doesn’t make public service just another career path for the financially ambitious. But it lessens the opportunity cost for the country’s most capable who could command millions more in the private sector. With affluence assured, they can focus on the job at hand.

Paying politicians more doesn’t elicit great enthusiasm in the UK. Polls suggest the public think current rates of £94,000 for MPs and £164,000 for cabinet ministers are already overly generous. But you get what you pay for – and those salaries offer the worst of both worlds: too much for crap MPs, and too little for the genuinely talented.

Boris Johnson and Liz Truss finger the sinister deep state as the culprit for their demise. But they were ultimately undone by their own MPs. The 2019 group proved an underwhelming bunch. They wavered at the first sign of public distress, terrified of losing their seats and salaries they wouldn’t otherwise earn. They believed only in self-preservation. Meanwhile, capable cabinet ministers flee the stress of politics for better pay elsewhere.

Campaigning for better MP pay is unlikely to reignite Badenoch’s opposition. But the Conservatives must think about how to find better talent. Perhaps that means ignoring media criticism of MPs extracurricular earnings, and being more relaxed about appointing cabinet ministers from outside the legislature. Lord Cameron’s stint as Foreign Secretary was one of the few successes of Rishi Sunak’s short tenure.

We readily recognise incompetent MPs as an obstruction to effective governance. But Yarvin’s other proposition is more awkward: that the electorate is a problem.

Conservative instincts rightly shy away from the idea that the public don’t know what’s good for them. We want to believe in the wisdom of the crowds and the silent majority. But Matthew Syed is right to attribute the UK’s malaise to the public’s lack of realism. Politicians can only achieve office by “flattering mass sensibility”. That sensibility demands “lower taxes and higher spending, more homes but not in my backyard.”

Politicians are punished for mentioning trade-offs. Steve Baker bemoans cross-party inertia in making even the most basic cuts. No one will touch the Winter Fuel Allowance even as age-related spending threatens bankruptcy.

Populist rhetoric, which argues solutions lie in simply listening to the public, ignores the fleeting nature of that mood. Dominic Lawson argues that the immigration backlash is recent. Just ten years ago, the Sun ran a “For Alan” campaign in response to the drowning of four-year-old refugee Alan Kurdi. David Cameron, then prime minister, bowed to public pressure in agreeing to take in thousands more refugees.

In the face of this, we take comfort in the Churchillian adage that democracy is the least worst form of government. Of course, it has its problems, but absolute power corrupts. And by and large, that’s true. I recently met an academic leading a pan-African delegation to learn from Singapore’s governing class. The group’s main takeaways were reassuring. High salaries for officials, tick; long-term stability, tick. Singapore’s template is not easily replicated. It’s an anomaly, a rare case of 60 years of one-party rule without sliding into kleptocracy.

Singapore is a parliamentary democracy in the Westminster mould. Elections were held in May, but the ruling People’s Action Party (PAP) was never in danger. Reduced majorities are the only noise it must contend with, occasionally making small concessions to ease public dissatisfaction. The late Charlie Munger says it keeps getting elected because it’s doing such a great job. Others ascribe more autocratic practices. The Economist labels it a “flawed democracy”; Lee himself argued that democracy’s “exuberance” breeds disorder.

Singapore’s model only works if the country is Singapore. And even then, it has its shortcomings. The government’s rigid control stifles dynamism. It struggles to nurture entrepreneurs or a vibrant cultural life. Its political arrangement looks like a secure social contract: “We’ll keep the share price rising, you keep quiet at the AGMs.” But it’s precarious. What happens if the music stops?

Similarly, Yarvin’s model only works if the company is Apple, itself an anomaly. Rather than trying to ape a utopian ideal, the UK should ask what kind of business it resembles now. WeWork comes to mind, as successive governments seek only popularity, without any strategy for long-term profitability. Unfortunately, the public, rather than Masayoshi Son, eventually picks up the bill.

But we can learn. First, compete for talent. Second, focus on the product. Five years is already a short horizon. It shouldn’t be shortened by chasing every poll. Of course, some noise is necessary. Even Jobs conceded that. There’s no point flogging something no one wants. But Lee was right when he said whoever governs “must have that iron in him.” Without obstinacy, democracy is little more than power for power’s sake – and that’s hardly a moral rebuttal to Yarvin’s CEO-in-chief.